[Legate of Amon Lanc]

Hilderinc didn't want to make it seem too obvious, but the truth was, he had intentionally moved near Falco and Thornden – maybe also, partially, because he wanted to overhear what Thornden was talking about. But he didn't dare to come too close, so he didn't hear anything from his and the holbytla's conversation. When Thornden approached him rather merrily – looking surprisingly happy, Hilderinc thought – he was thinking for a moment about leaving, but then, since Thornden himself had somehow nudged him to do it, he decided to approach the strange little fellow now. He cast an unreadable look after Thornden, then picked up his mug and quickly walked through the cluster of soldiers towards the hobbit. He pulled out the neighboring empty seat.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, putting his mug down on the table. "Falco, right? I am Hilderinc."

"Seats are free at Scarburg, I'm told," said the hobbit. He stood and bowed deeply. "Falco Boffin at your service, Hilderinc."

Amusing manners, Hilderinc thought, but briefly nodded his head and sat down.

"I have not had the chance to meet any of your kind before," he started casually, but even stating the obvious had brought more thoughts which had been swirling through his mind all day, and put words into his mouth before he could realise it. "You see," he said and his eyes suddenly seemed more sharp, more vivid; "just at the times when everything had seemed clear, and every deed seemed laid out before men like a wide plain in the morning light before a horse..." He waved his arm and shook his head. "Small folk out of old tales came, along with many other strange things and creatures, and brought our world to an end, turning it upside down."

Falco grinned. This Hilderinc was an Eorling to the bone, his speech full of the imagery of the plains of Rohan. "Well, I wish I could say I had a part in it, but I was cooped up in the Shire trying to stay out of the way of Ruffians and the like. They turned our world upside down as sure as Master Meriadoc and his friends did yours!"

Shire, Ruffians, Meriadoc - Hilderinc didn't let it show, but the chattiness of this little man confused him for a moment. Falco reminded him of some of the talkative peasants from Eastfold, assuming everyone knew everyone, even if they came from the middle of nowhere.

"Shire, is that what you call your land?" he said aloud, trying to sound polite. "I have only heard about it, tales about..." he hesitated, not sure whether his knowledge was right, and if it was not, then if it won't offend Falco. After all, living in a hole didn't sound, at least to an Eorlinga, very well. "...about your homes in the ground," he finished, trying to use a more neutral word. "What are 'Ruffians'?" The way the holbytla had used the word, it seemed to Hilderinc as if he had something specific in mind.

"Ruffians," said Falco, puffing his pipe, "were the nasty man-sized blokes who came up from Isengard with old Sharkey. I guess he had another name, a wizard name, Saruman. But we kicked all of them out when the Four Famous Hobbits came back from the War." He paused for a long pull from his tankard. Hilderinc didn't speak, he was frowning slightly, as if his mind was troubled by some memory stirred by the halfling's words. He was listening, but Falco already changed the subject.

"Homes in the ground," Falco quoted. "I daresay that's a friendlier way of putting it than Lady Wynflaed, though she meant no harm of course; 'holes in the ground' indeed!" Falco grinned. "Our homes are cozy and warm and watertight. The best ones are furnished with great larders and wine cellars and cozy living rooms, and of course, proper kitchens. So except for being underground, they're like what you'd expect in your own home."

How lucky to have used a "friendlier" term, Hilderinc thought. Still, living in the ground – whether you did or did not call it a hole – sounded strange to him. As Falco spoke, he started imagining some sort of bear's den with multiple rooms, including living room with a bed and a table, a wine cellar (under the underground hole?) and a kitchen with a stove. He shook his head a bit at the idea.

"Your land still sounds like a very strange place to me," he said. "But then, maybe it is always like that with strange lands we do not know. You said you 'kicked out' these Ruffians – does it mean you fought them? That would make your people sound more like warriors, maybe more akin to us. I have heard that it was your people who killed that treacherous snake, Wormtongue – is that true? Have you perhaps seen it with your own eyes? Or even took part in it? I hope you do not take it as an offense, Master Falco, when I say that you do not look exactly like a warrior to me, but maybe the appearance is deceptive – after all, your kinsmen were the ones who..." and he waved his hand, indicating all the important events of the time: the fall of the Dark Tower and that of Orthanc, the last ride of Théoden and the return of the Gondorian King.