Activity and conversation raged around the inn, and the maids bustled around taking orders. In fact, some strange thing seemed to be going on, involving a strange man and a girl. However, Ferethor was too deep in his sad thought to take notice.
"Even though the time of Darkness is past, orcs, Wargs and other evil creature prowl around the borders." Ferethor thought. "If soldiers of Gonder, in disguise, does not patrol the gates and defend this simple country, there would be no peace for these holbytlans to remain merry. Whither shall they flee from the oncoming dread if we did not protect them?"
But he was not appeased. He longed for the Gondor, and the majestical city of Minas Tirith where he was born. True - he had nothing there, only broken fragments of memories and the graves of his parents, but it was home.
He was immersed in his thought, keeping silent, that he did not notice that someone was talking to him.
<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:47 AM January 27, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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