[Theoric Windcaller]

Among the brewing conversations and hollars for more ale and the choes of laughter, a small creak sounded. The door opened, inching its way closer and closer towards the wall. It soon stopped.

The inn, busy as always, never ceased to be noisy. The dwarf's memories of a time long since passed came back to him.

As Theoric, the small dwarf entered, he was reminded to take his weapon and lightly lay it down beside the wall at the door. He remembered this rule, and he remembered that he was told never to disobey it.

He leaned his axe against the wall and unhooded himself, letting the light from the roaring fire gently warm his face. He had been travelling for many miles, speicifically from the stretching plains of Rohan, home of the horse-lords.

Many miles was his trek, and he came here only for one thing: a pint of ale.

Yes, this ale was the best in the land of Middle-Earth, save for the ale that was made in Rohan, and still that alle had not the strength and enlightenment of the ale here in the Green Dragon Inn of the Shire.

Every muscle and bone in his body ached. He looked across the inn at the bar, and he saw a familiar face that he had not seen in many months.

Aman, the bartender.

He smelled the delicious food and dreamt that it was already in his mouth. He closed his eyes, dazed and bewildered by the fact that when he opened them, he was chewing on his own tongue!

He made his way through the maze of randomly positioned tables and chairs and sat himself on the last open stood at the bar, between two young hobbits that sat there, drinking pints of ale.

Both were young, their eyes blue and green, and their youth displayed through their lively laughs when they joked with one another.

Theoric thought to himself. 'Why would two young hobbits waste their lives away drinking ale here? They have wars they must train for!'

But then he remembered-he was not in Rohan anymore. He was in the Shire, a place where wars did not exist and death was rare. This was the norm, for hobbits young and old.

Theoric laughed to himself as he looked deep into the eyes of the approaching bartender.

He smiled.