The Golden Perch Inn

[Mänwe]

Aside from the odd looks that he had received having planted himself at a table of patrons uninvited with not so much as a nod or any eye contact what so ever he also had to worry about how exactly to engage the Dwarf. Who appeared to have calmed a little and the Hobbit having briefly returned to the table with parchment and quill had retreated toward the door behind the counter.

His observation of the exchange had told Limaris that he would not be returning to the table unless asked. The buzz of conversation at the table he had sat himself had picked up again after his rather abrupt appearance, and Limaris took advantage and stood once more and strode toward the table at which the dwarf was seated. As he approached he cleared his throat politely as if something were irritating his throat and immediately spoke;

“A shining and unblemished coat of mail, no missing links nor any replacement links, each looks as if it had been but made yesterday, straight from the forge! Yet here you are, tired and dusty clearly from long travels. Nay cannot be steel, there be only one metal that could remain so polished and unbroken.”

At his next words he stepped right up to the table and looked at the dwarf and proceeded to seat himself lowering his voice slightly,

“A fine coat of mithril sir! I am known as Aranholt, I have a passing knowledge of smith craft, and how by the blessed life of my mother did you come across such piece?”

He continued to hold the gaze with the dwarf, it would be best if he appeared confident and merely curious. Boy but was he complicating things, two wholly different characters he’d created now in as many hours.

Would that he had kept things simple, should Dick return and call him by another name, things would certainly get complicated. And again his thoughts could not help but return to that of assuming a different role and how far he might press the individual for information. A non stop and attempted subtle interrogation this was turning out to be. Offering his hand to shake he blocked out everything around him, he and the dwarf,Dick and the other Hobbit would be the only ones in the Inn, certainly they were the only ones he had to worry about for now; he would need to tread carefully.

[mormegil]

Kuric received the parchment and writing implement and wasn’t sad to see Tollers leave. While he had enjoyed his brief conversation with him, Kuric wasn’t much of a conversationalist and really wasn’t in the mood to be chatting, unless it was grand tales that were almost too outlandish to be true. He had also realized that his assessment of hobbits was closer to the mark than he had thought when young Tollers began talking of adventure and had caused his hopes to rise. With a degree of disappointment focused on the parchment. He was looking forward to quickly jotting down a note and heading up to take a brief respite from his travels. Unfortunately for him, Kuric wasn’t great at his letters and was never much one to write with any degree of eloquence.

He sat deep in thought as to how to begin his letter to Bilbo and had finally resolved to start by simply writing:

Billbo,

The trouble was, as Kuric saw it, he didn’t know if he had spelled it correctly and wasn’t about to ask if he had, maybe he would have somebody write it for him. He never liked learning or being taught as he found it extremely tedious and boring, but he hated letting people know he wasn’t as well educated as he should be too. So showing his possible typo was off, perhaps if he paid sufficiently he would get somebody to write it. While musing on his current quandary, he was surprised when a stranger began to talk to him.

“A shining and unblemished coat of mail, no missing links nor any replacement links, each looks as if it had been but made yesterday, straight from the forge! Yet here you are, tired and dusty clearly from long travels. Nay cannot be steel, there be only one metal that could remain so polished and unbroken.”

Kuric watched as this newcomer proceeded to sit down at his table and tried to size him up, without a thought Kuric subtlety reached for his mace that was at his side, hoping not to be in a threatening posture, hoping it wasn’t even noticeable but decided that it really didn’t matter and he would rather be in a state of preparedness than taken unawares. Kuric had been questioned before about his mail and too often the results of the conversations turned bloody. His troubled mind flashed to the last group of thieves who thought that his coat belonged to them and wondered what this newcomer had in mind.

“A fine coat of mithril sir! I am known as Aranholt, I have a passing knowledge of smith craft, and how by the blessed life of my mother did you come across such piece?”

His previous troubles of the writing now forgotten, the dwarf focused on the newest problem at hand and wondered if he would find any peace here.

“Aranholt, did you say? Well what do you want to know about me mail for? How it is mine is for me to know and I’m not to be sharing with the likes of you. Now if you have nothing else to say I suggest you leave!”

With that he gave a dismissive grunt and began to look at the parchment again trying to appear interested and hoping that this newcomer wouldn’t cause any trouble. Peace was not Kuric’s lot in life though there were times when even he enjoyed such times. His hand would stay on his mace until he felt more secure with the situation and stranger before him. He would, as always, have to be prepared for the worst.

[Folwren]

Little Begonia lay shrieking on the bed, demanding her mother’s attention with fierce and furious cries. Her mother’s attention could not switch immediately to her, she had seven other children to deal with.

“Mom, Mom, can’t we eat breakfast?”

“Mom, I’m hungry!”

“Mom, can I go fishing today?”

Mrs. Thedgethistle was driven to distraction. The baby screamed louder. Finally, she turned from her older swarm and picked up Begonia. “Daisy, take everyone but Bill and Meg out, will you?”

Lil leapt to her feet, off of the bed where she had been sitting looking through a picture book. Five year old Bill and three year old Meg threw themselves on their mother, begging with all their might to be allowed to go out, too. Lil didn’t want her mother to change her mind. It was bad enough that Iris, who was a whole year younger than her, got to go, too. If Mom let Bill go, disasters might happen.

Lil grasped Daisy’s hand and pulled her towards the door. “Come on!” she said. “Let’s go exploring, please!”

[Finduilas]

Elorn paused when he caught sight of the sign of The Golden Perch. He knew it was a good inn by hobbit standards, but he had no clue what hobbit standards were. But he also knew that something was often better than nothing. And hobbits seemed pleasant creatures, once you got used to children that were entirely grown up.

He decided to stop and as he entered the inn, he looked around for a seat. Seeing a chair that was out of the way and close to a corner, he made his way to it. He had first seen a hobbit just a few days ago, and wanted to be able to observe them without being overly observed himself.

A dwarf’s hand on his mace and half ignoring the man across the table from him, caught Elorn’s eye. It looked like a possible argument, and though Elorn didn’t like trouble, arguments were usually interesting.

[Folwren]

Dick had helped his newest customer and found himself standing with nothing to do behind the counter. He looked over the common room several times, but everyone seemed well and happy, with food and drink before them. From behind him, in the kitchen, he could hear Cela’s voice break out in protest. Something about an apple pie… Tollers again, Dick figured, and promptly shut out the sound of a possible row. His eyes scanned the room again and he was just about to go see if he could find Rowan when a new comer entered the inn.

It was a tall man who came in, young and handsome. His eyes scanned the room quickly as he entered and immediately, he made his way over to a far, shadowed corner, away from the light of the windows, and took a seat. Once more his eyes passed around the room and Dick saw them settle on the dwarf and the man that he had previously been speaking with. Dick’s eyes followed his gaze and he, too, saw the hand clenched on the shaft of the mace. His eyebrows lifted and then lowered with concern. He didn’t want an argument and he didn’t think trouble would be interesting enough to pay for the trouble it would cause.

But an argument had not been declared and trouble had not begun. Dick didn’t want to address the dwarf without need and therefore he wouldn’t. Instead, he would see if the new guest needed anything.

He went about the counter and pattered quickly over the solitary young man and drew his attention to himself as he arrived by speaking.

“G’day, my dear sir! May I get you anything? Ale? Wine? Beer? Breakfast, maybe, instead? We’ve got biscuits and eggs and bacon and perhaps anything else you want?”

[MaskedNicci]

Alassë

The Golden Perch, the sign said. Alassë figured that it would do no harm to go inside and have something to drink. She wasn't about to get drunk and chatter away loose-tongued with the locals, but she couldn't deny being parched for thirst.

Stepping inside wearing her comfortable and well-worn traveling clothes, she ventured to look openly around. It was cozy inside, and she had just entered in time to see another figure seat himself. It was a human, and he looked a tad suspicious to Alassë, though he wasn't the ugliest of his race, and there was no outward signs that should cause her to suspect him of anything but traveling to see a relative. Yet she suspected, just the same. He was observing his surroundings quickly and with curiosity, which Alassë still did not like. Seating herself not too far from him, she took her turn at observation.

[Finduilas]

Elorn gave a start when a hobbit, apparently the landlord, addressed him. He had stopped thinking about the man and dwarf, or even about the inn, and had been thinking of home.

“Oh. Good day,” he replied. “ Um, yes, I’d like… ale for now. Thanks.”

As the hobbit turned to go Elorn stopped him. “Excuse me, but how would I be able to get a message to a Farmer Maggot? Where exactly does he live? And I would like to get a room here. I don’t know how long I will be staying.”