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Dárin disliked these elves more and more. One indeed appeared to be holding back a laugh. Still they protested that he was eavesdropping, and still they talked of a mysterious mission. But it was hard to get through Dárin's iron wall of prejudice and suspicion without some hard truth.
Luckily, at this moment of tension, another person burst into the room. She was northerner, by the looks of her, and had been travelling a long way, just like all of them. The Arnorian said, "You're here about... did you get the letter too?"
Relief washed over Dárin like a wave. If they had got a letter as well, they must be the others that were contacted. It all said so in his letter. Shakingly, he produced the letter in question from his backpack, sent to the Dwarves of the Iron Hills. The only difference was that his didn't contain instructions to go to the Inn in Rohan. Thank goodness for this coincidence then.
"Well," said Dárin. "If you are really the other contestants of the Race, I suppose I should admit I was on my way to Eriador to find Thin-Gloomy myself. If I aspire to that goal, I guess I shall need a few more people to help -"
"And a few more centimetres!" laughed the blonde one. Dárin sighed. Elves. "So I'll come with you, if you don't mind. When shall the expedition start?"
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