I'll be one o'the first to admit I haven't got a near penchant for the written art, Westron especially. Scholars and writers and book-keepers. Bah! I would not be writing this if it were not for the events at the Pony.
Oh, but events they were.
Asides from the two Hobbits that were gallumphing about with their wits muddled, I had stumbled into what was presumably a fight (and I curse myself for not getting involved, for there's an ache in my bones that longs for old fights past). The beginning was all but a blur, Butterbur standing well out of the way and hoping they wouldn't cause too much damage. It was Men -- of course it was Men fighting in Bree -- squabbling and ruckusing almost in a way I could be proud of.
That was until there was a body on the floor.
Y'see, there's not much I can do in the way of the bow and arrow to help and heal at this point. Poisons are easy, simple things with the right-of-way. But wounds: deep wounds made by either accident or hate are not things easily as fixable.
I did all I could, even if it was laughably little, and a Rivendell Elf and I shared a drink.
There's a bit of a gap here, as you might imagine.
The Men cleared out as quickly as the fight had started, and the Pony was once again quiet (too quite for people in the same mind as I). After a quick check in the back, however, I went outside to retrieve Minty, only to find the Men on the Pony's doorstep.
Aye, this is not my business, I had thought to myself. It would be dishonourable to interject in a fight I have no business in!
It was then when I caught some of the Men's names, right before one was thrown down the stairs of the Pony. The one being thrown was Fridbjorn, and he got up in decent timing, if I might say. The one doing the throwing wasn't quite as clear, but the names I did catch were Torgrun and Tyrgrim. They saw Fridbjorn and his company away from the Pony, insults being thrown back and forth in a most amusing fashion.
And then it was quiet. Again.
I do not know what has become of the Woman on the floor or either of the parties involving the throwing and the stairs, but it was a welcome relief from what was becoming stifling boredom.
I think I need to travel east.
