[Theoric Windcaller]

The Dwarf returned to the inn sooner than he had expected, the same morning to be exact. No sign of Samwise Gamgee at his hole and Frodo Baggins had left quite some time ago.

He sighed, opening the door to the Green Dragon once more. This land, ripe and green, full of little rivers, creeks, brooks, hills, prairies, was not the adventurous land that he had hoped. Maybe it was only luck that adventure came to the four Hobbits of the War of the Ring, Frodo, Peregrin, Samwise and Meriadoc.

He didn’t mind too much though, he was off to Rohan soon enough, hopefully to join his brother and Baylin there. It had been a while since he had tasted ale at The White Horse: an inn in Rohan. It had been a while since Rohirrim men had shared their adventures with him in front of a nicely lit fire, smoking pipes and such.

That reminded Theoric that it had been quite some time before he had a pipe. Oh aye, he remembered, my pipe had been misplaced when I came upon the Misty Mountains. I must’ve dropped the thing.

Theoric got to thinking. Maybe there was a store where he could buy some new apparel, and even a new pipe and some tobacco or pipe-weed. His clothes right now were worn and torn from journeying and his boots had holes in their soles, making the Dwarf’s journey uncomfortable on the rocky roads. “Only if I were a Hobbit with leathery soles on the bottoms of my feet,” he said to himself, walking through the door.

He noticed that the inn was a bit more crowded than it was earlier in the morning. He looked around, scooping the room for his Elven friend, Lèspheria. After his futile attempts to find her, he went to the bar and sat in the same seat he had sat in the night before. Aman stood at the bar, dealing drinks and lunch for those who were hungry.

It was strange. The Dwarf, and Dwarves are hungry most of the time mind you, was not. He pushed aside the thought of more food in his stomach. The pain of his blistered soles and his weary legs made him forget about food, which was a rare thing to forget about for a Dwarf. But, alas, this Dwarf was quite different, well, this Dwarf and his brother were quite different from the rest, and he liked it that way. He wanted no ale of mead either; he had gotten his fill of those things the night before. He smiled as Aman approached him from behind the bar.

“No trouble this morning, or… nay, I mean this afternoon, m’lady, as long as you make sure Rumto has gone away,” said the Dwarf, trying to make amends to the event that had taken place the night before. “Rumto is gone, have no worries,” she said, walking off to accommodate another guest.

He sighed.

“Maybe I will stay here, just another night. And, tonight I will plan out my route and buy supplies for my journeying to Rohan,” he said to himself.

“Oh! I better get a room now, or else I might have to sleep in the stables tonight. I wouldn’t want to wonder what that’s like,” he added, rolling his eyes.