[Saurreg]

Mud splattered as heavy dwarven boots worn by a pair of weary legs trudged along the trail that was called the Great East Road in the tongue of the big folks. Glòin Stealthteeth had been journeying for an entire day and was exhausted and hungry. By word of mouth, he had heard of a dwarven establishment along these parts and was eager to reach there and spend the night with the hospitality of fellow khazads.

As he reached the bent around an old willow, he saw in a distance a small stone hut with two windows illuminated from within by bright lights and wisps of smoke rising from the chimney.

Gloin exclaimed to himself, "Lo! That must be the Green Dragon Tavern! Himli wasn't pulling my beard afterall!"

It took a few more minutes before Glòin finally arrived at the doorsteps of stone hut perspiring. Just as he was about to lay his hands on the door, it opened and an elf, tall and fair stepped into the moonlight. He saw Gloin and graciously held it open for the tired Khazad to enter before giving a slight bow and exiting into the night, closing the weather beaten door behind him.

[ November 22, 2002: Message edited by: Saurreg ]