The mighty warhorse scattered several unlucky shoppers at the Bree Market in all directions as it galloped through the Southern Gate and made a beeline for the stables of the Prancing Pony.
As it reached the stairway leading up to the Inn, the warhourse's rider slid out of the saddle without breaking her gallop and gazed around the courtyard. She was an elven maid dressed in heavy bronze plate armor, save for her head which was covered by a red kerchief tied around her short black hair, a massive greatsword worn across her back. The horse seemed to have expected no less from it's mistress, and after she had alighted quietly trotted into the stable to wait for her.
With a curt nod, the elleth bounded up the stairs two at a time and threw the Pony's heavy door open, nearly smashing poor Nob to the ground with the force of it.
The Banshee strode into the main room of the Pony as if she not only owned it, but had sold it at a profit and then stolen it back again. Without pausing she walked right up the bar and called to old Barliman.
"Hail my obese friend...three tankards of your finest, all in a row...and a round on me for anyone who will drink to the blue pennants of Dol Amroth, glinting in the sun!"
Her voice carried through out the bar as she turned to survey the crowd. All menfolk it would seem...a warrior of some kind, a dark clad huntress, a solidly built fellow with a massive beard, a high born matron near the fire and a dark haired woman closest to the bar, dressed in a short purple jacket. "One of these must know her", she thought to herself.
Xandilif threw a handful of silver coins onto the bar and the three tankards she requested were set down by a clearly annoyed Barliman. She lifted the first, saluted the room, and drained it....then took up the second.
She glared around the bar, the second tankard held high. Her voice this time was even a bit louder then her first pronouncment. "Will none of you flatlanders drink to the glory of Dol Amroth?!"
She drained the second tankard without waiting for a response and reached for the third as the high born woman sniffed the air, took her tea and withdrew further from the bar, leaving the short haired woman all alone and more than a little isolated.
The woman in purple cleared her throat and asked the innkeeper for a small tankard of ale, presenting him a few of the ale soaked coins Xandilif had thrown.
The elven woman crowed in triumph. "There you are, kitten...drink to the glory of Gondor's finest. HAIL!"...and a salute to the room and down went the third tankard, following the first two.
The young woman looked a bit ill and did her best. "'err...aye...to Dull Amfroth!"
Xandilif threw her head back and howled with laughter, and would have slapped the girl hard on the back if she hadn't just a bit too far out of range...lucky kitten. "HA...close enough little one!"
The man with the heavy beard grunted but the elf didn't seem to notice. "Now then," she asked the room, "Where by Saruman's short hairs is she?"
The room stared at the elven champion, the only sound that of the young woman slurping, trying to finish her ale as quickly as possible and get away from the woman.
It was too late as the Banshee rounded on her again. "You, kitten...I seek a woman, about my size, but looking as if she is just a trifle ill...Bow on her back and a scold in her heart. Goes by The Monk. Seen her?"
The woman backed away and bumped into the barrels near the bar in terror. "AH HA!!" exclaimed the elf, "By that I can tell you have..."
The young woman stammered, "M-monk?? err no?"
Xandilif continued like an unrelenting storm..."Also called Rian....or Xanderian...or a massive pain in my neck since she came out mewling and ruining my damn life."
The girl tried a feeble gambit to escape. "Maybe this err, Monk lass is in the back?" she asked, desperately hoping for enough room to make a break for the door. When the elf didn't move she tried to continue. "AHh err, she sounds lovely, I mean, horrible, like..maybe...err, they might know!'" She nodded towards the threesome by the column and Xandilif nodded and moved back into the center of the room.
The huntress murmured "Oh, have mercy, here she comes..."
Xandilif looked at the huntress, the warrior and the bearded man, still talking. "Well..she's been seen here...dresses in green, thinks she's a shrubbery of some kind. Have ya seen her?"
The woman in purple looked into her tankard as if considering if the ale was alright as the elf looked up at the beared man. "What of you, furry..seen her?"
The warrior asked "She an elf lass like you?" as the huntress blurted out a short laugh, staring at the odd elf even more closely now, her turquoise eyes wide and unabashedly curious asking "What? A shrubbery?"
The elf turned to the warrior. "Like me? Nay...she is weak, sickly, crying sort of creature...good in a fight, as long as nothing serious need be done, if ya catch my meaning Son of Numenor."
The man blinked in confusion..."Son of the what?"
The bearded man met the elf's gaze. "No I have not seen her " he answered coldly, "And do not call me 'furry'."
Xandilif smiled mockingly..."Prefer fuzzy?
The room froze in tension as the moment seemed to spool out, then Xandilif slapped the bearded man hard on the shoulder with a loud barking laugh."HA! There there friend, I am just having a bit of a lark on ya...don't go doing nothing smelly"
The elf spun to the dark clad woman. "What of you huntress...you look her speed, if a bit rough?"
The huntress glanced down at herself. "Rough, am I? I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose. And no, I've not seen any elvish...shrubs...lately..." She couldn't quite withhold a snicker. The elf didn't seem to notice, or more likely didn't care.
The bearded man seemed to catch up with the fast moving conversation all the sudden, hands closing into fists. "Do not call me that, either." he grumbled.
The huntress calmed him, "Easy now, big fella." but Xandilif was already opening the door back into the street before turning back on the room.
"Bah...she is hiding no doubt...weeping into her teacup...If ya see her tell her that SilverWand's Slut has arrived and I am not in the mood to wait...I bring news and a dozen Angmarim heads, ripe for the pickling." She gestured towards the remaining scattered coins. "Drink on what's left at the bar little ones..I'll be back soon enough." and with that she was gone, leaving the room in silence, staring at her wake.
The huntress was the first to speak, her mouth hanging open. "What...on earth..."
