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"Oof! My, but that's heavy!" Robin staggered out of the Inn, burdened with a stack of chairs. It seemed that a few of the tables in the yard still lacked proper seating arrangements. Atop the seats was a precariously balanced tray of flowers in glass vases. He carefully set the chairs on the ground, transferred the flowers to an empty spot on a nearby table, and scurried about, putting the chairs in their proper places. Then came the flowers, one vase to each of the small tables, two each of the larger ones. Work finished, he went back inside to rest.
Entering the Inn, Robin heard several queries about the upcoming festivities. What's this party for, if I may be so bold as to inquire? Any special occasion going on around here, or something of the like? He walked up to the two strangers and bowed. "Robin Sandheaver, at your service. We're celebrating the generosity of Fordogrim's gift of casks of ale in his mug-stacking contest." Robin was too modest to mention his own role in the challenge. "I hope you will be joining us." He smiled. Turning to the bespectacled member of the pair, he said, "That's a lovely hat."
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