The sun had set only about an hour ago, as Balgolin left the Prancing Pony through the Hobbit door at the back. He had swung his rucksack casually over his back with only one strap over his left shoulder, and kept a tight grip around it with his left hand. His right was resting on his hip as he stood in front of the door, looking up in the sky and taking a deep breath of the cool and clear morning air.
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/
Into the Deep
