turambar-masterofdoom liked for a starter
Berúthiel lifted her glass to her mouth but did not drink, inhaling the aroma. Dorwinion was a fine place to visit, a crossroads between north and south and west and east, a place where many peoples came together in something like harmony. Oh, there were brawls and disputes here, as there were in any place that Men congregated, but the outright warring of Western and Eastern was, for the most part, lacking.
She gazed around the little tavern, picking out Khandare, Rhúnraini, Haradrim, men of Laketown and Dale; a few Avari sat quietly in one corner, and three red-haired Nandor she vaguely recognized from Mirkwood in another. There was even a raucous table of dwarves from Erebor.
And then there was the solitary man in the darkest corner. She watched him, trying to place his heritage. Dúnadan, she thought at first, but no, it was not quite right….