A winter blizzard was travelling across Arda, ferociously assaulting every village and city it crossed paths with. Today was the second day that it had taken refuge above Lómëdor, and it was hugely damaging business for all the local merchants. Those who had homes were in them, sitting at the fireside to keep warm. Unfortunately though, Lómëdor had a great homeless population. Usually the local landlords would not allow the homeless merchants and thieves into their establishments, but the volatile wind and snow would undoubtedly have killed them out on the streets, and so the landlords opened their hearts and their doors. The Wilwarin Inn was the building most effected by this. Its large main room was teeming with the lowest criminals and the dirtiest scroungers in the entire city, and naturally to the landlord’s annoyance, these people were just here to keep warm; they had no interest in buying drinks or food, though naturally a few tried to steal some.
The room was very loud and bustling with activity, but even over the hectic atmosphere, it was impossible not to hear the weather outside. The windows rattled and the entire building seemed to creak ominously in the wind. The landlord stood behind the bar trying to keep an eye out for trouble, but he too found it difficult to focus on anything but the weather. ”God help any poor soul stuck out in that hell.” was the thought that crossed the landlord’s mind as he glanced out the window. As he did so, he caught sight of a shadowy figure walk passed the window. It was difficult to see him with the snow swirling so much, but there was someone… something out there. Moments later, the door burst open and a powerful gust of wind blew in to the Inn, making the candles and log fires wave and flicker. This gust seemed unnaturally powerful even for the conditions outside. Everyone span around to see who had opened the door, all to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall and slim, and his face hidden by a thick hood that draped down over his head; the only visible part of his body was his chin and mouth, which bore a sinister smile. The hood was attached to a long flowing cloak. He walked forwards and the crowd parted to let him through. Someone closed the door for him, to prevent the cold flowing into the room any longer.
The man in the black cloak reached the bar, and stood directly opposite the landlord. He began to speak in a clear voice that seemed to echo throughout the cavernous room, even though conversation had actively resumed amongst the crowd. ”A room. Empty, and without disturbances from any of these people. I will require a meal and a drink. I have no preference… surprise me.” he finished, still hiding his face from the landlord. Though the main room was empty, there were still empty bedrooms for let upstairs. The landlord summoned over another member of staff to show the visitor to a room. He would usually have charged him upon arrival, but it was far too hectic to be dealing with that now. The man was shown to his room, and when he arrived he turned to speak to the member of the bar staff who had taken him, a young man with long dark hair, and spoke. ”The food and drink I requested will be brought to me in one hour. No more, no less. You may go now.”
The young man left and Samuel turned and lowered his hood, revealing his wavy red and black hair and dark eyes. He pulls off his cloak and throws it aside before sitting on the edge of his bed. He has a small bag strapped around his back, which he removes and lays at his side. He opens it and pulls out a piece of worn paper and a pen, and begins to write.
”I have arrived in Lómëdor and will rest here for awhile. My journey has directly coincided with the route of the storm; whether this was a coincidence or not, I do not know. The last few weeks have physically restored me; I feel considerably stronger and quicker than when I arrived here. My abilities are not developing as I would have wished however. I feel in touch with this world; I can feel - sense, if you will - things that I was unable to do previously, but I am yet to develop the abilities that will truly benefit me in a state of emergency. I fear I am little use to your cause as I am. That said, however, I am confident that these things will come in time. I will write to you again only when I feel I am ready to begin implementing my role in this mission.
Your comrade
Samuel C."
He finished writing it and pulled out an envelope from his bag. He folds up the letter and puts it in the envelope. He stands and stares at the window, and seconds later a fiery beast erupts in front of the window. He snarls at the man who summoned him and Samuel smiles in return. ”Listen to me, creature… this letter must be delivered quickly. You will not pause, not hesitate, not even stop to draw breath. You will walk and walk and walk until this letter is at its destination. I have spoken clearly so I know you understand what I want of you. The letter will be taken to-“ but as he attempted to finish this sentence, there were three loud knocks on the door. Samuel instantly waved his hand in the direction of the demon and it vanished in an eruption of flame. Samuel stared at the door, curious as to who would dare disturb him at this time.
OOC - If you choose to continue this, you’re welcome to use my character to open the door, scorn you/welcome you in, etc.
Lying in front of the crackling heath, the lupine noted the stranger's entrance with something approaching annoyance. He had been *extremely* comfortable in front of the fire (not that he couldn't support the cold- perish the thought!) and the opened door and harsh words were waking up his pleasantly heat-fogged brain. The gentle landlord's very hasty respect to the stranger also annoyed- for a reason he couldn't identify but was sure had to do with something very, very...
Drat, now he was awake.
Stretching luxuriously the lupine shook himself once as he got up- telling the landlord's pups that their sleeping mat was gone and moved off- he was still traveling on all fours before he realized that people were staring. Getting up, he bowed in apology and made his way to the kitchen a sort of bubbly feeling entering him. He was an accepted, if somewhat exotic, storyteller in this establishment- the people called him a 'barbarian bard' and fed him. It felt good to be able to practice his craft even in the city.
Meandering over to the landlord he was about to say something when he noticed something very odd out of the corner of his eye. A sort of shimmering fabric that seemed to be extremely poorly made. Picking it up he stared at it and realized it was a cone.
...Wait, how'd he known that? Keeping the thing at arms length as if it had burned him he politely inquired to the landlord if he knew who it belonged to. The landlord stared at him in blank incomprehension and Geis realized that he had reverted to his own native tongue for some reason. Switching languages he asked again.
"Ah, that'd probably be the newest guest. Mind returning it to him? He's in the East corridor- two or three rooms down from the first."
Seeing nothing better to do, he walked towards the indicated direction found the door in question and knocked carefully. Last time he had tried something like this his fist had hurt abominably. He was glad though that they had taught him the difference between a door and a wall. One was made of wood- the other made of earth and stones.