[Hookbill the Goomba]

Hobbling into the inn, Dwaline the Dwarf leant heavily on his staff. He had spent a long time at his home some way up the road from the inn, sending letters off to his friends in distant parts, that he had decided to stay in the shire for his "Retirement". Which he saw as long overdue. His long, green cloak had been soaked in the rain and he hung it up on a peg.

He had invited some young Dwarves to help in the cleaning up of his small cottage like house, they had done a remarkable job and Dwaline had paid them, much to their delight, in pearls as well as gold. Dwaline had just watched them ride away in a now unlade cart, all chatting about what they were going to do with what Dwaline had given them.

Shuffling to the bar, Dwaline looked the bar maid in the eye with a wide and satisfied grin on his face. He placed a small bag of gold coins on the bar and said in a content and moderately quiet voice,

"A pint of your finest ale, if you would be so kind." The bar maid smiled back at him and soon placed the mug before him. He drank deep and studied his surroundings. Many Hobbits were drinking and singing and being generally merry. Although he noticed a little commotion in the common room, peeking with a curious eye, he thought better of intervening. Besides, his axe may have been Sharpe, but his arm was not as strong as it had once been.