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Old 07-28-2006, 03:06 AM   #192
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Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: The Bird and Baby
Posts: 109
Noinkling has just left Hobbiton.
The Dwarves were unanimous in their clamor that Tollers should leave the ale. And Bávor nudged Skirvir as the server held out his hand. ‘You’ve got the pouch on you, remember. Fetch out the sixpence the lad’s asking for. Or twice the sixpence, now that we’ve gotten the extra pitcher.’

Skirvir fished the leather pouch from out his waistband and poured a number of coins into his large hand. ‘Hmmm,’ he rumbled, pushing them about on his palm. ‘Don’t seem to have any Shire pence.....buuut, as I recall, twelve pence is the same as a silver shilling. And here is one of our own shilling sort of coins.’ He placed the weighty silver coin in the Hobbit’s hand.

‘Go on, look it over. It’s good Dwarven minted silver from the forges beneath The Lonely Mountain. See here on the one side it has the hammer and anvil and on the other is Good King Durin’s crown and the seven stars.’

Bívor spoke up before the server left the table. ‘If you would, laddie, bring us some bowls of that fine smelling fish stew. And how about some more bread and a pot of honey, too?’

'Now Kár, what were you going to say?' Skirvir asked, turning his attention back to their table-guest once Tollers had gone off.
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