|
Horse and rider entered into the courtyard of The Golden Perch Inn after a hard day's ride. The rider's face was obscured by the hood of his dark travelling cloak, yet he deftly swung from the back of his horse, and handed the reins off to the boy who came from the stables, along with a silver coin for the trouble. He took a quick glance around before entering into the Inn.
Vehil slipped silently to a table without drawing to much attention to himself. The less attention he got at the moment the better. He was a tall, fair-skinned elf with the dark-brown hair characteristic of his family. He hailed from Lothlorien, the golden wood. He ordered a drink from a passing Hobbit, who squeaked out a reply. Vehil began to nervously thumb the long knife that hung from his side. A drink was what he needed to calm his nerves, and let him think clearly.
Where am I gonna begin? he thought. He glanced around for a sign, anything that would show him where to begin. The hobbit put the ale in front of him, and Vehil stared into its contents. Better just wait here and see what happens."
|