Ginger and the Dwarf
Ginger had her empty serving tray tucked under one arm and was hurrying back to the kitchen, when she heard a low voice call out, ‘I say, Miss!’ She paused for a moment and turned toward the source. A newcomer to the Inn, she could see. And he was a Dwarf! She’d only been working at The Green Dragon for a short while and she couldn’t recall meeting one of the Dwarven people.
He seemed a nice enough fellow, she thought, drawing near him. His eyes twinkled in his face and beneath the generous beard and mustache she thought she could see him smiling.
‘Do you think you might bring a hungry Dwarf some eggs and ham?’ he went on as she stopped at his table. ‘And perhaps a pint of your fine ale to wet my whistle. My tongue’s fair parched from the dust kicked up from your farmers’ wagons!’
‘Yes, sir! Master Dwarf!’ she said, nodding her head to his requests. ‘I’ll just fetch your drink first and hurry back with your breakfast after.’ She turned to go, then as quickly turned back. ‘My name’s Ginger, by the way,’ she said introducing herself. ‘And, well, what is it they call you when you’re at home. If you don’t mind that is?’
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Buttercup speaks with Newalme
To her left, Buttercup could see Ginger speaking to one of the newcomers. A russet haired Dwarf with a yellow cloak draped over his chair. He seemed friendly enough, and Ginger seemed at ease with him. Ginger was a new, young helper at the Inn, and Buttercup kept an eye on her in case she needed help with the tougher customers. This fellow appeared well mannered, however, so Buttercup passed on by.
She had only taken a few steps when a tall Elf hailed her. He had just gotten up from where a golden haired lady Elf sat. Brim she thought she remembered was the lady’s name. And this must be her traveling companion.
‘What can I do for you?’ she asked as she stepped up to where Newalme stood. ‘Would you and the lady like something to eat and drink?’
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. . . for they love peace and quiet and good tilled earth . . . are quick of hearing and sharpeyed, and though they are inclined to be fat and do not hurry unneccesarily, they are nonetheless nimble and deft in their movements . . . FOTR - Prologue
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