Eodwine and Falco
"They didn't!" Eodwine said.
"Well they should!" Falco retorted. "A perfect way to set up the tale. I'm wanting to know how playing better than anybody else gets you banned from a tavern, though."
"Mind you, Lady Saeryn," Eodwine interrupted conspiratorially but too loudly for the hobbit to miss, "Master Falco's a lawman. He'll suspect greater foul play than just playing better than everybody else."
"That's lawhobbit, if you please!" Falco retorted, then turned to Saeryn. "But I'm only a shirriff of the Shire." His chest puffed out noticeably, despite his humble words. "But I admit I'm curious about your crime, if that's what it was. Say away, and I'll ask you to forgive Master Eodwine's rude interruption seeing as he hasn't the sense to ask hisself."
"I beg your-!" Eodwine began, and stopped short, his eyes narrowing and a grin spreading. "Tut tut! You almost had it out of me, but I'll not beg your pardon for anything, Master Falco, at least not until I'm properly thanked for saving your hairy feet from that mud hole west of here. But since that's as like to happen as you telling a story straight and true, we might as well ask the fair lady Saeryn for the rest of her tale."
"Windbag," Falco declaimed, waiting intently for the young maid to continue.
"Twisty tongue," Eodwine returned out of the side of his mouth, nodding to Saeryn, who opened her mouth to continue her tale.
"Overgrown lummox," Falco said.
"Half sized showoff."
"Enough, you two!" Saeryn laughed, having tried thrice to restart her tale. "Take a draught of your ale to keep your mouths busy so I can finish my story!"
"Right you are, lady" they said as one, and lifted their ale cups.
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