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Sarin
Sarin rode along the wide grasslands of the Shire, as he puffed his pipe. His fiery beard shone in the sunlight. His brown eyes sat like pebbles under his heavy bushy eyebrows. His pony’s magnificently groomed hair seemed to glow. He had been traveling for quite some time now and it seemed as though he would never get to this Inn he was told about. He was tired and hungry. Perhaps it’s over this hill, he thought. When he had almost completely given up on this Inn he finally saw it. The Green Dragon Inn. Finally, I get to drink! His eyes began to water but he quickly whisked them away and tied up his pony.
As he strode into the Inn he took little time ordering his meal and drink. He went to the corner of the Inn just as quickly. His meal or, (as it might have looked to others) his small feast, was more than he could have asked for and he kicked up his shoes and struck up his pipe. He began to think just way he had come this way and not just going straight to the mountains. He wanted the adventures everyone else spoke of but he began to think how foolish it really would have been to go rushing up on those foul creatures by himself. Tomorrow is yet another day, perhaps something will find me if I stay here. After he finished his pipe he decided to get some sleep. He would talk to these fine folk later.
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