What have you brought me this time young ones? Flowers? Do you think they will put me in the mood to tell you about the man that allowed Flara to love? Mayhap they will, I did promise to tell you more did I not? So it is he that you want to know about this time? Are you certain? Flowery stuff isn't the typical stories I tell after all, so forgive me if I skip over any parts you wish to hear more of.
Very well, it was a night like any other night and Falra sat on the barrel near the fire as she so oft did. Why did she chose that spot to sit? Oh well, it gave her a vantage point to watch and in a way, listen, to what those in the main room said. You see, she could read lips with ease, thus taught to her by her slavers. Out of habit she liked to be in the know, the more she learned the happier she was. This very gift had saved her life a time or two and she was certain it would again, but this night, this night the Prancing Pony was too full of smoke and boredom, so she hopped off her barrel and moved to gather herself a drink. Those days she was more partial to hot spiced cider and this is what she went to get. On her way she met a tall fellow that pulled her eyes off all the rest around her, so handsome he was. What she could see under his hood were the grey/blue eyes that beheld her in place.
He greeted her, looking her over, taking note of the well mended dress she wore, as well as her size and stature. He must have deemed she was starving for he slipped her several coin and then soon departed. Thinking little of his kind deed, she instead took the coin to one of the women in the slums of Bree. You see, even though Falra had little, she had more than that woman did, and fewer mouths to feed. She didn't feel right keeping the sum the man gave her, it could go to good use by buying meat and vegetables for the woman and her three young children.
Thus was how Falra lived most days. Making enough to pay her rent and buy fresh produce. The rest she sorted out between those that wished for help and not just another drink.
Thinking only slightly about the man's kindness Falra picked that night to go to her favorite spot to bath. It was quiet and little traveled. Few went there and she knew she wouldn't have to worry about being spied on, or worse. She knew her limitations of hearing made it difficult to protect herself when in the wild, so she chose a small island to bath, it had but one way onto the island and she'd be able to spot someone before they spotted her... Or so she thought.
After her bath in the cool waters, she did as she always did, well as most of us do that don't have the luxury of bathing within doors, she built herself a fire to get warm by. Hanging wet clothes on a branch above the low flames to dry out her freshly washed clothes, it was then that she smelled something that didn't fit in the serene setting. I am often told when one of your senses goes, others compensate for it, well that was true for Falraenn, her sense of smell was very acute and it was that part of her that kicked in.
She had smelled the sharpness of blood, with the putrid smell of something else. It was not rotting flesh, but something close. Slipping nothing but a loose fitting cotton top on she followed the smell, dagger in hand. She moved as quietly as she could but she was no match for her prey for he heard her creep up the bank of an even smaller island attached to the one she was on. As she snuck around a bush she came face to... well not quite his face, as the man stood a yard off in nothing but what the gods gave him. Instead of donning something to cover himself he instead took up arms as he heard the water drip from her body as she took to a bit of water in order to follow the smell. Faces red and enemy now known, she simply waved him to follow as she returned to her fire.
That night the two sat and spoke. He learned that she could hear no sound as well as a bit of her flight from Angmar, or how she called it, the land where rock and sand melt. Nothing too involved, not till a later night. That night though she learned of the hole in the man's chest and the evil that seeped from it. But that is another story, mine to not fully tell. Mayhap he will offer me permission to tell of them, mayhap not? For now, it is a time to rest. Good night young ones, off you go.
