[Rob-hin]

Few stars were to be seen this night; even the moon was missing in the black sky.

Ambron inhealed deeply trough his pipe; the tobacco had a strong aromatic taste. Smoking and wine were the two only things he was willing to spend descend amounts of gold at.
He had gotten used to drinking and smoking some of the best quality money could buy.

He looked at the blackness of the sky for a few more minutes; then he remembered where he was. I’d best pay more attention to the small crowd. He thought. My moneybag could be gone in a second if I’m not careful.

He didn’t really have to worry about thieves; most of the people knew and respected him. After all, he had been living around there for quite some time now.
He was known among the small farms around there and a little bit in nearby towns.

Sometimes, however, he longed back to the days when he was still adventuring.
“Aye.” He sighted. “I hope I’m not getting to rusted after all that time.”
Suddenly he felt very old.
“Bah, who am I kidding? Those days are gone…”

A man gave him a friendly pat on the back. “Hey judge, are you going to pass sentence today?” The man first smiled at him and then he laughed. It was one of the local farmers.
“Perhaps, perhaps” Ambron replied.
It wouldn’t be the first time he had interfered in bar fights or market arguments.

This had given him his nickname. “Judge”

Judge he though.
His face lightened up and he smiled.

Then he continued walking towards the Green Griffon Inn.