Ferethor stepped into the Green Dragon inn. Glad of warmth, he took off his weatherstained green cloak and made for a chair by the glowing fire.
"Aman!" He called, as he stretched himself and leaned back. "A pint of beer for me, please." In answer to a surprised look, he said, "No, I'm not on guard duty today."
After a while, order came in. "For Illuvatar's sake, I may just settle here!" Ferethor said. "Best barley beer north of Gonder!" He drank deeply, hoping to drown his grief in the stupor of beer.
It was just his way - to betray nothing of grief and sorrow that he was feeling. Only few of his truest friends could divine what his real mood was.
<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:07 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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