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PICTURE TO COME! (After I've made it ;"D)

Name: Nynaeve Mugwort
Homeland: Bree, in the Bree-land east of the Shire.
Description: Fairly chubby with shoulderlength, wavy lightbrown hair. She usually wears fairly ornate dresses made out of rich fabrics that reach low enough to cover her feet. Her face is fairly slim with puffy cheeks that have a natural, cheery glow to them. As a decendent of the Fallohides, she's fairly tall for a hobbit, reaching to an impressive 3'8".
Age: About 35 in Human years
Gender: Female
Race: Hobbit
Weapons/powers/skills (optional): She carries a small dwarven-made dagger with her at all times, for protection. Other than that she's just majorly good at haggling.
History: Nynaeve grew up as a typical Bree-hobbit, looking down on those in the Shire and taking pretty much all the joys from her life through the many different meals per day. Then her aunt, a Brandybuck, died and left her tavern and inn, "The Green Dragon Inn" in the southern part of the Shire (near Pine) to her. She took up the task of hostess very seriously, running the Inn as well as she could, despite the seemingly lack of customers. She set out of the Shire on a fairly silly reason, however - which is to find interesting foods and drinks to bring back to her Inn, to attract more costumers.
Sample post (needs to be 2-3 paragraphs): Nynaeve often wondered why she bothered dusting the numerous small ornaments in the main hall of the tavern. Dust accumulated every five seconds, and her auntie Celandine had filled the room with what seemed like every bit of prettily made glass that she could find. Most of her days since moving to the Shire had consisted of cleaning and dusting however, with the occasional afternoon visitor to talk to. Usually she would take a cup of tea and settle herself next to whomever it was that visited - most of the times it was a neighbour or a family member who figured that they had to "help poor Nynaeve" out.

Honestly she was getting rather sick of it. The rest of her family back in Bree all seemed to find her quite pitiful. True enough, the tavern was fairly empty and would never get as lively as the ones back in the Bree, where Bree-landers would come visit often too and have a jolly good time.
Sighing pitifully, Nynaeve sat down at one of the round wooden tables, folding her arms across her chest and hanging her head. This just couldn't continue. She was far too young to spend her life like auntie Celandine; waiting around for that single visitor a day. Part of her liked the easy going life she led, but at the same time... it was just so BORING!

Exclaiming a loud "GAH!", Nynaeve made up her mind. She would close the tavern and Inn for a while and go out into the real world. There must be someone who knew how she could attract more visitors. Perhaps she could even make friends, and have them visit her often and stay at the inn. People needed to come to the Shire anyway - the place was so utterly dull in its own happy-go-lucky way that it was nearly sickening. The young hobbit walked over to her storage cabinet and started packing, taking a good amount of brandywine with her, only one thought in her mind.

"We'll see who will mock whom when I return."