[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman excused herself from Beren as the first of a string of newcomers entered; the tall, handsome ranger-type, Gondorian from the look of him, and quite possibly a soldier by the way he held himself, despite his evident nervousness, swept up by Ruby and Buttercup quickly; Lumiel, Nedieth, and Enif, all three elves, all three entering seperately. The Innkeeper smiled to herself - it seemed most of the Inn's denizens were elvish even now. Even if Rivendell had the current title of the Last Homely House, The Green Dragon was surely not far behind it. Not to mention another man, his hair in a long braid, wet with rain, falling down his back. She looked more closely, and recognised the man as being one of her own people, Rohirrim, and she started towards him, eager for news of the land of the horse lords. But Cook got there first, taking his order for food as she passed quickly on her way to the kitchen. The day had certainly got off to a crackin start - already the Inn seemed busier than ever.

Another newcomer entered even as Aman turned towards the kitchen to get her own breakfast, and caused the Innkeeper to stop. The tall, proud figure, her chin held high as the eyes of the many customers flickered towards her, was nonetheless shivering slightly, her cloak damp and her hair dishevelled as she tried in vain to neaten it and to cover her ears. Another elf, hmm? But the soaked figure was so wet and the hem of her cloak slightly muddy, and Aman guessed she may even have been travelling without a horse in this stormy weather. She hastened over quickly, meeting the figure in front of the bar, where she ordered an ale. Aman obliged, and the woman smiled gratefully, murmuring her thanks, before turning. But as she turned, her cloak now unclasped at the neck and more open, one side wafted open slightly (and wetly), and Aman glimpsed the sword in her belt, and across her back she noticed the elvish bow. Raising an eyebrow, Aman frowned. She would have to get someone at the door again to avoid awkwardness in times like these, especially when Pio and her family arrived - she would not take any risks of that sort with the children.

Glancing around the Inn, Aman cast a longing glance towards the kitchen and subsequently her breakfast, before approaching the woman where she had now sat at a table and was struggling to remove her soaking cloak without drenching all those nearby.

"Here..." Aman lifted the cloak at the shoulders, letting the woman shrug it off and step out more easily. The woman smiled appreciatively.

"Thankyou,"
"No problem...?"
A pause. "Bethelarian."
Aman smiled. "No problem, Bethelarian." She held the soaking object at arms length, and made as if to go to the cloak hanger, before stopping as if just remembering something, clicking her fingers slightly. "Oh...and would you like me to take your weapons as well?"

Her tone was friendly, but there was a gleam in her eye. She hoped the woman would pick up on the fact it wasn't entirely choice.