Stitches places his foot into the doorway of the Prancing Pony, closing the door behind him after he takes the step from being out to being in. He looks around, at this time of day it’s empty. Waywardly his ill kept fingernails scratch at his stubble, and he looks at the ground almost religiously.
Notice: With the Laurelin server shutting down, our website will soon reflect the Meriadoc name. You can still use the usual URL, or visit us at https://meriadocarchives.org/
nostalgia
