[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman smiled at the nervous looking individual as she drew out a pint for him, pushing it across the bar. The man (a Gondorian, Aman made an informed guess) smiled gratefully before wrapping long fingers around the brass handle, then Aman answered him.

"Not a birthday, no - or not in the sense of a person's birthday. The Inn - this Inn, that is, the Green Dragon - recently suffered a fire, and the travellers coming by along with the halflings have done the folk of Middle Earth justice," she smiled fondly. "They rebuilt most of it, as it had to be pulled down, but not even three weeks later..." she gestured around her, a small smile of proud slipping onto her sharp features. "Less than three weeks later, I have almost a new Inn, and that is what this party celebrates. And may I ask what your name is, sir? You have not been to the Shire before, I guess?"

"Aman."

The voice did not come from the man in front of Aman, but from another, who spoke before the nervous possibly-Gondorian could speak. Aman turned to see Snaveling standing nearby, half hidden even in the light atmosphere of the Inn. Something had always struck her as wrong about this sneaking, shadowy-natured man, and she had heard gossip...but then, the Innkeeper paid little heed to gossip, being as much of it was about her, and after all, it was a party! "Snaveling, can I help you?"

"Is there naught but ale and wine in this place?" he asked. "I feel the need of something much stronger!"

Snaveling's tone was slightly mocking, but more jovial and slightly louder than his usual quiet mutterings. He has been drinking...such men are dangerous when they drink, I fear... warned the voice in Aman's head, but her expression remained unruffled as she gave a small smile.

"What is it that you wish for, Snaveling, that is 'stronger'?" She replied lightly.