[Bêthberry]

Luckily, the rain ran off the well-trodden earth alleyways and roadway, into the large stone channel which ran through Edoras. No sucking sound of squishy mud accompanied each plodding step that the old rag lady made. She wound her way amidst the wooden beams and wattled buildings. Spring had brought brisk trade in the rag business and Ruthven had had much to do since her friend Bethberry had taken leave of the mountain city. Yet on a day such as today, with its rain inhibiting large amounts of out of door labour, it was high time Ruthven stopped by the old Mead Hall to see what progress or lack thereof Eodwine had made in his constructions. Besides, she hadn't had a good laugh with Falco for over a week--they had at first often seen each other around the town, but Eodwine was keeping him working so hard that Ruthven feared the poor halfling might be at risk of losing weight.

And so, with her cloak wrapped around her and her hood pulled well forward, the old woman plodded her way into the tenthall, spying Eodwine asleep--or at least napping.

"Tut! March Warden or Reeve or what high faluting name you be calling yourself these days, you have picked up some halfling habbits to be asleep so early in the morn. Did you overeat at breakfast perhaps?" With a hearty shake of her head, her hood fell back and rivulets of water drops splattered over the man, who came to somewhat indignantly.