[Garen LiLorian]

Although he never would have admitted it, Garen was just as glad the Wargs had chosen to flee, rather than fight. "Mayhap it be my fate to fall to such a creature as that," he muttered to himself, seeking again his corner and a stool on which to elevate his leg, "but I need not seek it out, nay, nor endanger such gentlefolk as here present and unable to defend against the jaws of the beast."
Almost immediately, though, his martial feelings were stirred as a young Dwarf lass made a heated request for aid in the finding of her kin, lost in northern Mirkwood. "Well spoken, lady!" He saluted her with raised cup. "Surely, and that is a noble quest. I offer to you such service as I may render. I know not the area of which you speak, but I offer you my spear, and my skills as both hunter and warrior are well known throught Middle-Earth."
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The talk had died down, with most of the inn's patrons converging in small groups, to talk about he knew not what. A young, cheerful Hobbit danced a jig, accompanying himself with a rousing chorus of song. Just the thing to lighten the mood, Garen thought, and smiled.
A lady he had not noticed before then stood, and began a song of haunting beauty. Garen sat still, enrapt in the flowing words, and, when she had finished, surprised himself by hobbling over to stand by her. "Fair lady," he began, "It doth please me greatly to hear such beauty, sad as the content may be. I would know, as I had thought myself well traveled before this, where you heard such a song, and whether it be part of a longer work, or perhaps there is a story to go with it."