[Bêthberry]

It was a chilly and grey day, the sky full of scudding clouds that looked blue with cold. The ground was crisp and frozen, even now, in mid-afternoon. Edoras was settling into an early winter.

The White Horse Inn creaked and groaned as its timbers rocked to the wind and the shutters bumbled up against the window frames. Mid-afternoon was always quiet at the Inn, for its patrons and guests were usually all busy completing their daily chores and tasks, but today especially people seemed to have chosen to stay indoors and not risk the inclement weather. For now the Horse was empty save for the staff.

Both fireplaces were lit, casting wide heat into the Great Hall and the smaller room, the word hoard. Candles and lanterns were not yet lit, although the darkening sky suggested they soon would be. Instead of summer flowers, the scent of pine and cedar boughs wafted through the main floor, followed by the rich aromas of stews and fresh breads in the kitchen. The only colour in the assorted bouquets came from the brilliant red stalks of sumach flowers and the intense red of hyerpicum and holly berries and rosehips.

The Innkeeper walked down the main stairwell into the main hall, having checked that all rooms were cleaned and had fires prepared should guests wish a warm room that night. She stopped by her desk near the huge oak front doors, checked her quill pens and sharpened some. She peeked quickly into the kitchen, but wished not to disturb the staff, so she did not stay to talk. Wrapping her old somewhat worn brown shawl around her shoulders, she picked up a book and carried it to the book hoard, where she curled up in a chair by the fire.

Would she nod off as the warmth spread through her bones or would she stay alert as the sounds of patrons soon came to be heard? Time would tell...