[samsmyhero]

Denegal grimaced slightly as he limped forward towards the inn. He was glad to finally be reaching it; but, the lack of coin in his purse foretold a meager break from his involuntary fasting.

He'd had nothing to eat since yesterday morn, and all that had consisted of was a few handfuls of watercress found in a little, tumbling stream wandering down out of the hills to the east. He'd set a snare at eventide, when he'd ended his day's journey. The blisters, cuts and bruises on his left foot had been just too painful to proceed further, even though he knew the village was very close. He had hoped to catch a rabbit or two as the dusk fell. But the little animals weren't cooperating. Seeing them flitting by in the misty, semi-darkness, his stomach had rumbled loudly. The sky had been threatening rain. As he had wrapped himself in his cloak, finally abandoning all hope of roast rabbit for supper, he felt sure he would wake in a downpour.

The morning had broken fair and sunny though, and the young soldier had been surprised that he had slept so soundly. All these weeks in the open had apparently desensitized him to the sharp jab of rock and root. As he hobbled down the road, he took hope in the words of the traveller he had walked with a ways several days ago. "Steer for The Green Dragon, and ye can't go wrong, m'lad! The Green Dragon - that's where ye need to make for. They're a friendly lot there, they are! A warm, clean bed and good, solid food. That's where most decent folk go to stay when we're passing through these parts. Tis run by a human gal, I'm told, this last little while. But still, I'm sure they'll do right by ye!"

The word "friendly" had struck a positive chord in Denegal's heart. When was the last time he had been in the company of true friends? With his supply of money dwindling, he hoped such an inn might have need of some hard labor that he could offer in exchange for a few days of room and board. For he knew he could not travel on much further until he rested and gave his foot time to heal. The reference to the inn being run by a human was somewhat puzzling; the Gondorian wondered who or what else might be found directing such an establishment. Ah well, his months on the road had brought him into contact with some very . . . queer individuals. Trying not to let his spirits falter, he had slogged on, slowly, wondering if he would outrun the clouds that were starting to gather to the west.

By breakfast, he had just made it to the little town. Now, as he approached the inn yard, he saw the usual early morning bustle of activity at such a place. A cartload of children had just offloaded its passengers. But, upon closer inspection, Denegal realized that these "children" were in fact little people, of an age, or older, than himself, but standing just a little over half his height! Well, well! So perhaps this had something to do with his erstwhile companion's strange remark. That would also explain the number of "children" he had seen in passing on his way to the town. He had not given them much thought, nor looked very closely at them, having been preoccupied by his stomach and his foot. But, upon reflection, there had seemed to be a goodly number of them about.

Denegal hobbled on and entered the inn. He found himself in a large common room, populated by a good number of people scattered amongst the various tables. The smell of fried eggs and ham wafted from the kitchen and set his mouth to watering. Feeling gingerly of the small leather purse that hung now about his neck, its weight being of no account, he swallowed hard and looked about for a server. He felt, rather than saw, the looks of several of the rooms' occupants staring at him. It must have been a rare sight - a soldier with no left boot!