[Airerûthiel]

She was astounded to see the inn emptying of patrons in such amounts. Gwigwyn's hooves clicked on the cobbled courtyard as she guided him to the nearby stables. Her dismount was as soft and graceful as a cat, betraying her for the lady she was. She stabled the bay stallion and pulled the hood of her black cloak over her head. "Welcome home," she whispered to herself as she pushed open the door of the inn.

The few that remained in the inn turned in surprise to see a figure clad in the garb of a male warrior crossing the floor. She put some silver down on the bar and threw back her hood. A sheet of wavy dark blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and her turquoise eyes were level with the innkeeper's as she made her order. "A pint of ale, please," she said in a calm, even voice.

"Anything else?" asked Bethberry. She was intrigued by this war-like maiden who bore such an ancient-looking sword about her waist. The girl had a history, it was clear, but what exactly she could not tell. "A meal, perhaps? Or maybe a room?"

The young woman nodded. "Yes, that would be good. I have been travelling in the wilds of Rohan and Gondor for some time, and I am weary of journeying and sleeping outside." She opened a dark brown suede money pouch that she wore on her belt and emptied most of its contents onto the desk. Bethberry swept out the necessary coins and handed the change back to the maid.

The shield-maiden pocketed the change and then sat sipping her drink. With a bit of luck, she would not have to stay in here too long before another adventure walked through the door for her.