The door creaked as the Dúnedain, Dûrvagor Cormyr, walked into the Green Dragon. His sword clanked against the door frame which caught the innkeeper's attention.
“Hold it buddy, no weapons in here, and if you don't like it, than there's another pub in Bree,” the innkeeper instructed with a chuckle as she placed her mug on the shelf.
Removing his hood, he replies, “Alright, but I’ll warn you now that if they’re gone when I come to claim them…”
“It’s okay, this is the Shire you know.”
Dûrvagor continued on, stripped of all weapons, to any empty table previously occupied by an elf who’s weapons were placed next to his, only guessing by the Lothlorien markings on his bow. He glanced around the inn and realized there were more men and elves than hobbits.
After claiming his table, he headed up to the bar and ordered a pint of ale to sooth his weary body. Not being very social, he passes a group of other travelers in a very thick conversation, and continues to his table.
Drinking his pint, slowly calming down, he notices that a blonde elf is sitting in the table next to him. But, he decides not to talk to him, and continues to drink his ale.
[ June 23, 2003: Message edited by: Dûrvagor Cormyr ]
[ June 23, 2003: Message edited by: Dûrvagor Cormyr ]
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