[Groin Redbeard]

Groin opened the door and stepped quietly into the in, the place was ablaze with commotion. Breakfast was being served to all the Inn’s occupants. Hobbit’s dashed in and out of the kitchen door, carrying platters staked with drinks and food.

Groin looked around the room searching for an empty table. There it was, he started making his way around the various tables when a when he was stopped.

“Um... excuse me, sir.” Groin looked around. A female Hobbit was tapping him on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your axe at the door.” She pointed to a stack of weapons all neatly assorted against the wall. Groin nodded his head and made his way back towards the door. He withdrew the huge axe from his back and gently placed it by the door, but instead of making his way an open table he folded his arms and leaned against the wall. The door opened again and the Elves, that he saw coming down the road entered the room. He stared at them for a few seconds until one of them, a girl, met his gaze. Groin bobbed his head in a short sort of a bow, and managed a smile.

He never did like Elves, but he wouldn’t his disgust show it out in public like most of his kind did. ‘Be courteous to all, but intimate with few’: that was his motto.
He watched as the Hobbit’s moved in and out of the kitchen, finally someone noticed him.
“Hello there, my name is Toller. What can I get you?”
“How’ bout a glass of your finest brew?” Groin said, glancing bar.
“I’ll get it right away.” The Hobbit sped off towards the kitchen.
Groin took his helmet off, still holding it in his left hand, and brushed his thick red hair with his hand. A fine establishment, yes this would suit me just fine for the next couple of days. Just then the boy appeared again holding a foaming glass in one hand.
“Ahh, thank you boy.” Groin outstretched his arms, ready to grab the glass.
“Cheers!” he said, placing a coin in the boys hand and holding the beer in the other.

“Boy, we sure are getting a lot of your folk around here.” Toller said, while he pulled up a chair and sat down. Groin sighed satisfied with the incredible taste of the ale.
“And what might you be meaning by that?” Groin said, in a matter that was by no ways threatening.
“Well we had a Dwarf in here a couple days ago by the name of Kuric. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?”
“Can’t say that I have, I know very few people.” He took another sip of his ale.
“Well anyways, this Dwarf called Kuric came into the Inn one evening, and he says: ‘Bring three of your finest ales!’ and so Mr. Dicks orders me to get them for him. I bring them over to him and he starts asking me about Mr. Bilbo Baggins……”
In no time at all Groin was lost in deep conversation with the Hobbit: Troller, who was recounting the story of Kuric.