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She ate her meal, while trying to ignore the hobbit's existance. Chokin could truely not understand how a being could drink so much and dance around oblivious to the troubles in the world.

Keldan emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate of assorted appetizers. She set this down on the counter where it could be within reach of everyone, walked over to the drunken hobbit, and calmly began dancing a jig with her. After several minutes she swept off her hat, gave a deep bow to the room in general, and walked back into the kitchen without saying a word.

An tall old woman wandered in looking bored. She looked to be about 6'3", and had to duck coming in. Glancing around, she noticed an extremely odd assortment of people there; most interesting of all was an apparently drunken hobbit and a perfectly sober-looking elf in an apron jigging to baroque music. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight and she nearly laughed out loud at the scene. Smiling, the old woman walked briskly to a table, and sat down to enjoy what looked like an interesting evening. She picked up a menu and looked over the interesting choices, tapping a withered foot in accompiament to the pretty piece. --A Mozart--, she mused to herself, --I haven't heard a mozart for a long time. I'm glad the young whipper-snappers here know some real music.-- After a minute or so, the jigging elf bowed to the room at large and trotted through some doors that opened to what? --a kitchen, probably.-- The tall female thought wryly. -- After all, why shouldn't the cook just stop her work and dance with a drunken fool? I think I am going to like this place!--

With a smile and a wink, the old women stole the bottle of grog from the hobbit and drank a good swallow of the strong drink without choking-- no easy feat, especially for a woman of her years. She returned the bottle without answering the question. They stared at each other for a short moment, even the alcohol fogged brain of the hobbit could stay still for a minute, and they sized each other up. Finally the woman spoke. "Hello, young hobbit! My name is Elisdano. Do you want me to know magic?" A mysterious glint fills her eyes as she says this, and a couple people turn to look in curiousity at the person who could calm the hobbit down and shut her up for a whole minute.

Seeing as it was time for Keldan's break, she emerged from the kitchen and sat down at the end of the bar. Somewhere along the line she had donned a helm made from, of all things, the skull of a dragon, and now she pushed it back so she could actually use her peripheral vision.

She gave a long, low whistle and said, "Boy, that frying fat can get hot. Good thing I've got this protective gear! Good for battles and cookery!" She pointed and grinned at no one in particular, as though she were a merchant trying his hardest to sell something that no one really wanted.

Having said this, she got to work on her own drink, which was a simple bottle of water. It was rather stupid to mix ale and open flames, after all, in her new profession.

*rolls around on floor*
...good times come from
where the mushrooms grow
grow grow grow
I eat them so
*drinks grog*

The elven cellist laughed, always glad to see other lovers of the art; it gladdened his heart to see a mortal who had taken up the violin. "Westu hal! Mae govannen! Aiya, Ithil!" said Tirno, being a student of the tongues of Elves and Men as well as a cellist. "I'd quite enjoy a duet; have anything in mind?"

Elisdano smiled back and laughed. "No," she said, "You don't see many elves eat. unless you go to an honorary feast, of course. There are few true food lovers among elves. I am glad to have met one of them." The elder peered closely at Kelda. "Are you of Mirkwood lineage? or Rivendell, perhaps? Not one of the Lothlorien folk, surely. I doubt that they'd let one of their young 'uns go wandering about the countryside any more." She held up a hand to stop a reply, laughing again. "Yes, yes, I know you are not young by Human standards. But I never said by whose standards, now did I?"