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Old 11-20-2002, 12:39 AM   #6
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 3,310
Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.Mithadan is a guest at the Prancing Pony.
Sting

A tall Man entered the Inn dressed in black and wearing a sword sheathed on his belt. His hair was black as a moonless night but shot through with silver like the stars. At his throat was a shell hung on a fine chain.

He waved to Ransom and Susan who were well known to him. To Eledrim (Melichus -- I'm from Boston myself at least originally) and Dorathain he offered a hearty "well met" (fine tale Dorathain -- and welcome to the Barrow Downs; you've chosen an ambitious place to begin your career here).

He sat at the bar, where his features were lit by a flickering candle. The barkeep approached, wiping a mug on his clean white apron. "What shall you be having today, Mithadan?" he asked.

"Tequila Sauza, white and straight my good Rimbaud," he answered. Straightaway a silence fell over the room.

"Woman trouble," intoned Rimbaud as he pored a full three fingers into a glass for his friend. Mithadan drained half in a single gulp and signaled for more.

"You try wedding an Elf," he complained as he nursed the remainder of his drink. "Yes, she's fair enough, but all she speaks of is adventures and her 7000 years of life before she met me. See these white hairs?" Rimbaud shook his head in polite denial. "When I met her I had not a one! And I'm too young to have any!" Susan snickered at this and received a withering glare in return.

Mithadan sipped at his second glass and continued. "She wants to visit Lindon. Lindon! Where's the profit in that? Lindon is self-sufficient. It exports nothing and imports nothing. I'll be lucky if I can book half my cabins either way. Lindon!"

Rimbaud prudently excused himself and began carefully examining a tray of glasses for flaws as if it were the most important task in the world...
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Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
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