[Maeggaladiel]

Torlo Hillburrow sulked through the front door of the Green Dragon Inn.

"Green Dragon!" he huffed moodily to himself. "Of all the outlandish names. Dragons, in these parts! Harumph!" Walking inside, he was not much happier. A myriad of very unhobbitish creatures patroned this particular establishment, much to his displeasure.

He wouldn't have to be here if it wasn't for Marigold. Why did his sister Marigold have to go off and marry that lousy foriegn boy, anyway? There were plenty of fine young hobbit lads closer to home, that was for certain. If she had just chosen one of the local gents rather than run off with a hobbit from across the blasted country (or so it seemed) then Torlo wouldn't have to trek all across the Blasted Shire to attend her blasted first aniversary party. And he wouldn't have to stop at these blasted foriegn inns!

In all honesty, Torlo was rather nervous about staying here. Although he wouldn't admit it, possibly not even to himself, the sight of so many strange people frightened him. They were so... so... BIG.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Torlo walked to the bar, trying to look as tall and imposing as possible. This wasn't easy for a hobbit, and it in fact just pointed out his short stature even more. His brown eyes swept across the inn, taking in the patrons. A young hobbit lass, a Man or two, and several others. Not wanting to stare, Torlo forced his gaze to the bar. Blast. Even the barstools were made for taller races.

Pulling himself into one of the more hobbit-sized chairs, Torlo asked the bartender for a drink. He had a feeling he would need it.