It was late afternoon in the hunting lodge of Bree and men were gathering for their evening meals and drinks, company, news and tales to share between them.
"The fish have come early" One of the older men of the lodge commented as he laid back in his chair, a wooden pipe hung by the corner of his dry lips and a thin line of smoke rising up from the rounded, cracked bell.
"Aye" Another one in his company replied with a slow nod "The nets should be mended so we can make our way north and set it out."
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Hunting Lodge
