"You dropped your sword? I'm surprised that you survived. Was it good luck, or bad that you lived to inflict yourself on this poor Inn?" Not to mention the patrons. This fellow was the most accident-prone that Reynion had ever met, including himself when drunk. "That was a rhetorical question, by the by."
He smiled a little at Lira. She looked a little more familiar now, probably one of the elves who'd kept more to the halls and tended the wounded, rather than going out and getting wounded like himself. Eh, well, he supposed that some people were just smarter that way.
"So, Morlathion, what brings you to the Shire?" Lira asked. Reynion brought his attention back to the conversation.
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