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"Swagger it, swagger it, my little cock-o-whoop." one of Sharkey's ruffians |
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Ghost Prince of Cardolan
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Niniel collapsed at the bar after the sale ended, overwhelmed by the sheer number of hobbits who'd come. She rubbed her temples and noticed an elvenmaid with black hair and bright eyes glancing at her. Niniel twined her hair around her fingers self-conciously. Soronume was one thing, but a strange elf was quite another. For a moment, she considered speaking to the lady, but only for a moment.
Instead, she turned to Aman. "Are--are all the hob--hobbits so--loud?" she asked. Aman chuckled and nodded, but before she could make more of an answer, a loud crash came from the direction of the fireplace. Aman went to investigate, leaving Niniel alone. Again. For something to do, she rose and began to wander the Inn. She caught es of gossip, of stories, and of shared memories. Nowhere did she seem to belong, which wasn't unusual. For a time, she gazed at Soronume, but she moved on quickly, observing the other Inn patrons. It was a comfortable, familiar thing to do in an unfamiliar place. [ June 23, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ] |
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