[Alaksoron]

Thirteen tall, silver haired men on equally silvery stallions slowly trotted down the main road. A faint breeze suddenly blew from the West, rippling their long white cloaks. The faint light of the waning moon glinted on the polished steel of their light mail coats.

The eerie howl of a lone wolf broke the relative quiet of the evening. A moment later another answered. Then another. The first wolf howled again. Soon several wolves howled in answer. Somewhere a whole pack was hunting together.

Riding at the head and obviously the leader, his hair hanging nearly to his waist, Korik smiled gleefully. In a state of euphoria, he was tempted to lean back his head, point his nose to the moon, and howl himself. Smiling, he reined in before the Green Dragon. The others did so also.

Korik dismounted and waited for his companions to follow. He handed the hobbit stableboy a bulging bag the size of his head. The already dazed lad nearly fainted when he opened it to discover it filled with gold coins.

Unable to control himself, Korik broke into a racous laughter. Composing himself, he bade the lad take excellent care of his horses, there was more where that came from. Korik managed to suppress a chuckle as he watched the short hobbit struggle with the bags weight as well as the horses reins.

Still in his good mood, he led his men inside. They all sat around one large round oaken table, drinking ales and telling jokes with each other. They were a jolly, good-natured lot, laughing, singing, and slapping each other heartily on the back.

For soldiers, they were a pleasant group. They talked loud,but not rough or boisterous. Their language and jokes were clean. They paid well, and the leader seemed to know Mistress Aman. They were cordial to the servers, but not leering.

Presently, Korik looked over to the attractive red-headed woman seated across from the delirious dwarf. "Hey-ho, lass! Buy you a drink? He pulled up a chair, hoping she would accept. He smiled a friendly smile.