A dark figure slipped up the path to the Inn door. A hand reached out and opened the door. The figure slipped into and shut the door behind it. It then slid into a dark corner and seated itself at a table. A hobbit server noticed him and cautiously made his way over.
The figure proved to be a man. This fellow was wearing a think green cloak clasped at the throat by a polished silver brooch. Beneath the cloak he openly wore a tattered leather jerkin, fastened up. Bronze, rusted chain mail peeked out and fell to his elbows. Under the mail he wore a blue, water-stained shirt. A brown leather belt spanned his waist and supported a muddy sheath. He wore a black pair of leggings and high black boots, old and worn.
He also had shoulder length brown hair covered by a hood. Green eyes peered from under his mass of hair. His face sported no beard. The only distinguishing mark about him was a long purple scar that ran from the center of his forehead to his ear.
This hobbit, after surveying his visitor, said, "How may I help you, Mr...?"
"Kavekh. I am Kavekh."
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I have a signature. Isn't that great?
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