[SmallOne]

Amadi ambled down a quiet back street of Stock, whistling a nameless tune as his bare feet kicked up the dust of the road. He was almost out of the Shire now, and very sorry to be leaving it so soon--this little detour was his last hurrah before finding the bridge over the Brandywine and into the great unknown of the Northern world. He'd enjoyed this odd, quiet little country with its equally odd little residents. It was all dusty roads and soft rolling hills with their cozy underground cottages. The local folk were pleasant and unhurried, polite even to one of the "Big Folk", as they called him, odd as he was. The very air gave him a sense of profound peace, as if he could go to sleep any moment and not worry for tomorrow, never mind he'd spent his last copper that morning.

He broke off whistling and ran a callused hand through his dark cropped hair, gazing up at the unbroken blue sky. It wasn't a real problem, not yet, anyway. He was a decent hunter and a better forager, so as long as there were woodlands, he wouldn't starve. But sooner or later he would need boots--even his deck-hardened feet couldn't take the rocks of the mountain passes--and warmer clothes. What he needed was a job. But the chances of finding something temporary in such a small town were slim.

He shrugged, and started whistling again. It would work itself out somehow; it always did. At the moment he was more interested in the "finest beer in Eastfarthing", which he was determined to sample, by any means possible. He amused himself for a few minutes thinking of ways to sneak into a hobbit cellar--it was hard in this country for one of his stature to sneak anywhere, and the mild-mannered hobbits were surprisingly protective of their foodstuffs. Take that fellow back in Bywater. No sense of humor whatsoever, that one.

Amadi stopped as he saw the inn. To his surprise, it looked to be a fair-sized establishment, complete with a stable and vegetable garden. A large part of the building stood outside of the hill, and judging from the round windows peeping out of the verge, there was even more space inside. He grinned, hopes rising. If it was this big of a place, perhaps they would need some help, after all.

Amadi bypassed the front door altogether and stepped neatly over the garden's fence, careful not to crush the herbs and vegetables growing there. He stuck his head in the half-open kitchen door, rapping on the door frame and putting on his most winning smile.

"Hello! Could anyone here use a cook?"