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Envinyatar · 01-11-2003, 10:07 PM

Carl had not come to the Inn with the others. He had gone on before them as they left the Barrow Downs, scouting the territory that lay ahead of them. His senses were on alert, as he ranged to either side of the road, looking for any scent or sight of threat. He did not mean for the group to be surprised again by hidden dangers.

Even now he ranged east of Bree, and what he saw disturbed him. Four-toed tracks of some four legged beasts crossed and recrossed the edges of the road. Wolves, he thought. Or worse yet, since the prints were large, Wargs. The hair on his neck stood up as he considered them – some were fresh, perhaps a day or two old.

The evening was eerily silent, the only sound the whoosh of the wind driven snow as it blew past his ears. A night such this could hide anything, he thought grimly to himself. Knocking an arrow to his bow, he turned west and headed swiftly back toward the Inn.

He stood beneath the overhang of the entry way and brushed the snow from his feet as best he could. A shake of his cloak and some slaps to his breeches drove the clinging snow from them. Entering the Inn, he stood a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the brighter light within. The warmth from the fire hit him, and he looked gladly toward it, and then toward the bar with the plump Innkeeper behind it.

Licking his lips in anticipation, he strode quickly to the bar, and asked for a pint of winter ale. The Innkeeper looked at him, and chuckled at the request. ‘Best you asked for that, laddie.’ he said drawing the ale into the mug. ‘Winter ale is all we have!’ He winked at his joke, and handed the mug to Carl.

Carl turned and looked about the room for his fellow travelers. He wanted to speak with Bullroarer about what he had found, but saw him nowhere. Going up to the table where the majority of the party sat, he plunked himself down in a chair. His blue eyes crinkled as he looked from one to the other.

‘Anyone know where the Bull is?’ he asked, motioning to a passing serving girl for another ale. ‘I have some news for him. Where is he?’

[ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]

01-11-2003, 10:07 PM	#174
Envinyatar Quill Revenant Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: Wandering through the Downs..... Posts: 849	Carl had not come to the Inn with the others. He had gone on before them as they left the Barrow Downs, scouting the territory that lay ahead of them. His senses were on alert, as he ranged to either side of the road, looking for any scent or sight of threat. He did not mean for the group to be surprised again by hidden dangers. Even now he ranged east of Bree, and what he saw disturbed him. Four-toed tracks of some four legged beasts crossed and recrossed the edges of the road. Wolves, he thought. Or worse yet, since the prints were large, Wargs. The hair on his neck stood up as he considered them – some were fresh, perhaps a day or two old. The evening was eerily silent, the only sound the whoosh of the wind driven snow as it blew past his ears. A night such this could hide anything, he thought grimly to himself. Knocking an arrow to his bow, he turned west and headed swiftly back toward the Inn. He stood beneath the overhang of the entry way and brushed the snow from his feet as best he could. A shake of his cloak and some slaps to his breeches drove the clinging snow from them. Entering the Inn, he stood a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the brighter light within. The warmth from the fire hit him, and he looked gladly toward it, and then toward the bar with the plump Innkeeper behind it. Licking his lips in anticipation, he strode quickly to the bar, and asked for a pint of winter ale. The Innkeeper looked at him, and chuckled at the request. ‘Best you asked for that, laddie.’ he said drawing the ale into the mug. ‘Winter ale is all we have!’ He winked at his joke, and handed the mug to Carl. Carl turned and looked about the room for his fellow travelers. He wanted to speak with Bullroarer about what he had found, but saw him nowhere. Going up to the table where the majority of the party sat, he plunked himself down in a chair. His blue eyes crinkled as he looked from one to the other. ‘Anyone know where the Bull is?’ he asked, motioning to a passing serving girl for another ale. ‘I have some news for him. Where is he?’ [ January 11, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ] __________________ ‘Many are the strange chances of the world,’ said Mithrandir, ‘and help oft shall come from the hands of the weak when the Wise falter.’ – Gandalf in: The Silmarillion, 'Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age'