[Will Witfoot]

Fungrim surveyed the common room. All around, people sat at the tables, eating and chattering among each other. Sunlight leaked in through the windows, gleaming of the new, polished wood of the tables. The inn looked new and fresh and at the same time as homely and cozy as a pair of old slippers.
He could not prevent a slight smile escaping to his lip's. His earlier sadness was begining to dissipate. He had achieved something here, something worthwile. He had saved the life of Indy, a child who still had a life ahead of her. He had helped in the reconstruction of the inn, helped along with all the others so that the little folk could regain something they loved.

He glanced at Indy. Understanding flickered between them, unusual between two people of so different age's. But understand eachother they did. They were kindred spirit's, desspite their age difference.

"Let's go outside, lass. Im feelin' the want to be in that sunlight."

They rose from their seats and made thier way out of the door. Once outside they headed towards an ancient oak tree that stood on the fringes of the inn's land. Fungrim sat down, his back proped against the trunk, and produced his pipe. Once he had it burning propably he turned back to the girl.

"The war I mentioned is one I have impossed upon myself. The reason I am here and not with my kin is because my sister was kidnapped by orcs, many years ago."

Indy looked up at him silently. He paused only to take a lugfull of the smoke before continuing.

"I set of in pursuit, but I arrived too late. They had killed my sister." Fungrim's fist clenched slightly, but otherwise he showed no sign's of aggitation. "Luckily I came upon the orcs at the height of noon, while they were resting and hiding from the sun's fiery gaze. I killed most of them and the rest fled."

The child gazed at him, something like horror evident in her eyes. "That day I swore an oath to never rest till every orc in the world has fallen, under my axe or the blade's of the other free peoples, or till their fell number's claim me. But never shall I cease in the reclaimin of the blood-depth they owe me and my clan."

He wondered if he had done the right thing, troubling the child with this kind of talk of slaughter and death. Then again, desspite the downfall of the Dark Lord it was still a dangerous world, and the sooner she regognized it, the better. He still hoped that she never had to face the danger herself, but could reamin safe here in this quiet and peacefull land.
It was just as well that he had'nt told her how his family had blamed him for his sisters death, some even suspecting him to be her killer. That was the real reason he had left.