He takes a deep breath, "You might not return” he says with a sigh. “The lands outside the protection of our people is not meant to be faced alone, but we need eyes and ears that we can trust", his soft, rich crimson robes stirs in the breeze, "You would need to be brave my young ones, may the Valar watch over you"his voice as soft as the rustle of leaves. Zargodon nods as he meets his father’s eyes.
The wind blows heavy through his hair as he rides hard with ecstatic ecstasy while the countryside slides past him like a blur of paint. He was not at all sad about leaving Seeing the world meeting dwarves, hobbits and men, being part of something bigger is what he wanted. What he needed. That is why he joined the rangers (Elven rangers of Celondim)
The wall peaks out from behind the hill. This is it, this is Bree, excited and afraid, he dismounts and slowly walks closer. The wind blows through his fair blond hair. What to expect. The walls enclose the town like a cocoon, he feels unwelcome, not like the wide open cities of the elves.Two guards standing in front of the gates eyes every one distrustfully. Zargodon leads his horse closer while staying as far from everyone as he can manage
The stink of man. The dirt on their faces, the loud noises, it all seems so strange. Where should he go, to his left a man creams aloud next to him, selling his wares, the cobbles under his feet feels too hard and the oppressive atmosphere intrudes on him. He just wants to go back, back to his home. This is not how he thought this would be. Everything so strange and unforgiving, he is alone here. Hesitantly walking down the road giving way for the carts and children, he looks around confused and scared. Where should he go he thinks again. Reforming his thoughts, he focuses on the mission.
After leading his horse around town for like seems forever, he comes across a fountain with a few people standing around an elf playing the flute. A small smile crosses his face as he walks a bit closer. Uncertain of what to do next, he stands behind the crowd listening to the bard play patting his horse, more to comfort himself than the beast.
Standing there losing track of time he realize that was getting late. The skies darkening as a chill seeps into the air. He needs to find a place to rest. Looking around him, he spots a couple of drunken dwarves exiting what looks like an inn. The building looks old and rough like so many others in Bree. Or maybe all human structures looks like that. He maneuvers past the dwarves making sure as not to draw to much attention to himself.
He hears them arguing about some coins they lost, their clothes stained with oil a and their beards unkempt and dirty. Just as he reaches the door a group of men burst out almost knocking Zargodon down the steps, he moves quickly to one side letting the men pass . Their voices loud with laughter. Cautiously he opens the door standing well back for anyone ells that might want to come out.
The smell of sweat and ale hits him like a gust of hot wind. The inn was full, clattering. All these strange people, he can see their bodies glister with sweat in the light of the fire. A hobbit was dancing drunkenly in front of a minstrel by the fire. Her body swaying to and through as her feet just barely keeps her upright. At the counter in front of him stands a crowd all shouting at the barman. Zargodon moves slowly closer. A hot flush crosses his face, turning his face a brighter red matching his robes. This is going to be a long night. Standing behind the crowd, he tries to get the barman’s attention.
“Barman” he says, the crowd just keeps on shouting
“Barman” he says a little louder. His head hurts his feet is sore, the world begins to spin
“Barman” he shouts loudly above the others.
The patrons turns towards him. There’s a moment of silence before it all continues.
He turns around defeated and starts to leave the inn. As he steps to open the door the little hobbit runs towards him from the minstrel. “Your new here aren't you, ” she asks. Her face flushed and her voice sounded to thick. “Yea, I am” he replys looking distraught, shaking his head as he makes for the door again. The hobbits run in front of him almost tripping him. “Aye, I can help. I know a few people around here, can at least get you a room.” She says with a toothy smile “I can not” he says to soft, stops and begins again a bit louder squaring his shoulders “I am afraid, I cannot pay you for your services my lady” he bows slightly before turning to the door. She grabs him by his pants and half drags him up a few steps and down a corridor, passing a couple kissing next to one of the many tables that line the hallway. Her green tunic shines slightly in the light of the torches. Zargodon tries to protest. “It is not necessarily my dear hobbit”
She runs around him and starts to push “I will be the judge of that.Pointy” she says giggling, shaking her head.
