[i]"Hurry up, you fool!"[/i]

A bellow that resounded throughout the inn took the attention of Lazarus, who rushed to see what was happening in his inn. Barden, hand on the hilt of his sword, followed after the innkeeper. Upon reaching the bottom floor they saw that a man or... Dog? was being treated for a wound. Barden winced ever so slightly as he watched the flesh being seared shut from the safety of the staircase. His grip relaxed and left his blade. As the commotion settled down around them and the inn returned to its previous atmosphere of calamity the ranger set his gaze back to the staircase. He hoped that the she-elf was not too offended by his swift departure, remembering he had not even allowed her the opportunity to tell him his name.

Since Barden had arrived at the inn a habit from his old life had been nagging at him, a craving as such. Once more the ranger approached the innkeeper. "Innkee- Lazarus, I don't suppose you'd know where I could get a smoking pipe and some pipe weed (tobacco)? I don't imagine there would be any spare lying around here..."

Lazarus cracked a smile to Barden, once again his hand resting on the ranger's shoulder. "You're in luck ranger." The innkeeper told him, scratching at his bearded chin. "I used to be somewhat of a craftsman for a while, I'll fetch you one from my collection." Lazarus paused and looked around him as if he was looking for somebody, "As for the pipe weed, you're going to have to see Grombrindol for that, he's the man, well Dwarf for tobacco around here."

The ranger nodded his head as a show of gratitude towards the innkeeper, "You have my thanks."

Lazarus shook his hands as if to pass up his gratitude, "There is no need to thank me... Go." He began, "Find Grombrindol, he'll probably be out at his anvil, I'm sure you would have seen it on your way in. Tell him I told him to give you keg of whatever pipe weed he has. I'd like to give you a barrel, but I doubt the Dwarf will part with one of those."

Barden laughed and now placed his own hand on the innkeeper's shoulder, mirroring the gesture, "Thank-you, friend." With that Barden took his leave and left the inn, walking around to the anvil and forge. Where, sure enough, he found the Dwarf, "Grombrindol, is it?" He asked.

The Dwarf turned his head to look at the ranger, pausing his hits off whatever it was he was currently forging, "Aye?" he asked, quizzically.

"Lazarus told me you could part with a small keg or pipe weed."

"Aye? Did he now?" Grombrindol gave the blade a few more hard hits with his hammer before dunking it into the water that sat beside the anvil. He turned and walked towards the ranger, eyeing him up. Standing at less than four feet off the ground, Barden arched an eyebrow as he looked down at the Dwarf. "Well, a friend of the innkeeper's is a friend of mine." Grombrindol smirked, patting the ranger on his side. Within moments of rummaging he came back with a small wooden keg, it was like a miniature barrel, he opened the lid and wafted in the scent. "Aha! The finest pipe weed known to these lands." The Dwarf closed the keg once again and passed it out to Barden who took it under his arm. "Southern Star..." Barden noted from having seen label before he tucked it under his arm. He nodded along with Grombrindol, "A very fine tobacco indeed."

"Aye, enjoy it, there'll be more but uh... Don't go smoking it all in one go, I don't want to run out anytime soon, y'know?" The ranger laughed,

"Don't worry, I'll spare it. Thank-you master Dwarf."

"Think nothing of it, ranger." Grombrindol noted, a courteous nod aimed towards Barden, who replied once more with one.

---

Upon entering the inn once more, the keg tucked under his arm, he was approached by Lazarus, "I see Grombrindol was happy to oblige."

"Indeed." Barden replied, looking down at the innkeeper's outstretched hand, something which Barden imagined to be a pipe was wrapped in cloth. Taking the wrapped pipe from the innkeeper's hands he placed the keg down on the table beside them and carefully unwrapped the cloth. The pipe was simple, no fancy engravings or carvings, but it was beautiful. Crafted from Briarwood (as many pipes were), the thin hollow stem (or the shank), was curved, subtly and the bowl (chamber), was a good size, one that fit with the pipe and appeared to be inlay wood by the different shades in the wood. There was no obvious bit (mouthpiece), but rather it was just a part of the stem, the whole pipe blended perfectly and other than the different shades in the chamber looked all like one piece of wood, which Barden was sure it was. "It's perfect."

Lazarus laughed, "Hardly perfect, it was one of the last that I carved, so probably one of the better ones." The innkeeper paused, "I have business to attend to, but enjoy the pipe." He smiled and took his leave of Barden. The ranger tucked the pipe into the belt so that the stem and the chamber were visible, taking the keg of pipe weed in his hands he found his way back outside. Standing on the porch type area he looked out to the woods and put some tobacco into the bowl of the pipe before lighting it up.

The feeling was bliss, nostalgic. Savoring the taste of this particular blend of pipe weed he blew smoke from between his lips, attempting to form rings. While he did get one or two it was something that he had to perfect once again now that he had a pipe and tobacco after a year in the Drakenwald,