The White Horse Inn, Act III

[littlemanpoet]

"'Tis time I got these sodden legs into a bed. I think that they will not prop me up long enough to find my rooms."

As if to prove himself right, Eodwine rose from his stool and immediately slid to the floor, bumping his ale cup on the counter, its contents sloshing out and giving him a much needed shower, albeit of a too sticky liquid for proper cleansing.

"Ah me, maybe I should just sleep here."

"Nonsense," Korik said. "Umwë, please give me a hand with Master Eodwine."

"I bid you all a good night, my friends, and may the morrow find you in fine fettle and good spirits under a shining sun."

Korik and Umwë each took Eodwine by an arm, and hobbled him to his rooms. When they came back Korik said that the poor man was snoring between them before they laid him down.