Two Parties

A warm light spilled from the window. A heavy wooden door might have looked foreboding if it was not that someone hadn't closed it fully. From within the building, conversation and merriment could be heard. Some sort of gathering. Es entered without hesitation.

There were more people within than he expected to see. Finely dressed. Among them, an elf, one of those hobbit creatures, and a man with Gondorian symbols on his clothes.

One of the revelers was leaving, so Es moved to take a seat and leave the doorway clear for them.

As he moved, the would-be hostess of the party had given a curtsy to him. The haste and jostle of surprise in the new atmosphere meant he'd not responded to her in time. She left, towards the alcohol at the far end of the room.

The elf greeted him warmly, and the fellow who wore Gondorian insignia mentioned some experience making maps. A task Es had implied he wished done.

He had found the end of this party, and the girl who had curtsied to him at the start remained the last in the room as the others filtered out one by one. He took the moments to observe her more fully.

When he'd entered the room, she had seemed all play and cheer. The perfect hostess. She'd brought a drink for him. However, he couldn't tell if it was when he queried her about the party's host, or when he revealed he himself was from Gondor, or simply when the crowd dispersed and left them alone in the room with one another.

Whichever it was, there was a change that came over her, and she suddenly seemed the flighty little doe. He spared her the social awkwardness of leaving the latecomer last, and left before her.

Curious, though. He wondered if this Vincent with such a cagey representative, was in Bree for comparable reasons to his own. He had not expected to see other Gondorians here. It boded ill.

A journey was taken with the stowaway to attend Narelin's party. Korvynn had been there also, and wounded. Es was swiftly losing track of Korvynn's strange lifestyle. He seemed to move and change like lightning. However, the news of his injury was dire, and Es decided he and Nenaura would stay a few days in order to visit their recovering new friend.

Nerolian was there. A name he kept hearing; supposedly the woman had an interest for him. Though, the same had been said a few times. Breelanders were fixated on romance. It was entertaining to nudge at it. Like feeding ornamental fish in a small pond.

The lady of the house took him on a private tour, and it satisfied him to be able to learn more about her, just as he'd intended. She was well spoken, and surprisingly open. Honest? Who could tell, but the sense was there. He asked to speak with her again over wine. Later.

He and Nenaura rode some distance off for the evening to find an inn. Not intruding on the hospitality of these new acquaintances just yet.

And just like that, two parties were attended.