[Garen LiLorian]

Ned awoke bright and early the next morning. Usually, he wasn't what you'd call a "morning person." In fact, he held a private belief that such unholy times were reserved especially to torment him, and he regarded any hour before 11 as something to be avoided at all costs. Today was different, though. Today was the first day of his Adventure.

He made a determined effort as soon as he opened his eyes, flung back the covers and stood shivering on the cold flagstones. He wanted to be the first one there, to show that he could be counted on, and (he admitted to himself) to get the pick of the new weaponry. He had picked out his clothes the night before. His best outfit. He'd made it himself, and modeled it on the clothes those old Rangers wore whenever they came to the Pony. A old cloak, carefully and deliberately weatherbeaten. Leather pants and tunic. Ned struggled a bit with this part, as he had grown a bit since he made them. Then, he eyed his nemesis from across the room. A pair of battered boots. Normally, Ned had no more use for footwear than most Hobbits, but he'd watched carefully, and every single Ranger had them. So he'd heaved a sigh of resignation and gotten these made. They fit (if such a word even applied) abominably, and gave even Ned's thick soles blisters, but the rules were the rules. He heaved another sigh and struggled manfully with the awful things. One of them split down the heel as he tugged it on, and Ned winced as his toes were crunched against the front most painfully. At last he limped over to the mirror and regarded his form approvingly. He threw some old clothes into a backpack and strapped his little hatchet to his waist. Then, slowly, painfully, he made his way down the road towards the Pony.

He had gone about a hundred yards down the road when his left boot split entirely, and his toes peeked out of the front. He stood bewildered, then, glancing furtively around to make sure no-one was watching, ridded himself of the hated footwear. He proceeded much more cheerfully then.

When he reached the Pony, the Sun had just peeked over the horizen, and Ned was in high spirits. He flung open the door. He was the first one in the common room. He whistled a little tune, found a seat in the corner and waited for the others to show themselves.