Penlard finally saw the large wall surrounding the town of Bree. He had travelled just short of 400 leagues from Minas Tirith, all in search of his son, Duinnion.
Penlard's fragile old frame slowly stepped down from the back of his trusty horse and took out a small parchment. A well travelled friend had simply written on it, 'The Prancing Pony'.
Penlard got back on his horse and continued down the path, leaning his head back slightly and letting the slight breeze go across his face as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He approached the south gate and suddenly a small window upon the gate opened and the face of a younger man appeared, he looked up at Penlard with surprise, not often a noble looking man appears in these parts and Penlard spoke, his noble deep voice obvious.
"Good evening young man, as pleasant as the air is out here, I am looking for The Prancing Pony, if you would be kind enough to show me the right direction"
Suddenly the mans face disappeared and the gate began to open, "Excuse the closed gate, it is growing late and there have been many strange happenings these days", Penlard guided his horse through the gate and the guard closed it behind them, "As for the Inn, it is further north along the road, you'll come by a market, follow the road through there and you can't miss the Inn".
Penlard looked forward down the road, a quiet town it seems at night, he offered the guard a quick nod of thanks and continued the final part of his journey and with ease found a sign indicating the inn he had been searching for.
Penlard turned into what was clearly the stable area and a small person, child like but with facial features similar to that of a man appeared before his horse.
"Hello! I'm Bob, I work for Barliman here. I take care of the horses. Shall I tie up yours and get him fed?"
Penlard got down from upon his horse and smiled as he knelt down, "I've heard stories of your kind, of halflings. Some thought you were purely a myth but it would do me well to change them claims once I get back to Gondor in the future....but yes, yes certainly take Auctorem here, he will need to be well fed and I trust you to do so for me".
Bob had stood, mouth open with surprise at the mention of Gondor and suddenly, with slight excitement he couldn't stop himself from asking a few quick questions, "Gondor?! I hear darkness is brewing in those parts? Is that true? What of the white city we often hear whispers about? What has brought you so far? Have you come with a warning? Or are you in need of help?" suddenly he shook himself a little, realising that he had spoken too much. Penlard laughed a little and stood back to his feet. "I am sorry sir, I do tend to speak too much, that isn't an unusual thing for a Hobbit but my duties require me to just tend to the horses and I get my coin at the end of each day".
Penlard nodded, his expression had not changed from the smile he wore on his face, "Please do not worry yourself, halfling. Perhaps tomorrow I can answer your questions over a drink". He turned and walked slowly up the nearby steps, the aches from past battles reminding him of a long felt life. He opened the door which led into a kitchen and the sound of singing and drunk conversation from the bar down the corridor hit him without delay...
