Chuckling at her dwarf patron, who would be welcome to stay as a non-combatant providing he sings and plays for his supper, Bethberry returned to her desk and found a clever missive from an old friend. It read:
Quote:
Bethberry had just entered into the kitchen and began helping the cooks begin the cooking of the breakfasts for the many guests staying at Bethberry's fine Inn, The White Horse.
She smiled as she looked around at cooks working diligently and the cook hands rushing around the kitchen fetching spicies and other such ingredients and soon there was lovely smells of eggs and bacon sizzling in pans, bread baking in large ovens and the clanking as large canisters of milk were brought in by delivery boys.
Then she heard the flapping of wings and a beautiful falcon flew through the open door to the kitchen, startling a delivery boy carrying a canister of milk nearly making him drop it and landing on the back of a small chair sitting against the back wall near the chopping blocks. Tied to it's leg was a small parchment. Bethberry smiled knowingly and said quietly to the falcon stepping closer to it:
'Hello Wyrd...How have you fared?'
The falcon made a small noise and turned it's head sideways. Bethberry laughed, wiped her hands on her apron then took the parchment from the bird's leg. She untied the twine that held it together and unrolled it, it read:
Dear Bethberry,
I have been on one of my many wanderings and noticed you are the proprietor of a fine establishment named The White Horse . Upon inquiring around Edoras I found one was only to gain entry through the approval of the inn keeper herself, and in this way I found out you were the inn keeper.
So now I ask of you if I may be welcome in the White Horse and be able to write with and pit my wordsmith skills against those of this fine establishment. I hope you remember the old times of your stay at Minas Tirith and the adventure we started together with Gandalf The Grey, Orofacion Of The Vanyar and Madmartigan.
I hope to hear from you soon....Wyrd knows the way
Adanedhel
Bethberry put the parchment down on the table and absent mindly stroked Wyrd's head thinking over what the note had said......
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"Now why would such a clever friend think he needs a special invitation?" thought the Innkeeper to herself. "Of course Adanedhel is welcome." She set off to write a reply in case he didn't see the one here.