[Hookbill the Goomba]

At that moment, an elf came into the inn. Little heed was taken of him as he walked briskly over to the bar and ordered a strong ale. When the drink was received he paid the bar tender with many gold coins, then, walking like one who has had many toils and wishes for rest, he made his way over to a small table and sat at it. He was kind of face, grey eyed, brown hair and wearing ranger like clothes. One looked at him and thought he looked well travelled, so to speak. He wore a long black hooded cloak, a sheath of odd make and a dark green tunic. On his feet were sturdy boots and on his back, a large pack laden with many things. His name was Fáinu, which is "Released" in the Qenta tong. In his left hand he held the mug of ale, but his right hand had an old bandage on it.

Always Fáinu was rather quiet, often keeping himself to himself, but would converse if approached, or it is a topic that interest or concerns him. However, most of all he enjoys jests if no one is offended.

In the past he has sometimes grown angered and heedless of peril and gone in strife with another, even if he/she was say a dragon and he would surly perish. Once upon a time he mad put down weapons when a friend and lord was grievously heart.

He was born in the year 1520 III, Dwelt in Rivendell for much of his young life, before becoming a scout and befriending many Rangers and often going abroad alone or in a small company on an errand or no. Both parents died in 2770 when Smaug descended on Erebor, destroying it and the neighbouring town of Dale as they were visiting at that time. Fáinu escaped barely by leaping into the river and hiding. Ever after regret eats his heart, but he hides it well. Leaving Dale when it was safe he came to the woodland realm and found the aid of the wood elves. Fáinu was not his right name, but he uses it thinking it more fitting, when he came back to Rivendell none recognised him, for much toil had come upon him and he named himself Fáinu and only Elrond and others with powers of perception saw in him his right name, but he bid them not speak it. His name of old was, Mánstarmin, "one who helps", and he thought it unfit.

Sitting at the table he peered into his mug and said nought. Soon he looked up and saw that many people were merrily drinking and having generally an enjoyable time, he smiled and sipped his drink.