[Lasbelinion]

Callë had not really thought to stop at the Inn. She had plenty of food in her rucksack and a full skin of fresh water, too. But the sounds coming from what seemed a large party in the Inn’s front yard drew her down the path.

She stood in the night shadows of a small stand of beech trees, her pale blue eyes taking in the goings on. Tables groaned with platters of foods and desserts. And there by them were casks of ale and another table with pitchers of other drinks available. Callë put her hands on her belly which had suddenly began to tell her how hungry it was. And not for the dried meats and waybread she had in her pack.

She tied back her dark brown hair with a thin leather cord she pulled from a pocket in her tunic, smoothing the wild and wavy locks back so as to look presentable. She polished the toes of her boots a bit – rubbing them on the back of her dark leggings. Her tunic was clean enough; she’d put it on just that day. Callë stepped out into the soft light of the tree lanterns and made her way through the crowd.

The Halfling who poured the ale gave her a friendly look as she took up a mug. She wandered to the table of food and filled a plate with bread and cheeses and a ripe, red apple atop it.

‘Where can I sit?’ she wondered, her eyes searching for an empty chair and a friendly face. There at a table sat another young woman, a mug of ale in her hands. She had a friendly face and seemed to be enjoying herself, listening to the lively music.

Callë made her way to where the dark haired woman sat. ‘Pardon me, miss – may I sit with you? My name is Callë, and I don’t really know anyone here.’ The apple, which had been precariously perched on her plate, took a mind to make a leap for freedom. It landed on the table top and rolled quickly towards the other woman’s hand.