Mr. Loamsdown had just finished unloading the delivery cart of brewer’s supplies. Barrels full of ingredients moved out from the road, down the narrow cellar stairs and into the stockpile. It was a taxing job that took a good portion of the afternoon, and although quite strong for his age, the Innkeeper had to take a rest in the midst of his duties. Whilst relaxing, Loamsdown pondered the letter Jamwine had sent him. Though secretly elated to hear of his friend’s safety, he could not help but to dwell on the dreadful tone in the message. What possible doom would follow Jamwine Hamfiddle back to the Shire?