The Golden Perch Inn

[Folwren]

“No! No, she left without a trace. None of us saw her go, and none of us have seen her since. Sure, lots of people talked about it – it was the biggest thing that had happened here since the ruffians were running all over the place – but no one saw a thing. It’s like she vanished,” he snapped his fingers, “into thin air.”

He tilted his head sideways. “Of course, she didn’t, really. There’s too much of her to vanish into thin air. But it’s sure as certain that she isn’t here anymore, and she wasn’t seen after that morning.

“So, if you haven’t been in the Shire, do you think your ranger friend, The Ghostly Wandere, has seen aught of her?”

[xMellrynxMaidenx]

She gazed in the direction of the Inn's door for a moment, before turning to look at the innkeeper once more.

"There are many different people Rangers encounter on their journeys, but surely if he has seen this hobbit and she was with any suspicious characters..."

Her voice trailed off for a moment, she scrubbed the side of her tired face in thought.

"We will just have to ask him when he returns inside, I suppose."

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill enters, walking very slowly. He does not seem to notice the people in the inn, and takes a seat in the nearest corner, setting down a large tome on the table. He opens it to a short way in, then pats his pockets.

He looks up, and a startled expression crosses his face, then relief. Almost silently, as if to avoid disturbing some sleeping beast, he says "Would anybody happen to have something to write with?"

[Flame of Udûn]

Arandon sat for some time remembering the pains of his past. He soon became aware of a person moving towards the in and saw a man carrying a large book, Arandon was intrigued by this since he appeared to have travelled much and yet bore no weapon, a curious thing for a traveller especially as the power of the enemy grows in the east.
Arandon walked back to the inn following the traveller silently, watching him closely then he waited a few moments after the man entered bofore going in again himself. He walked up to the bar again casting a quick glance at the man who had so riled him earlier. then he focused his attention upon the hobbit and made another apology for his earlier behaivior, 'Please once again accept my appologies master hobbit, I should have held my temper better yet the mood has past thankfully and I should hope that nought more will rile me for I do not wish to cause any trouble here.'

[piosenniel]

Penny

Penny’s eyes were big as saucers at the goings-on in the common room. She watched as the Big Folk drew apart from each other – one to a table by the fire, one to step outside, the last keeping put at the bar. The toast she’d spread thick with blackberry jam now lay forgotten for the moment on her plate.

Leaning forward as to be nearer the elder Hobbit, she whispered as quietly as she could. “Are there always so many of the Big Folk hereabouts?” She picked up a piece of bacon and munched on it, absent-mindedly. “And are they always so . . . so, well, cranky and out of sorts?” She waved the crisp bacon at the gaffer, drawing back a bit, her voice going back to a more normal level..

“Comes from not keeping your tummy full, my gran would say. Twists you up inside if your insides don’t have something to work on.” She nodded her head, remembering her gran had firm opinions on just about everything.

Penny looked over toward the Big Folk still remaining in the room. She took another bite of bacon and mumbled around the crumbly bits. “Personally, I think it’s those boots they wear! Can you imagine walking about with feet all smunched in and your toes all pushed together?”

From a table nearby, one in the corner, she heard a voice. Another of the Big Folk, his question hanging in the air. "Would anybody happen to have something to write with?"

Penny excused herself and drew closer to the man. “Well, ummm, sir,” she said, standing out of arms’ reach. “It’s not much, but it works fine for making lists and such.” She fished about in her skirt pocket and drew out a stick of hard charcoal, most of it wrapped in yarn, its end ground somewhat to a point. ‘Can you use it?’ She held it out tentatively.

[Bom Tombadillo]

Hamwill smiled. "Yes I can, milady. Thank you very much." With that, he returned to the book and began writing quickly, pausing every so often and staring at his work.

After a while he stopped and closed the book with a thump, looking around for the hobbit-maid who gave him the pencil. He did this vigorously for a moment, then found her and stood up, seeming uncertain. He was interrupted by the hobbit entering the room, and stopped to see what his intent might be.

[Galadriel55]

Alferad strutted to the door with a haughty air, grinning widely. He did this every time he went to the local tavern – after all, his family was relatively well off, and he never forgot to display this importance to other hobbits. He came into the Common Room, and began a greeting.

“Good day to y…” His voice faltered; the speech that he carefully planned out beforehand came to an abrupt end. His broad smile faded into a look of confusion. Every pair of eyes in the room swung to him. Al was feeling more than a little uncomfortable. The guests of the inn were not only hobbits, which shocked him. There were a few of the Big Folk. Al wasn’t used to them: he’d only seen a man once in his life, and it was long enough ago to make the impression wear off.

He cleared his throat. “Er, I mean, good day to you, sirs and ladies!” he said, recovering from his first surprise and trying to cover his confusion. The guests turned their attention to their conversations again. He looked around. In a corner, he saw a man sitting with a huge tome in his lap who was also looking around. What a queer man, he thought. Al’s curiosity got the better of his apprehension of men, so he steered himself toward the stranger, at the same time calling for a mug of beer.