The Hammer and the Harp

Daurrie, the youngest of the sons of Gurni, had once more forgotten to pick up the order of fresh cheese that was awaiting them at the markets of Bree. Lunch was served and the young Silvan handed over the rest of the tavern business to Dal, hoping to be able to rush to Bree and pick up the forgotten crate before the inn would close for the day.

(A continuaution of In Your Room, part 1)

Some few days after the company’s return from Angmar.

A flutter of fabric, over the stairs. Cloaked. Hooded.

Some few days after the company’s return from Angmar.

"Banter... yes, I know of this."

Cardanith said as he leaned closer to the Table while casting his gaze over at Galtharian who had placed the elf's drink of choice down before him. All the while the scowl adorning his face almost forced itself to appear as a smile as he looked to Baralinion.

The fire crackled loudly in the peaceful night. From what Arrvelas could tell, everyone else had gone off to rest for the night. There was no more chatter, no more sounds of footsteps. Only the fire.