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Ciro is sent an invitation to join the Dwarves and Penn
Ibun chuckled at the young woman’s declaration. ‘Come on Master Dwarves I think I am up on you!’ He topped off her mug and shook his head. ‘Nay, Miss! Fror and I have been at it steadily since breakfast this day. You’ve many more you’ll need to down before you’re even caught up to us!’ He took long pull at his own cup to emphasize his point.
‘Do you know that fellow that’s just come in?’ he asked, noting her gaze toward the man with the blue eyes. ‘Looks a little road worn, I think. Perhaps we should invite him over. Be interesting to hear what brings him to Bywater. What do you say?’
One of the Hobbit servers was hailed with instructions to ask the ‘man over there’ if he’d like to join them at their table. ‘And bring us back a basket of bread and cheese if you will,’ he asked. ‘And maybe a plate of sliced ham with that fine Dragon mustard. We'll be needing something to sop us all this good ale in our bellies!’
Ibun fetched out his pouch of pipe weed and fished about in one of his vests inner pockets. ‘Here, Penn,’ he said, drawing out a smoke stained clay pipe. ‘Here’s an extra one I have, if you don’t mind it being well used. Not the prettiest one to look at, but it draws well.’ He offered the pouch and pipe to her.
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