Eorling Mead Hall - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Firefoot · 02-23-2006, 04:10 PM

An awkward silence followed Léof’s words. “Well, you could be right. He does know our language well enough and rode here upon a horse. But . . . still, he's a Dunlending. I still don't trust him,” responded Gárwine after a bit. His words and tone were both neutral enough that Léof could not quite be sure whether Gárwine really did agree with him or whether he was only saying it to not explicitly disagree with him. Since he did not know the intent of the words, he was having difficulty formulating some kind of response, and once again silence settled over the table.

Fortunately, Léof happened to look up and see out the window a pair of riders stop their horses in the courtyard. He excused himself from the table, relieved at being saved from continuing this conversation. But as he stood up, he noticed a strange thing: the maid he had fleetingly noticed before was slipping outside, and something about the way she moved reminded him strongly of his sister when she was trying to hide that something was wrong. He frowned. She had definitely been disturbed, and he could not help but wonder about it. He could do nothing about it – at least not now. He had to attend to these people in the courtyard and their horses.

He hurried outside, trying to put the maid from his mind. He looked the travelers over curiously. The dark-haired young woman and a rather old man – her grandfather or some other relative? Simply a friend, an escort? – did not look like Rohirrim. She certainly looked wealthy, noble, if her appearance indicated anything. He was painfully aware of his own disheveled appearance.

“Welcome to the Mead Hall,” he said, smiling. “My name is Léof – Léofric – and I am the ostler here.” How wonderful those words sounded! “I can take your horses, and if you have any questions, I can try to answer them.”

02-23-2006, 04:10 PM	#11
Firefoot Illusionary Holbytla Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 7,547	An awkward silence followed Léof’s words. “Well, you could be right. He does know our language well enough and rode here upon a horse. But . . . still, he's a Dunlending. I still don't trust him,” responded Gárwine after a bit. His words and tone were both neutral enough that Léof could not quite be sure whether Gárwine really did agree with him or whether he was only saying it to not explicitly disagree with him. Since he did not know the intent of the words, he was having difficulty formulating some kind of response, and once again silence settled over the table. Fortunately, Léof happened to look up and see out the window a pair of riders stop their horses in the courtyard. He excused himself from the table, relieved at being saved from continuing this conversation. But as he stood up, he noticed a strange thing: the maid he had fleetingly noticed before was slipping outside, and something about the way she moved reminded him strongly of his sister when she was trying to hide that something was wrong. He frowned. She had definitely been disturbed, and he could not help but wonder about it. He could do nothing about it – at least not now. He had to attend to these people in the courtyard and their horses. He hurried outside, trying to put the maid from his mind. He looked the travelers over curiously. The dark-haired young woman and a rather old man – her grandfather or some other relative? Simply a friend, an escort? – did not look like Rohirrim. She certainly looked wealthy, noble, if her appearance indicated anything. He was painfully aware of his own disheveled appearance. “Welcome to the Mead Hall,” he said, smiling. “My name is Léof – Léofric – and I am the ostler here.” How wonderful those words sounded! “I can take your horses, and if you have any questions, I can try to answer them.”