Faye walked through the door with the hood of her clock up. She carefully put her sword Sting (which she inherated from Frodo) into it's scabber. She lowered her hood and her long blond hair shinned in the candle light. All of the voices in the Prancing Pony had stopped, and the men began talking amongse themselves looking boldly at Faye. Faye walked over to the bar and heaved herself onto the chair. 'Hello there Mr.Butterbur. Could I have an ale please.' Faye sat silently while drinking her ale.
[ August 31, 2002: Message edited by: Faye Took ]
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Dream-of the ones who came before.
They are calling from across a distant shore.
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