The door burst open, and in came a short, but wide character, his beard nearly touching the floor. Swinging his cloak behind his shoulders and removing the hood from his head, he started the walk towards the bar.
"Gimme a cag o'bear, me fine..."
He stopped there for a second as he confortably worked his place upon a barchair.
"Dwarf?!"
he cried out as he saw who was standing behind the disk. The bartender smiled warmly as he poured bear into a large mug.
"Here you are master...?"
"Turgon Hardhammer at yer service."
The dwarf said with a wide smile.
"And ye'r who?"
He returned.
"I am Dwarin Thunderhammer, owner of this fine inn!"
Turgon nodded his agreement.
"Fine place ye'r havin here! Me butt shall find rest for the evnin, hidden in countless mugs o'bear."
He grinned eagerly as Dwarin handed over the full mug.
"And a pleasure to meet yeh, me fine dwarf!"
Dwarin nodded and turned to a new customer, noting his orders.
Turgon lifted the mug and poured its content into to his welcoming mouth, bear spilling down his long, brown beard.
"Bah, gimme another one!"
Turgon ordered as he placed the mug hard down onto the bartable and wipt his hand across his mouth, taking away to spillt bear.
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"You cannot pass. I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!"
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