He’d told himself he was ready, to go and face his brother. But that had lasted all of a few minutes at best. He’d found his brother, Thoruntur had grown even stronger and bigger. Towering over him still and even more powerful. His bravery had died out almost instantly and now he was stuck in this town he no longer knew with a stomach in knots.
He hadn’t been here since he was six. And unlike then, no one knew him. He had nowhere to go except maybe the inn. But he knew that he was going to stay for a bit of time - try and work up the courage to face his brother even if he felt it was a lost cause right now.
He carefully dismounted his horse in the market. Deciding he needed to get himself something to eat if nothing else. He knew there was probably a lot he could find in a town with docks such as these after all. Though he mostly kept his head down as he tried to decide on good food for himself and his steed.
“Mmmm it all smells so good,” he spoke to himself.
"Bring me more mead", roared Gosta as she slammed her gigantic fist on the table. The table practically skipped off the ground form the force. Everyone in the tavern stared intensely at the women. It was not her boorish personality that grabbed there attention, nor was it the fact that she was covered from head to toe in plate armor. The thing that stood out the most about her was her height. She stood seven feet tall and a extra inch just to make the point known. Her body was wide like a old tree and she had legs that compared to logs. The chair supporting her weight creaked from the pressure and her massive appetite impressed even the heaviest of eaters.
"By Saron's finger, she must be some kind of oger", stated one man as he watched the maiden down another mug of mead ins a single gulp.
"More mead", roared the maiden.
This was Gosta's first real trip out of the wilds. Before this she spent here entire life surrounded by trees and mystics. The world around her now was strange, but yet wonderful. For the first time she saw where those soft sheep she slaughtered came from and she finally understood there weakness. Cuddled, every last one of them. Danger was as far away from them as the sky was from her feet. In the forest she could never indulge like she did now. You never knew if a Orc raiding party was just around the corner, or if some beast was lerking in the shadows. Here, there guards, walls, and plenty of meat shields. It took her several months to adjust, if one would say, but Gosta was now kind of use to a town. Her ... how do I put it, social edicate was off, but she understood most of the rules. It was simple really, don't hurt anyone unless they try to hurt you first. If you do hurt someone make sure they don't talk or any sees you doing it. Last but not least pay for stuff, that part was sometimes a pain. She had coin, sure, but people had a tendency to try to cheat her out of it. They try to charge her extra or demand coin for petty stuff. One man even attempted to swindle her out of her armor.
"Down the middle", she chuckled as she down another mug of mead.
To say Eamon heard her was... Well an understatement.
Of course, she was being loud enough that most of Gondor might have been able to hear her. He looked over rather curiously, listening in on the comment about mead. Even if he wasn't exactly an expert on the subject, being young as he was, he got the feeling that this woman must have had a fair bit to drink if anyone was making comment about it.
And so he took a few steps toward the sight in rather curiosity. He had to wonder what kind of woman she was, spending her time downing mead like that. He knew he often wished he was of drinking age to do so - and today was a very good example of that. But for now, all he could do was watch rather curiously, and wistfully if he was being quite honest.
"I could do well to down some of that myself," he murmured, though he knew he'd probably get a bunch of stares and maybe a laugh for that himself.
Seven mugs down and she was starting to feel something. Most men would have passed out by now, but not Gosta. She had both the height and the weight to keep herself going. Still the maiden calmed down with her drinking. As fun as it was to get sloppy drunk, she did not know any of these people. If she past out they probably rob her of her gold or slit her throat. Well maybe not these soft city people, but it was a possibility, a possibility she did not want to explore. Deciding to take it slow Gosta turned form her pint and instead began to tear into her roast duck. It was cooked to perfection, or at least in her eyes. So far she had only eaten her mothers cooking and her own. Her cooking was terrible and her mother's was alright. The duck she ate now was a completely different degree of flavor. It had taste beyond that of the quality of the meat. It was clear to her than the chief knew what they were doing and that her family greatly need a lesson. It was during this realization that she noticed the small boy staring at her.
Who's brat is that, she thought. The young man seemed to be amazed, like many others, by the amount of mead she had downed and was wishing for a pint himself. A few of the people began to laugh and stare at the lad, but not Gosta. She remembered being his age, and even back then she was allowed to take a cup. Then again she was much bigger than he was. Still that did not change her perspective on the situation. Why was it strange for the boy to have a cup.
"Hey give me another round", she spoke as she pulled her coin purse out and toss her debt onto the table. The waitress was just about to ask about the coin when she did so. The maiden took the money and poured another cup of mead into a glass.
"Hey boy if you want some come and get it", spoke Gosta to the lad. "I am in a good mood and feeling generous. However the pint ain't free. I have some questions I would like to ask."