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Having looked back on his days events, Faeradel took out a relatively old looking parchment. To a stranger it was barely recognisable, as it was a map of Eriador, drawn and annotated completely by Faeradel. Marked with a curious symbol was little known village, to the West banks of the Gulf of Lhûn. Also marked with this symbol was Rivendell. Faeradel began plotting the route which he planned to embark on come sunrise. His expedition hadn't been at all challenging as of yet, other than losing his horse there had been no trouble. Faeradel decided the next stop in his journey would be Bree, where he could set about finding a new horse. After all, he was already three days behind schedule.
Faeradel returned the parchment to his backpack, and looked around the bar at some of the locals. He was generaly a sociable person, so he decided it was time for a drink. He got up from the table leaving his backpack by his chair, and approached the bar. stood behind the counter, smiling graciously was a respectable looking lady, who Faeradel assumed was the landlord.
"Good evening ma'am, are you still serving dinner?" Asked Faeradel, politely as possible.
"It's been a long day, and my horse ran off with what little food I had left still tied on his back." said faeradel, trying to initiate a conversation. As if the bar maid wasn't already rushed off her feet.
"One moment please, I'll take your order as soon as I've dealt with this poor hobbit." She replied solemnly.
"Of course." Said Faeradel, expecting such a response. He glanced around the room, when the hobbit he'd noticed earlier caught his eye again. The gash in the poor chaps foot was secreting blood, and soaking the handkerchief wrapped around it. Faeradel almost walked over to him, but thought it better to wait and order his drink and meal first. Afterall, he didn't want to appear impatient or rude to the bar maid.
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