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The barkeep, listening to the other’s reply, acknowledged Jims’ request with a nod. The man’s brief narrative was interrupted, however, when a middle aged hobbit, staggering slightly, walked up to the bar and complimented the barkeep on the good quality of his cider. Thus interrupted, the barkeep turned to fill Jims’ order. “There you are sir. Finest light brew in the house”
The tipsy hobbit had turned his eye on the other customer. "Hey, I know you. I saw you before the way here when you were-"
The hobbit stammered to a halt, having apparently realized just in time what he had been about to say.
“Oh yer indeed. You got that right don’t ye’.” The man at the end of the bar replied nonchalantly, unoffended by the hobbit’s potential indiscretion.
Jims dropped one eyelid in the slightest of winks in response to the other young man’s nod and quiet chuckle at the funny little fellow. The hobbit was by no means the first inebriated patron of a bar that Jims had seen. But his experienced eye led him to believe this one, as with most of the Halflings, was a merry drunk and not a mean or volatile one. In fact, it was actually rare for hobbits to frequent their inn in Bree, but Jims had seen enough of them there and in the other inns in town to know that most hobbits held their ale very well indeed. This one then must either be really celebrating, or perhaps wasn’t used to drink.
Jims’ cursory examination of the hobbit broke off suddenly as a loud voice sounded at the other end of the bar. There seemed to be some altercation brewing between an irate looking dwarf and a strangely quiescent elf. The barkeep hurried over and took the matter in hand with a smooth professionalism Jims could rightly appreciate. For once, it’s not my problem, Jims thought with some satisfaction. He turned his attention back to the two on the other side of him, regarding the somewhat bedraggled state of the man’s clothes and recalling his words to the barkeep.
“You’ve been on the road a week? Where do you hale from then?” Jims asked conversationally, wondering if the ale here was good enough to bring travelers that far just for a taste. With a wry grin, he thought also that wherever the other lad was from, it couldn’t be much closer than Bree. His own travels had proceeded at about the same pace as if he had been walking. And he had not seen this other lad in or about the stable, so he assumed he was afoot himself. Jims made a mental note to talk to the barkeep first thing the situation with the dwarf was sorted in order to make sure the stabling of his own horse was acceptable. Finally, with great satisfaction, Jims took a long sip of the pale ale, savoring its flavor and congratulating himself in this early success for his errand.
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