Gorlen was standing quietly and enjoying his ale that evening, leaning back against the counter. There was a few patrons in the Prancing Pony, but not overly crowded. Barliman was smearing the pockmarked wood behind him with an old and ales-stained brown rag. There wasn't much going on that week; other than the casual conversation, getting drunk, and passing out. The trip to the Shire was interesting, for a change, he grinned silently as he relaxed back to stare over the room.
Eventually Barliman stopped and shook his head. "Saw you were drunk as a bastard's son the other night. If it wasn't for da lass helping ya up there... " he drifted off, laying sufficient claim to what he meant.
Another patron came in. Gorlen nodded a quick greeting and a smile as he waited. Distracting the barman was a pretty lass, but a with peculiar protruding adam's apple. Gorlen didn't know her name, but has seen her around. Strange lass, is all he could say. Intriguing.
"All I'm saying is, lad, you gotta watch yer yerself out'a 'er. Could have ended bad; you lying in a gutter some'er. Sure way getting yer mug bloodied, lad. Is all I'm saying" Barliman nagged as he returned to his diligent task of smearing the table further.
He's been thinking about that disastrous evening; and about many of things. You get to do that with a lot of time. Evangelline, the way in which she keeps pushing him away. Their unborn child. The coins he lost in Lake Town, in that room, and how to make it back. The recent trip to the Shire, about that lass, how he promised to help her train. Looking forward to that. She was good company, someone to share a laugh and drink with, perhaps, he hoped. Pip, her name was, he remembered as he took a sip of his mead.A name he won’t soon forget.
Taala graciously paid the woman a silver for taking him up to the room. Supposedly he did as well, he snorts into the mug. It wasn't that long ago, and as Barliman said, he was as drunk as a bastard's son. In the room however, none of which he remembered, though; he was surprised she didn't rob him cripple. A few coins is fine, he thought, he'll forgive her that.
It was a pleasant evening the man by the bar thought as he drank his ale, talking to the barman. A lot of worries. But a rather fine evening, so far.
"I know. And stopped yer pester'n" Gorlen snapped back. "I'll be fine" he hoped as he took another drink.
