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Rochadan
"About me?" Rochadan caught the sparkle of mirth in Kellan's eyes and smiled in spite of himself. “There’s really not much to tell,” he said pleasantly, leaning on one rung of the ladder. “I used to be a long-distance messenger, delivering mail and dispatches from Esgaroth to wherever they needed to go. Now I take care of the horses here at the Vineyard. But, as far as your keeping me from my work, please don’t worry yourself. We haven’t many guests right now, so there really isn’t that much to do... other than fix this ladder.” He cast a dubious glance up at the broken rung.
“Thank you,” Kellan answered with a smile of her own. “But I hope you will tell me if that changes and you do find yourself with more pressing things to do. As I said, I would enjoy talking a bit, but am fine with parting as well.” She paused. “As far as your story goes,” she added after a few seconds of comfortable silence had passed. “I’m sure there must be more to it than that!”
“Well, yes.” Rochadan nodded. “There always is more to a story than one initially tells, isn’t there? Actually, for the moment, I am more interested in hearing the rest of your story than gabbing on about myself. I’m sure there is more to it, as well, than what you have told so far. When you say you come from a tribe in the Far South, would I be correct in guessing that you come from Far Harad? What brings you this far north? That’s a very long journey, especially to be made on foot and all alone but for the company of your dog.”
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