The door was as still.
It did not shift one bit, nor did anyone come inside. Quite an unusual fact for the Prancing Pony, taking in regard it was one of the few attractions found in Bree, if not the only one. Even stranger, one would think, since it was the rush hour. The inn was filled with the humming sound of speech, resembling a beehive. At least two dozens of travellers had walked through the threshold in the past hour, but now the doorknob seemed as if it had frozen in place for eternity.
These thoughts twisted in Nilawen's mind as she was sitting at a table at the end of the main room, accompanied by her hobbit fellow, Jolbo. While her head was resting in her palm, she had been watching the entrance for at least three quarters of an hour. With an expression that gave away her boredom she glanced at her friend, who was tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. "Where is he? He should have been here by now", he said. Nilawen sighed,-"He said he would come, Jolbo. Geoack has been true to his words so long as I know him". Jolbo lit his pipe and took a puff from it, before expressing his discomfort in being obliged to wait for someone who summoned them himself in the first place. Nilawen then nodded in understanding and suggested waiting a little longer. Geoack was accustomed to showing up in the last minute from her experience after all. He leaned back on his chair unwillingly, but not disagreeing either. "He did sound as if it were important...".
The two continiued their conversation until the sound of stepping boots neared them. A man with cropped dark hair stood over them with a warm smile under his short, raven-black beard. His voice sounded clear and loud; "Hello!". Jolbo and Nilawen returned the greeting as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table . His leather backpack slided from his hand to the floor, and he started to shuffle the items inside, clearly looking for something he had tucked under all his gear"It is almost dark, Geoack", Nilawen said, "What took you so long?". The man gave the two a quick look before resuming his search, but didn't offer them an answer. Instead he proudly filled his chest with air while he pulled a scroll from his bag. Jolbo leaned towards what appeared to be a map of the Bree-lands after the bearded man unwrapped it and placed it onto the wooden surface. His hobbit eyes followed Geoack's finger, which slided from one side of the paper to the other.
Geoack's determined voice sounded again when his fingertip stopped."This is where I'm going". The Old Forest. This is what was written on the left side of the parchment, with beautiful calligraphic letters. Perhaps the maker of this map wished to make a contrast between the marvels of what hands can create and the ill nature of the specific site, thought Nilawen. "I will go there, even if I have to go alone.",he stated,"Because I have to, friends". The elf spoke this time; "Is this some kind of sport to you? Putting yourself in harm's way? You will eventually get yourself or someone else killed the way you're going." Thouroughly insulted, Geoack raised a brow at the last statement. "Then so be it."
