Loëndë (Midyear), T.A. 1640

Alraun sat chewing a bit of grass, absently watching the spectacle of mankind passing in their hurried way about the joyous cares that this day of festival brought. It was Loëndë, the festival of the Midyear. Elves called it Loëndë. Somewhat prettier, if less descriptive for a commoner, Alraun thought. Midyear seemed too descriptive - with no sense of mystery or wonder.

The farmers were mostly a boring lot - though well dressed and well fed. Herbal knowledge and folk medicine were strongly entrenched in the Dunedain and Alraun thought that he might not find quite so much need of his skills as he had hoped. Still, the promise of a bruised shin - or a broken bone - something needing more than the bit of dried medicinal leaf and twig, something more than dried parchment and plaster could set right might be the bit of luck to bring a few bits of silver his way - or at least some coppers to end the gnawing hunger inside him.

As if in conscious mockery of the thought, Alraun's stomach churned with a noisome growl that reminded him why he was here. Walking past the stalls manned by farmers and their wives - each calling out to him to view their wares of good meat pies, puddings and breads - little knowing how ill equipped he was to buy them - he rubbed the last worn coins in his pocket (2 c.p.) and wondered which last purchase would best last him until providence - or Mandos - found a way to feed him.

I might be the shortest lived member of this strange Quest yet, Alraun thought, if I don't find some food soon. Bemoaning the unknown thief that had lifted his purse back in Rood, Alraun wondered if the singular experience of starvation would be the thread that Vairë would use of him to weave into her vast tapestry; and that the sum of his life would be one short - and very dull - thread.

Smelling all the fine food - Alraun felt a little faint and decided to leave the area of the stalls, his stomach conversing it's displeasure to him all the while in a series of noisome gurgles accompanied by a mild empty burning. Spying a large apple tree near a fenced paddock, Alraun viewed the white blossoms and nubs of growing fruit, whose promise of future bounty was too far distant to be of any good to him. While he was there though, he was witness to a strange interchange. Several dirty and foul smelling farmers, with a young woman amongst their number were accosting a childlike being who Alraun first took to be a young beardless dwarf. They were not the usual sort one would have expected of an Arthedan faire, but of a rougher sort cruder sort. Alraun then realized that this person they were obviously threatening was a hobbit like those of his homeland near Bree. He hadn't seen a hobbit for years; and to see one of the good folk so badly used was a sad sight.

The giant farmers, led by an old man Alraun took to be their farmer, plucked up the hobbit and had some sharp snarling words with him that Alraun couldn't make out. Then, putting him down, one of them pulled what might have been a delicious egg, cracking it into the hobbit's face, and rubbing it and his dirty hands into the poor fellow's eyes and mouth. Leaving the hobbit gagging and gasping, the farmer moved off in a group.

Before Alraun could say or do anything, the hobbit had run off and was talking to a beautiful blond woman in a dress, viewing a horse on display in the paddock. She was accompanied by a blond man of equal beauty and the hobbit seemed to be complaining about his treatment to the two of these. In the distance, a bell sounded, calling all comers to the first of the physical contests. Prizes of money and food were announced and Alraun felt a calling in his stomach.

Alraun walked among the crowd at the faire, seeing the sights, smelling the diverse scents of baked pastries, sweet meats and pies, sweat, perfumes; and when the wind shifted, dung and urine from the animal pens. Quickly he tried to shut out the smells, as his growling stomach started to protest, and instead focused more keenly on what he saw and heared.

Laughter and music carried also on the wind and sparkling bright colours, as if of a rainbow's hues caught and trapped in bits of ribbon and fringed skirts, danced past his eye. But wherever he looked his eyes saw glimpses of food offered at the stalls and he heard the farmers and their wives call out to potential customers, praising their pies and cakes. Once more, Alraun checked his meager wealth, consisting of no more than 2 copper pieces.

Sighing, he turned his attention to the entertainment. He saw young men, dancing in short pants and whirling about, banging sticks together. A little to the right an impromptu song fest drew a quick crowd while others, openmouthed, watched the performance of a group of acrobats and jugglers. Suddenly Alraun heard a roar of laughter behind him and quickly turned around to see a crowd gathered around a wooden box, where puppet caricatures beat each other with sticks. Watching the spectacle, he didn't notice the confident approach of a handsome, young man, trailed by a group of admiring young ladies, who didn't notice Alraun as well and consequently bumped into him.

With a sneer the young man said: "Don't stand in my way, fool!", and Alraun was too stunned to mutter anything but "Excuse me...", before he was rudely and wordlessly shoved aside. The girls cheered this display of manly courage and followed the young man, giggling at Alraun's unbelieving expression...

Angrily he turned around and stomped away, earning just more giggles, but trying to ignore it. He saw a Dunnish woman coming out of a tent, eying the crowd. Men and women stepped past her warily, as if in respect or fear, talking in hushed and unapproving whispers; but just as soon, they lined up and took their turns to disappear inside the tent one by one to see what Fortune may have held for them.

"I know my Fortune well," thought Alraun. "I will starve before the day is over if I don't get myself something to eat."

But his eyes were once more distracted by the numerous sights. A tall muscled man westling with a bear in a wooden ring caught his attention. Alraun was impressed at the man's courage, until he noticed that the bear had had his claws and teeth cut! Lacking his natural weapons the bear lost the fight, and as he was led away the man offered to wrestle any comers for a wager of gold. Just when Alraun was close to challenging the man (foolish as it might have seemed. The man surely being twice his girth and more than that in strength), he heard someone call out the four contests that were about to begin: Spoon & Egg, Weight Lifting, Sack Race and Best Sheep.

Alraun considered if he should go and watch one of the contests, but decided against it, intent on the search for food for a reasonable price. He passed a weapon merchant, ringed by plenty of young men, both warriors and those who would one day like to be, examining his wares while old men, some of them scarred or missing limbs, eyed his wares sadly, as if the sight of them brought back sad memories. Next to the merchant a group of dwarves and one swarthy human were selling furs they had brought from Numeriador. They were also offering to buy food goods that travelled well, such as dried meat, grain, honey, preserves, pickles and wild nuts. Several farmers and some wives bartered with the group, and Alraun watched the transfer of food just enviously.

A pretty young mother with her newborn infant was selling cakes and pastries while across from her, an apothecary praised his love potions and elixirs to remove aches of joint and head. Cobblers plied their wears, offering leather and wooden shoes and books, while tanners offered hides nearby and other craftsmen other finished goods, rope, candles, iron works from the smithies, chairs, utensils, and tables from the carpenters. There were horse traders, wood merchants and all the sort of activity one would expect from a market faire.

Suddenly Alraun noticed a fight breaking out over a young woman. At first, everyone laughed, jeering or egging the two men on. But then, a knife appeared and someone screamed. The older of the two men gasped and staggered, blood rushing from his chest. Alraun tried to wrestle through the crowd to see if he could help the man.
But when he approached the scene, someone stood up from the body and said, "It's no use. He is dead."
The young man who had started the fight looked on in disbelief at the man he'd just killed. As he was led away to be bound for judgement, he repeated over and over that he hadn't intended to kill the man - that he had just wanted to teach him a lesson. Alraun could gather from the remarks of the bystanders that the young man was a local youth who was married to the woman with the baby selling cakes. Everyone was shocked and commented on how nice he is and what would now happen to his wife and baby.
No one seemed to know the dead man, though.

A woman made her way through the crowd, oblivious to the tragedy that had occured, asking everyone she saw if they had seen her daughter, Annveth. She was to have gotten ready for the comeliest maiden contest but seemed to have taken off, probably tempted by a "no good shiftless boy". Seeing Alraun, she came up and asked him if he had seen a young girl in a blue dress, with long brown hair in braids.
When Alraun replied that he hadn't seen her, the woman made her way through the crowd, intent on asking everyone, meanwhile calling out at intervals, "Annie! Annie! Where are you?"

A signboard written in both Adunaic and Westron listed the contests (in order) that would occur: spoon & egg contest, weight lifting, sack race, best sheep, pole toss, rope climb, wrestling, best preserves, fencing, best carpentry, best beer, best milk & cream, horseshoe toss, lawn bowling, sheep dog trials, best strawberries, best butter, best ale, bottle knockdown, wood chopping contest, best pickles, cross country run, best horse, quarterstaff contest, horse-shoeing event, best cheese, archery contest, best painting, pie baking contest, best cooked dish, best calligraphy, three-legged race, best bull, prettiest maiden, cross country horse racing, obstacle course, best wine, cap & bull contest, best ham, greased pole climbing, greased pig roundup, best musician, best poem, best dancer, best singer, (evening feast & dancing).

The tragedy of the killed man and the woman looking for her daughter Annveth had momentarily distracted Alraun from his gnawing hunger, but now it brought itself back to his mind with a growling noise from his stomach. So he decided to get himself something to eat. He approached a stand where a farmer's wife sold food. She offered him a Plowman's Lunch consisting of bread, cheese, pickled onions and beer for two copper pieces. Knowing that to be the exact sum of his meager wealth, Alraun decided he would try to find something else.

"Perhaps I should try to win some money in a contest," he thought and mentally ticked of the list of contests he had seen earlier. The only one he felt he had a chance to win was the horseshoe toss, so he went to sign up. The entrance fee for the contest was one copper piece, which Alraun paid reluctantly, hoping it might come back to him twenty-fold; the price for winning the contest was one shilling.

With his last pence Alraun bought a large piece of bread, butter and some milk, and then went to watch the best of the local sheep being paraded past a discerning crowd while he hungrily ate his lunch, trying his best to ignore the attendant smell of the nearby animal pens. While he was watching he overheard two men, a merchant and a gentleman farmer to judge by their clothing, debating the man killed in the knife fight.
The merchant told the farmer that it supposedly had been a drunken brawl and no one knew who the man was, but when he had been examined, a royal seal had been found in his personals, and he had been well dressed, and carrying gold.
The farmer just shook his head in wonder, muttering, "Murder at the Faire. What is the world coming to?"