Entering the crowded Inn, he made his way to the table where the two smiling figures sat. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Greetings, I am Berthelm. Fear not, for I am here to fulfil my destiny.” It sounded pretentious, even to his ears, but the Seer had been quite clear. This was important! The young girl closest to him turned and looked up at him. As she did so, he had a shock as he saw the tips of her slightly pointed ears and then was caught by the steady green gaze that looked back at him. A gaze that hinted it had seen more than her tender years appeared to show. Something within his soul tugged as he stared into the emerald depths. As she looked at him, with one eyebrow raised, he began to feel himself colour and tried to explain, but the words would not come. Shaking her head with a smile quirking on her face, the girl tuned back to her friend and muttered something he could not hear. Judging by the quick giggle and stolen glance in his direction, it was about him and none too complimentary! His embarrassment turned to a hot flush of anger. How dare they ignore him when he was here for such an important reason? He would get their attention and then they would have to speak to him. A small part of his brain clamoured for attention, but he crushed that thought. Forgetting himself a little in his anger, he drew his sword to make his point. “Girl, you need to listen. This is important!” Pointing at her with his finger and tapping her under the chin with his blade, he was pleased to see that she took this seriously. He congratulated himself that he had got her attention - finally. Now, maybe he could tell her what she needed to know. It was at that point he realised something. The Inn had gone deathly quiet. Someone had drawn steel. Every breath was held, as all eyes turned to the warrior. He glanced round. Was anyone going to get involved? Two women at a table across the room were staring intently. The warrior looked ready to move, but her friend had laid a hand on her arm to keep her sat. He turned back, sure of himself again. The hobbit at the girls’ table was engrossed in his meal. The girl’s friend paused mid bite, shock showing on her face. The girl herself looked surprised as she turned to him. Now, he could deliver his message. As his eyes moved across her face, the small part of his brain he had ruthlessly supressed took that moment to intrude. “She’s a half-elf, she’s not a little girl…” As his eyes met hers again, reality came crashing in. Surprise lay in those dark pools – but no fear. In fact, the small part of his brain was quick to note that something resembling amusement and anticipation lingered there. This was not going to end well…