[Thenamir]

Calenheled Redspear drew his cloak tighter around him, as much from cold as from nervousness, as he proceeded past house, barn, and storefront down the cobbled lane toward the White Horse Inn.

The people of Rohan streamed past him on foot and horseback in all manner of garb from beggar to prince. Intent on their own business they took little notice of the walker, short and thin as he was, but his imagination made it seem that they were all stealing furtive glances at him. In his mind they all laughed behind their hands at the poor boy from the backward outlying village who had the audacity to try his stories against the best in Rohan.

Of course, it was that very imagination that got him here to begin with, though it sometimes got the better of him. At home he had been a passable help with the chores and farmwork, but his mind was always elsewhere, daydreaming of the stories he'd heard in the common room of the local inn of winning reknown, glory, and (certainly not least) the hand of a fair maid in battle or quest. Many were the songs and tales he'd sought out and memorized, especially when he'd heard there was someone who knew some or part of the old tales of the elves.

His parents, not rich but certainly as well off as small farmers in that area could be, were kindly and understanding. They knew a skilled bard could make a fair living for himself and so did not discourage him from developing his craft as best he could in their village. But they knew he would find little audience and less experience in the small farming enclave in the Westemnet. And so it was that they granted his request to go to the capital of their land and seek out the true masters of story and song who could teach him with their example and their critiques.

Upon finding the door of the White Horse, he nearly turned away, and was only able to grasp the doorlatch through the anguished determination of knowing that here was the key to that which he loved best -- spinning a tale and holding an audience captive upon his every whisper, turn, and nuance. Plus, he thought, there will be warmth inside, and food. My money will not last long, and I must begin earning my keep as soon as possible. He pushed the door open and walked inside, trying to look confident.