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Originally Posted by Enedhilion
I feel no cheer, even though it is right here next to me...in ALL of it gloriousness...
"I have no time to chat, Outrider. They are after me. That is all I can speak for now.", I reply.
"Tis' alright. All I want to know is what is your identity and who pursues you?", the Rohirrim asks.
"I am Beriothien, of Belfalas. That is all you need to know. And I havn't a clue. A horde of minions is on my tail. I shall confront them at dawn. I know not of their location, only of their direction. They come from the northeast, travelled around the tip of Mirkwood. No time to chat...no time to chat..."
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I sit up in my in the booth, arms settling on the table, armor creaking lightly, and the chainmail clinking.
"Berethion....of Belfalas. Protector of Belfalas. I Am Caunwaithon, and I am from the very northern borders of my people, Fangorn Forest."
I pause for a while, thinking with my left hand around the mug, right stroking the beard.
"I will not let you fight this foe alone, Ranger of the North. I do not think my companions will either. I wait for Janthor, a dwarve of the Lonely Mountain, and one I have not met yet, Kilon Ith'o. If you wish it, stranger, you have my spear."
I set back down again, and talk in a more friendly tone.
"Well, Ranger, I won't presume, but I think you're like me. You don't like to fight on an empty stomach, aye? Let's get somethin' to eat. I haven't had anything but jerky in quite a while."
Then I look to my left, and see a dwarf chatting with the beautiful bartender.
"If you'll excuse me one moment, ranger, I believe this is Janthor here...."
I get up, grabbing my helm and putting it in the crook of my left elbow, coming upon the dwarf, who has his back turned to me.
"Excuse me, Master Dwarf, but would you happen to be Janthor of the Lonely Mountain?"