[Rune Son of Bjarne]

Frór opend his eyes, he was sitting alone outside the Green Dragon with an empty mug in his lab. He looked around and found his pipe lying on the ground, it was full, but had not been litt. "How strange, the tobaco is still warm. I must have dosed of for a second or two Frór mumbeld. You should indeed have been standing close to hear what the dwarf said to him self in this moment.

As he stood up a breath of air hit him, it was in this moment he realised that he indeed had fallen a sleep very suddenley. He had never finnished his ale and now his pants were soacked in it. Just pretent nothing happend and noboddy will notice, yes thats the key. Just ingore it, no problem Frór said to him self. The truth was that he infact was quite embarresed that he had fallen asleep with out finishing his ale. The thing with the pipe he could handle as he had not slept for a while, but to fall a sleep when you are holding a mug of some of the finest ale in middle-earth. He would be laughing stock in every dwarf dwelling from Erebor to the Blue Mountains.

What would Ibun not think of him, falling a sleep in his precens. A greater insult Frór could not think of as he stood there.

Frór picked up his pipe, mug and emptied both completley, as he stood there the smell of food from the kitchen meat him and what a delight full smell it was. As he stood there and dreamed of what fantastic dishes they might serve inside, he rememberd Ibun saying: ‘I’m going in for some food. . . Good food, by the smell of it, too!. . .I’ll just go in and get us a table, if you wish.

Frór was relived by this sudden return of memory, he did not insult his new travel companion and there might even be some food waiting for him inside.

No need to let the fine master Ibun and the food wait Frór spoke somewhat loud as he headed for the door. . .