Sitting atop her bed in the Warhorse Inn, Sarnai turned a wooden object in her hands. It was a crude, if artistically made wooden sculpture of a wagon. She held it up to her window, allowing the late-afternoon light streaming through the glass to illuminate its surface so that she could see it more clearly. After a few moments of adjusting the angle at which she held the object and squinting to see more clearly, Sarnai gently laid it down on the bedspread. The workmanship suggested someone young, old enough to carve such an object but without much skill despite a youthful sort of creativity. She knew it could not have been made by one of her own kin, but it was easy enough to guess the people who could have had access to such materials and techniques, she had seen enough wood carvings in her childhood. Now to remember the Sindarin term... ah, Balchoth. Considering the wide range of peoples it could be used to describe, even orcs, it was not the most helpful descriptor in her eyes, but one that stuck nonetheless. Lifting a sheet of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink from atop the bookcase, she began to write, preparing a report for the Old Woman.
This object I would think to be the work of someone rather young, with many ideas but less skill. While the Wainriders are known for their use of wagons, they are a people with many horses, whereas the Balchoth have fewer, and their use of wains is even more vital for it. Such things are of great meaning to many Easterlings, although I should add that the work shows more signs pointing to Balchoth origin. The object may even have to do with the star pattern that we in the East often call the Wain, for that is what it seems to us.
Carefully replacing the ink, quill, and parchmeent on the bookcase, Sarnai reached under her bed. It was still there. The report would have days to wait until it was needed, and after so many sleepless nights, the prospect of a dreamless rest called irresistibly.
Within moments, Sarnai was asleep.
