Hobbit

OOC - Author's Note:

The following will collect a number of reflections or 'journal' (diary)-type entries by Lonoric, Archivist Third-Class, as he ventures eastward from the Shire out into the big world beyond. So far it has 4 entries, but will be updated periodically. Where other characters are mentioned, they are done so with their author's permission.

Entries so far:

Raffles entered the main bar area of the pony that morning in good spirits...

He was well rested, well fed and hopeful for the day ahead. 

Barliman had tipped him off that Leecher Cartwell, in Combe, might be interested in some of his finds from the marshes... the thought of a positive result from that particular debacle would have been enough to lift his mood by itself ... but at breakfast Aggie had handed him an envelope, the contents of which were a few silver coins and a rather lengthy note of apology from Eldo Swatmidge.

Barliman Butterburr murmured a suitably non-committal response, with the practised ease of someone used to listening in to at least three conversations at once, whilst tending bar, and feigning interest in yet another would be adventurers tales. His eyes and ears taking in just enough information to stay abreast of the various conversations, shifting his focus to where it was most needed... or the juiciest information could be gleaned.

Raffles didn't notice, or if he did, he wasn't offended, and carried on

'Ate all my sausages she did'

Raffles stumped through the staddle gate and down into Bree, his brow furrowed, carrying the general demeanour of a hobbit that has not only missed lunch and afternoon tea, but one who had now found out that his dinner has been burnt as well.

He hadn’t imagined the life of an adventurer would be quite like this when he set out from Stock on the long walk to Bree.