Breelanders All! RPG

[piosenniel]

Annunfuiniel's post - Rosco

Rosco stood on the doorstep of his hobbit hole and breathed deep the fresh morning air. The sun was still low on the eastern sky and the wind had not yet woken. What a fine day to go hunting! the hobbit mused and turned to get his bow from inside when suddenly a rattle of cartwheels reached his ears and made him glance back.

A plump pony trudged slowly up the road from Staddle towards Rosco’s burrow and the small red cart behind the beast swayed gently from side to side with every move. On the driver's seat there sat a grey figure that to a stranger would have seemed to be nodding in sleep. But Rosco recognised the comer and smiled.

“Good morning, dear old Hamson!” Rosco called out and raised his hand in greeting; “You’re early on the road. Going to town?”

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Woodfarer. The early bird catches the worm, they say – and the early hobbit gets a second breakfast says I. It sure looks like a fine day coming; yesterday’s rain was just what we needed! And yes, I’m on me way to Bree to visit me son and his family – he keeps a little shop now, you know; 'What ye can imagine that lad can carve' I used to tell all and now he’s tryin’ to make a living out of that art. And then I must run some errands: sell this and buy that, you see. Though I must say there’s not much to sell… But here we go again! I just rattle on and almost forget the reason for me call!” The old hobbit rummaged around his bags and baskets; “Where did I put it… Ah, there!” he handed out a small, warm package.

“Me wife told me to give this to you. 'Take this bread to Mr. Woodfarer,' she says; 'for bread doesn’t grow in trees and yet he walks in the woods all days long. We must take care of him!'”

The grey hobbit grinned; “'Take care of him?' I says to her; 'Mr. Woodfarer’s no lad anymore; surely he knows how to look after himself!' But did she take heed of me words? Why of course not!”

Rosco listened to this flood of speech smilingly. But he knew well the value of the gift and thought hard how he could repay the old hobbit couple. Finally he had a chance to speak; “Thank your kind wife for the bread and for her concern.” The delicious smell of the fresh baking flowed to Rosco’s nostrils and he had an idea. “But tell me: would it ease her heart if she did the baking for me from now on? I was thinking maybe three or four times a week? I would pay her what I’ve paid to the bakery before.”

Old Hamson took his hat in his hand and bowed his head; “Thank you, Sir; I’ll ask her. But I’d say she’ll be only pleased to hear this offer.”

Rosco watched as the cart and pony disappeared down the hill and then he stepped inside. Soon he appeared again, wrapped in his grey cloak and carrying his bow, quiver hanging from his belt. He headed towards the sunrise and soon vanished into the green shadows of the wood.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosco returned to his burrow couple of hours later, whistling a merry tune. He felt refreshed as always on such a day when things seemed to flow smoothly from the beginning.

The round green door swung open with a barely noticeable creak and Rosco stepped in. He hung the bow on its place on the wall and the quiver – the arrows this time untouched – right beside the weapon. Then he just stood there for a moment or two staring into the distance, suddenly unwilling to stay inside though his stomach – which could be quite persuasive - would have been willing to steer his steps towards the kitchen.

Then slowly Rosco's stare became focused again and his lips curved in to a smile. Of course! I'll go see Mausi and the kids – that's the way to perfect the day! The thought of a pleasant visit – and the unintentional rhyming – made Rosco chuckle. He made a quick stop in to the kitchen, then stepped out and headed down the hill with the smell of freshly-baked bread following close behind.

[ September 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Annunfuiniel and Child's post - Mausi, Andreth, and Kali

Mausi let down her needlework and rubbed her eyes. Three hours of stitching in a row doesn’t do good for anyone’s sight she mused and tried to rest her blurred gaze by looking into the distance. Bright late-morning sun peeked inside from the southern window. Mausi shrugged her shoulders and eyed her accomplishments with mixed feelings: the job was almost ready but it had been a simple task from the beginning - the small, moss green jacket had only needed some patching and new buttons. The money that I get from this work will be spent quicker than Mondy manages to get into new trouble! Mausi grinned sadly. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. How gladly she would have sewn a totally new jacket! But who could afford to make such an order nowadays?

Mausi was just about to pick up the sewing from her lap for a final touch when she heard the front door fly open and the sound of light, quick-paced footsteps filled the air. Mausi startled but then smiled: “Kali, my dear! Please don’t run while inside. Remember what happened the last t…” Her voice trailed off as she heard another, much heavier step. Who could that possibly be? she wondered and stood up, placing her work on the kitchen table beside her.

“Kali?” she asked, now in an alarmed tone.

“Mima!” the boy exclaimed as he burst into the kitchen and ran straight to his mother’s lap.

“Kali, what’s wrong?” Mausi questioned anxiously as she saw the trails of dried tears striping her son’s dingy face; “Where are the others?” She forgot about the other footsteps until a large figure filled the doorway. Mausi held her child tighter in her arms and spoke, unable to hide her nervousness: “Who is it? What have you done that scared my son like this?”

The shadow hesitated but Kali finally opened his mouth: “Mima, this is my new friend. She has done nothing wrong. Please be kind to her. It was the big boys… They called me names and…and…I want to learn to read, Mima!”

Mausi was perplexed, to say the least: “Read? What has reading got to do with all this?” The shadowy figure moved cautiously inside and Mausi saw a woman, one of the Big Folk. She gasped but then controlled her expression. This isn’t the first time you’ve see one of them, you fool!

Although Mausi’s little cottage had extremely lofty rooms for a Hobbit dwelling, the woman was tall even for one of the big folk. She had to bend and dodge the chandelier that hung high above the Hobbit heads. After a short but awkward silence Mausi found her words again, “I apologize for my heedless words! I am Mausi Honeysuckle, Kali’s mother, as you probably have gathered already. May I now ask for your name?”

Mausi eyed the stranger still somewhat suspicious though her son’s words had been reassuring. The woman’s face seemed familiar to Mausi and suddenly like a stroke of lightning it dawned on her: The innkeeper! That’s who she is!

The taller woman extended her hand in greeting to Mausi. “I’m sorry that I startled you so. But your son insisted I come in to meet you. My name is Andreth Thistlewool. I’m the proprietor of the Prancing Pony.”

Andreth turned around to face Mausi, “I found Kali hurt and crying on the back steps of the Inn. Some of the big lads were teasing him. I’m sorry for that.”

“And what did they say to him?” Mausi bristled. She turned her eyes from the innkeeper to her son, but the little boy clammed up and refused to talk.

The larger woman’s face went beet red as she turned to face Mausi. “I’m afraid some of these lads need discipline. They were calling him names, and said he was stupid…” What Andreth did not say was that, much to her embarrassment, her own son Edmund had gone along with the group who’d been tormenting the boy.

At this point the younger lad piped up, blinking back his tears, “Bill, the big one, called me a ‘rabbit’. He said I was too dumb to learn my letters and numbers.” The boy shifted his gaze downward.

Andreth flinched uncomfortably, “I’m so sorry, Mistress Honeysuckle. Some children can be incredibly rude. But I’m afraid there’s even worse than that. Two of the lads stole your son’s hat and flung it about the courtyard, forcing him to go chasing after them.”

As the full explanation came out Mausi’s cheeks flushed with anger though she tried to hold herself back. This won’t do anymore! she mused and then spoke aloud, “Kali, could you go and get Ella and Mondy here.”

Then she realized what was wrong with the whole picture, “Where are they anyway? They were supposed to look after you.” Kali sensed his siblings were in big trouble and kept silent, staring down at his dusty toes.

The innkeeper glanced at him but then turned around to address Mausi, “There were two young Hobbits coming from the Gate as we entered, a boy and a girl. Maybe these were the ones you’re looking for?”

“Most likely so.” Mausi sighed, “They have probably seen something “interesting” again and gone to take a closer look at whatever it is without further thought. Kali, run now and call for them - they can’t be far - I need Mondy to do something for me.”

The young lad still hesitated. “No, they are not in trouble if they come right away.” Mausi assured him, smiling at her younger son’s concern.

Kali ran off, returning soon with his siblings. Mondy and Ella's enthusiastic babbling could be heard as soon as the front door opened. But with them came a third hobbit; a tall and slender man in a patched grey cloak.

"Ro-... Mr. Woodfarer! Just the hobbit I hoped to see!" Mausi exclaimed and hurried the few paces to the door to greet the newcomer.

Rosco Woodfarer took the hand that was extended to him in greeting and shook it lightly, feeling Mausi's strong grip. Still rocking on his heels on the doorstep Rosco scanned the room in front of him. Mister? he frowned. The hobbits had called themselves by first names for years now, except among total strangers. 'What...?' the question didn't have time to form in his mind before his eyes fixed on the red-haired woman.

An awkward silence fell to the room as even Ella and Mondy hushed to stare at the 'biggie' (as they named all of the Big Folk), swaying between fear and curiosity. But Rosco's blue eyes flew from one woman to the other and seeing Mausi's strained face he jumped into conclusions.

"What is this?" he addressed his words to Mausi. "Is there a problem?" His gaze shifted to the innkeeper.

Andreth moved uneasily but Mausi's face reddened at her friend's impoliteness. Then she raised her hands to her hips. "There are some problems indeed..." Mausi began, "-but not with her!" She hissed from between her teeth and beckoned Rosco to come further inside. "...and Miss Woolthistle here was so kind as to bring them to my knowledge. We-"

The front door opened and a gust of wind swept through the rooms, once again carrying the sound of footsteps. What a market! Mausi sighed and spun round, nailing her gaze to the doorway.....

[piosenniel]

Piosenniel's post - Berilac

It was a pleasant enough day for tramping down the road, he thought to himself. The mid-day sun was warm against the promised chill of early autumn, and a few late flowers poked their fading heads through the dried grasses along the roadway. It had been nearly a year since last he’d seen his brother and sisters. His mouth curved up in a soft smile at the thought of Britnie and Goldy, both married now with little ones of their own. They lived very near one another (as children they had been inseparable), and every so often he would receive a joint letter from both of them letting him know the little details of their lives and of course always hinting that perhaps, if he could see fit to be decent about it, he would bring his wife and daughter to visit the better half of the family. He could see them now, Britnie with her hands on her hips and Goldie wagging her finger at him, when he told them the latest news – they were about to become aunts once more.

He paused, just before he reached the Southgate and brushed the road dust from his breeches and shirt. He pulled back his hair, undone a little in the breeze, and smoothed it into the confines of the leather cord he used to bind it once more. His hands and face he had already washed in a nearby pool – filled to brimming now with water after the recent shower. He had smiled at his reflection in the still water before cupping it in his hands – how lucky to not be bothered with facial hair like his Mannish counterparts. Days of tramping and living rough would have brought them to Bree looking more scurvy than the ruffians they came to warn about.

As it was, the Gatekeeper admitted him but barely, muttering something about odd looking Hobbits. He cast a suspicious eye on his long bow and knife and debated for a moment whether he needed to alert the Bree watch about this overly armed hole dweller. In the end he decided it was too much trouble and waved him in, returning to his perusal of the bottom of the pint one of his friends had so kindly brought him from the Inn.

Berilac walked slowly across the causeway over the dike and through the gate taking in the details of the town’s defenses. He paused once he was well past the hedge and looked back. His eyes narrowed at what he saw, and he ticked off mentally those things that needed to be fixed or strengthened. The earthen-work dike had caved in and filled up in places; the hedge had not been well taken care of and stood thin at various points he could see from where he stood. The gate itself looked as if it had no cross bar to keep out would be intruders. And the flimsy latch on it would not hold back the efforts of a small child he thought to himself. He sighed, taking in the last problem, but not the least – the Gatekeeper . . . drinking on duty.

He turned away from the gate, and trudged up one of the main paths, stopping to ask several Hobbits along the way for directions to Mausi’s house. With any luck he could bunk down at her place, then visit his brother on the morrow. He laughed to himself thinking of Ella and Mondy and little Kali. Perhaps they could be persuaded to walk about the perimeter of the town with him. If anyone knew where the places for easy ins and outs were along the hedge and dike it would be the children.

Reaching his friend’s doorway he noted a largish cart parked just outside, and wondered if one of the Big Folk had brought some business for Mausi and her nimble fingers. No one answered at his light knock, and he turned the handle of the door to let himself in, as she had so often told him to do in the past. He heard voices and paused not wanting to intrude. From his vantage point he saw a tall woman smile at Mausi and extend her hand in farewell. Her words came clearly to him.

‘Your children are safe, and I see that you have a visitor,’ the woman said in parting. ‘I’m afraid I truly must be going. My own son is at the Inn with Cook looking out after him. He’s quite a handful for her, and I need to get home.’ The woman hurried out of the room and down the hall to the door, nodding at Berilac as she passed.

Berilac’s grin widened as he entered the room where Mausi stood, and he gave an astonished gasp when he saw his brother standing off to the side. They embraced, clapping each other heartily on the back. Mausi standing to one side looked on, delighted to see Berilac and to see his brother enjoying the surprise. Berilac broke from his brother’s embrace and swept Mausi into a bear hug, causing her to squeal as he lifted her from the floor, then deposited her into his brother’s astonished arms.

_____________________________________________


She invited them to stay for supper and sent them down to her small side cellar to pick out vegetables for a thick soup. They were drafted into helping her prepare it while she made a pan of biscuits to go with it. It was during the chopping of the carrots and taters that Mausi inquired, in a soft voice, hoping against hope, about her parents and siblings. Had Berilac had a chance to see if there were any news on their whereabouts, she wondered. Rosco, too, looked up expectantly.

‘Aye, I do have news, and better than I ever thought to find.’ He could hear her short intake of breath at this auspicious beginning. ‘Your family is well and they all send their regards to you and the children. They dwell now in the Angle, as the country that lies between Hoarwell and Loudwater is called. There’s a great hobbit settlement there, with many Stoors, established by our southern cousins that have long been separated from us.’

‘The Angle?’ asked Rosco, his brows rising. ‘Yes,’ replied Berilac, ‘not far in distance from where I live, though our way is hidden to them.’

The soup was bubbling merrily and the smell of the browning biscuits made Berilac’s mouth water after days of cold meals eaten quickly on the along the trail. Mausi was busy getting the children ready for dinner – hands and faces washed. And giving them little tasks to set the table for the meal. Rosco, sitting in a chair in the front room, Berilac near him, took the opportunity of this busy diversion to ask his brother the real reason for this visit. Berilac filled him in on the news about the bandits saying that he and one of the Big Folk Rangers would be calling a meeting for all the folk in Bree-land about meeting this threat.

Rosco listened closely and shook his head at what his brother had said and what he expected. ‘I know,’ said Berilac, reading the expression on his brother’s face. ‘It’s going to take some doing . . . and unfortunately not just in fixing the dike and hedge . . .’

[piosenniel]

Child's post - Andreth Thistlewool

Grimly reflecting on the specific punishment she would dole out to Edmund for his part in this ill-mannered escapade, Andreth clambered into the pony cart and flicked the reins over Bettercup's back. Thank goodness Kali hadn’t guessed Edmund was her son, or mentioned his part in this affair to Mausi. The woman might never have spoken with her. Edmund was only seven years old, yet already he’d picked up the rude language and behavior of the older boys when it came to dealing with hobbit children.

She remembered the group of bullying lads and sighed. There were enough real problems in life to keep everyone busy in these hard times. No need to go out and create others that were totally unnecessary.

Andreth navigated her cart down the main street of Bree, carefully skirting the large potholes, and pulled up in front of the Inn. But before she could run inside to speak with Edmund or ask the stable lad to unhitch Buttercup, she could see another problem already brewing on the front steps. A noisy throng of guests had gathered near the entrance to the Pony; she could hear their voices rising and falling as they pressed foward with insistent questions, bantering back and forth with a tall gentleman dressed in Ranger’s gear. Andreth placed her hands on her hips and inwardly groaned as she took in this scene of mounting confusion. Then she curtly reminded herself to keep her tongue in check.

Several of the guests stood over to one side reading a placard that had been nailed up near the entrance to the Inn. As this group noticed Andreth approaching, one of the men whirled around and spat out his indignation, “Are you going to let this stranger post notices without permission? Humpf! How do we know it’s true? I haven’t seen any bandits lurking on my doorstep. And to suggest we cooperate with those sniveling hobbits! It’s preposterous. If your husband was alive, Andreth Thistlewool, he’d put a quick end to this. This is what comes of letting unattached women run an Inn!"

"And, as for you….” The gentleman stepped forward with his fist raised against the Ranger.

Just as Ned the Miller was about to leap out and intervene, Andreth bounded from the cart and elbowed her way through the crowd, pushing several guests aside until she stood face-to-face with the Ranger who presided over the mob. Her eyes flashed with indignation.

“What’s all this? Who gave you permission to post that notice on the Inn and incite my guests? I’m Andreth, the proprietor here, and I demand to know what’s going on!” She stepped back and stared at the tall figure of the Ranger. He looked at her with a hint of a grin on his face, an expression that registered halfway between amusement and resignation. Then, he gestured towards the placard that was posted near the front door. There, at the bottom of the board, in a conspicuous spot, was the signature and raised seal of the Mayor.

Andreth looked embarassed and bit her tongue. Whatever this was, it was no mere jest. She reached out a welcoming hand to the Ranger and added regretfully, “I’m sorry. It’s not been a good day. I should have looked before I spoke. Please, if you have a moment, step inside and explain what’s happening. Some of my patrons are upset, and I may have to explain things to them.”

With that the tall, willowy figure of the proprietor and the rugged one of the Ranger disappeared down a side corridor of the Inn, heading towards a room that Andreth used as her private office. In the distance she could hear the stubborn protests of her young son Edmund who was already leading Cook on a merry chase through the kitchen and the pantries.

[piosenniel]

Beren87's post - Minastan

Minastan walked along the main road in Bree, the Prancing Pony ahead of him in the distance. The notice he carried in his hand, the ink still slightly wet from the Mayor's assitant, waved in his wake. He continued moving on, ignoring the idle stares of the people of the city. A ranger will always draw stares, he said to himself, lofting his position in his mind higher than the people of the city ever cared to do.

Some began to follow him, interested in the paper fluttering in his hand. They gathered around the steps as he climbed them, growing larger as time progressed. He took out a tac, and placed it on the top and bottom of the notice, then proceeded to step to the side, so that the gathered mass would have time enough to read.

He blinked at the crowd around him, the subtle grin on his face mearly covering the amusement he felt inside for their sudden voluminous chaos. His hand rested lightly on the sign he had just posted. The people weren't generally trusting of Rangers as it was, and he knew that, but surely they would take the words of the Mayor?

"What on Earth does this mean?" shouted one man from the crowd, his voice rising above the rest. "Cooperate with Hobbits? What on earth for?"

A tall man in the front of the crowd proceeded to state "You rangers had best be watching where you're posting these things, I'm sure the Innkeeper won't abide by you simply nailing things to the Pony."

Suddenly, a woman came elbowing through the crowd, her recently unoccupied cart easily seen in the road. He smiled down at her from the step, her grim face revealing her grim attitude towards the commotion his notice was posting. She proceeded to proclaim herself the owner of the Inn, bellowing about posting notices without warning. He merely continued pointing at the sign, waiting for her to see the raised seal on the bottom. Suddenly she flushed, noticing the sign of the Mayor, and then apologized for her initial anger.

Her hand shot out to the door, opening it and then inviting him in, leaving the crowd to ponder as they liked. She led him down a small, side corridor, her pace quickening with the assurance of a widower. A door arose out of the end of the hall, their obvious destination. She opened it without a glance, and invited him in. There were a few ruffles of paper upon the desk, which she hurriedly tidied.

"Now then, what's the meaning of all this?

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post - Edmund

Edmund Woolthistle, a young lad of seven years, sat on a little stool in the kitchen of the Prancing Pony, a basket of potatoes at his feet. His freckled face was bright read, partly with anger and partly because of his efforts. He had already peeled the awesome amount of five whole potatoes for Cook to mash later, and he was feeling pretty exhausted. Cook was, obviously, cooking, but at the same time she was watching Edmund with a stern eye.

He had to endure this suffering all because of that silly hobbit boy! What a crybaby he had been. All they (meaning Edmund and his ne'er-do-well friends) had done was try to have a bit of fun with him (which, you must take note, means teasing) and he had burst into tears. So when they had tried to play a game with him (stealing his hat and tossing it to one another, causing the poor hobbit boy more distress), they had expected him to cheer up, but did he? Of course not! He was a hobbit, so he wouldn't.

I am being punished because some stupid hobbit is a crybaby, Edmund thought ferociously, picking up another potato. I'll be stuck in this stupid kitchen all day because of that stupid crybaby. Reflecting on this grim thought, Edmund felt anger building up at rapid paces inside of him. Forgetting that Cook was watching him, even forgetting that he was sitting in the prison of the kitchen, he took up the potato he had just finished and hurtled it across the room. It narrowly missed Cook's head and with an indescribable noise hit the kitchen wall. Cook immediately turned flashing eyes towards Edmund, but the boy's own blue eyes showed no signs of remorse for what he had just done.

"...and if Edmund should cause any further trouble while in the kitchen, you may think of a suitable punishment for him." Those had been Andreth's words. Cook didn't hesitate to carry them out. "Edmund Woolthistle, you will clean up that mess immediately, and then you will finish those potatoes. Instead of letting you off after dinner like I had originally intended, you will stay and help me clean up. You can expect to be doing many dishes and scrubbing many tables, young man."

Edmund gave her a sour look as he crossed the kitchen to take care of the crushed potato. His slightly chubby face turned an even deeper shade of red, if that were possible. He had planned to take care of his wounded squirrel after dinner, but now Cook had to spoil it all. She would feel sorry when the squirrel died, that she would. But the poor squirrel, that had to suffer so that horrible Cook could satisfy her need for punishing innocent little boys! Edmund thought all these things with the anger increasing in him. The injustice of the world was too great.

[piosenniel]

Golden's post - Uther

Bloody heat. Never gave a man a moments rest now in these days, or so thought the tall man who was thinking it. And that blazing orange-gold sun was no help. Not a cloud in the sky, pity, they were long past do a good shower of rain, falling onto the grass and their heads of hair lightly and blissfully with a grace like an elvish dance. Uther pulled along down the street, his long crimson curls behind him, billowing in a brief moment of wind.

Bree was a nice town, that’s what Uther had always believed. Full of good hearted men, and little folk. Indeed, they were weird, those hobbits, but he could tolerate a bit of queerity, for he had learned that hobbits make rather good cooks.

He was now on his way to the local Inn for a pint, and perhaps a chat. There was usually someone who he could tell to his tale of the time he and his now long-dead father Druther ventured into the Misty Mountains. Thought he had told it to practically everyone who would listen. And if none would let it be told, maybe he'd hear some odd tale from one of them Rangers. They usually had something.
Not that Uther was an adventurous man, he preferred to stay right here in Bree, Thank-you-very-much, but he always enjoyed a good tale of bravery and hard work. And perhaps a hard kill. It was hard work and hard kills that made men, men. Not that he expected one from one of them little folk. They seldom, if ever, had such good tales.

With a long sigh he arrived at the Inn, and was glad too. It was so hot outside, especially after a few hours of good ol' manual labor, but still in this heat it wasn't as much fun. Past the wooden gates and through the oak doors until at last he was at the threshold of the Inn and it's wonderful bar. He entered and called over to the barkeep at once.

"Aye, o'er here, how 'bout a pint fella!"

He gruffed and sat down at a dark table in the corner. He could see all kinds here. Small little hobbits busy with their own things. One thing he admired about them was they were good farmers. He, being a farmer himself, knew it well. Busy men talking and drinking merrily, always a fun sight and more fun to join. Those odd Rangers talking in whispers to each other, odd folk, but they had the look of men who were used to hard work, so Uther gave them some respect. And the occasional Dwarf or (rarely) Elf who would pass by.

With a grunt he thanked the Barkeep as his ale was brought over, quickly downing nearly half the glass. He was a big man and even bigger to the Hobbits and Dwarves. But he had great respect for Dwarves, now there were fellows who knew about hard work and labor! Why, when he was only a lad and had out-worked some of the older men of the village, they claimed he was related to Dwarves. Of course, now that he was 7'1" that was a ridiculous idea, as it had always been. But still, he respected the little bearded men.

These were the thoughts on the big mans brain as he drink the sweet tasting ale. He loved Bree with a passion. He loved the grass, as green as one could hope for, and the waters, crisp and blue and clean. It was a nice little town. The Inn was his home away from the farm. The dark common-room lit by the flickering ruby flames of the fire, the large pint at his large hands. The many faces, people. Oh it was a good place. And not a bad place for little Arthur II to live in, either. No, his nephew, grandson of his brother, was in good hands here. Strong hands. The hands of Uther, the "Ox Man".

********************************************

Asa's post - Elmerith

Elmerith walked around the various dykes and ditches that surrounded the little town of Bree. He looked down at them in disgust, "How are we going to defend this city against an organized attack?" he said aloud with frustration. He knew full well that these ditches were the city's main defense against any real army and they were in such poor shape that he didn't think that they would fill up properly to even slow an attack. As he walked down the path he looked out. Dawn was approaching and it was close to the end of his shift. Or at least officially. Usually the person who was supposed to relieve him was too drunk to patrol so he had to do more than his share of guard duty that was debatably the most boring pastime known to man. He sighed and kicked a dirt cloud up. He would report to his superiors about the fact that everyone else was drunk but they were also drunk and so there was nothing else to do but do his duty. He hadn't had sleep for days.

Maybe one of the Halflings could relieve him? He thought that that was unlikely because like his peers they were also overly fond of their ale and food. The whole town didn't seem to care whether they were taken over or not. He kicked up another dirt pile. Hobbits probably weren’t capable of being a guard or a fighter because of their size. All in all they seemed to be a totally useless race, "Why did Illvutar go to the trouble of creating such a useless race? They consume but do not earn anything." he thought.

Elmerith made his way back to the guard room where he was going to find yet another drunken guard who needed him to take his place yet again. As he walked on he passed the Prancing Pony which said that a large band of bandits were planning to attack the town. Elmerith cursed; now the city was going to be attacked as he had feared. The city's defenses were in disrepair and he was the only soldier that was fit to fight!

He read one notice that the citizens were to meet with the hobbits to discuss a defense. "Well at least they are doing something about it. That exceeds my expectations." Elmerith thought dryly. The question was what plan were a bunch of drunks and a few useless hobbits going to think up. Hardly anything that was rationally doable and in enough time probably. He marched into the Prancing Pony in a very foul temper.

[ October 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post - Harald

“The best thing your Mum ever did as Mayor was holding these weekly market days,” observed Telien. The two men sat in the new Mayor’s kitchen that overlooked the street and the town below.

“The market days and keeping the streets in order,” agreed Harald. “Let’s have a look at the market, shall we? It’s the first one since Mum died and I should make an appearance, I think.” He tied his red scarf around his neck – symbol of the mayor’s office – and the two went down the narrow stairs to the front door.

“You’ll have to make a more important appearance soon,” said Telien. “Did you hear the news?”

Harald had many ways of hearing the news. He said, “Wanderers in the Wild. Rangers, crying doom. Their party is staying at the Pony.” They were walking downhill from the good residential section of Bree, where houses were two-story stone and the streets were paved – yes, paved – with Brandywine river gravel. Also, a Hobbit family from one of the outlying villages had found a way to chop tree branches and saplings to make a rough mulch. Parts of Bree actually had side trails of springy shredded bark as a result.

“This beats mud,” observed Telien.

Harald was not so sure. “I miss mud,” he said. “If this drought continues, wells could dry up. Livestock could die. Crops already are withering. As for that bunch of Archet Hobbits, downed tree limbs might be the best crop they can come up with this year. Of all the things we don’t need just now, it is scary stories from uncivilized folk. I want you at the meeting, Telien. The Captain of Guard must hear with his own ears if this is a credible threat.” And Telien nodded.

They were now come to the place of the market fair, a little dell in the Bree Hill just south of The Prancing Pony Inn. In former times it had been grassy and green. Now it was dull and browning. That was not the only change.

“Where is everyone?” wondered Telien. For many of the accustomed stalls and stands were not there. It was the middle of Halimath yet noticeably lacking was the fall produce of the rich outlying farms. In their places stood the stalls of Hobbit townsfolk, displaying their cottage-made crafts. The crowd of marketers was thinner than Harald had ever seen.

“This is worrisome,” said Harald. “At first I thought the market fair brought us and the Hobbits too close together. I thought Mum was a bit off, to tell you the truth. Then, their farms did well, and next thing you know, the townsfolk are relying on the Hobbit farms and villages for basic foodstuffs and raw materials.”

“But they relied on us for lumber and smithed products, and a market for their wares. They bartered with us fairly and spent their coin in our taverns and shops,” Telien said reasonably.

“I shall just want to keep an eye on them,” said Harald. “They may befriend us when times are easy but in times of trouble they will keep to their own, just you watch. Big is Big and Little is Little.”

Harald contemplated the Hobbits and their visible impact on the economy a moment longer. Then he said, “I will see you at the meeting. Maybe these … Rangers are alarmed over nothing.” He didn’t sound convincing even to himself. “Meanwhile, I must leave you a while, my brother. I have an errand at the stables.”

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Arwen Baggins' post - Alvinac and Kari

Alvinac sat quietly in the mill, with his eleven-year-old daughter Kari focusing on pouring lumpy flour beside him. The room was quiet, and the only disturbance was a small mouse scampering in and out of the barrels of flour.

Kari, looking around to make sure her father wasn't watching, reached down beside the barrel she was sitting on and pulled up a book. Alvinac often asked her how a hobbit could write a book when most hobbit's couldn't read, but Kari always had an answer. "I borrowed it from Miss Woolthistle. She said that Mistress Camelia Goodchild Zaragamba wrote it. She was a real smart hobbit." Her father told her that she would never come in contact with a hobbit and she didn't need to know how to act around one, but she read the book anyway.
Not even looking up from his work, Alvinac sternly uttered, "Karianne Alexia, put the book down." Kari rolled her eyes and leaned down again to drop the book.

She was stopped when they heard shouts from the streets. The girl perked up and ran toward the door. "Papa! Let's go! A Ranger's out there, and there might be some fights!" Without waiting an answer, Kari bolted down the stairs toward the Prancing Pony.

Alvinac met his daughter on the steps of the Pony, his fists raised. "Papa... the note says that we're gonna be having a meetin' with Hobbits!" She tried to sound angry, but her joy could be heard and seen.

Her father lowered his fist with a jerk, and leaned in to make sure his inquisitive daughter was telling the truth. Seeing that the note did state that, he clenched his teeth and grabbed Kari's arm. "At this meeting..."

Kari smiled. 'He's going!' She thought to herself. Alvinac must have seen it in her eyes, because he quickly retorted, "If we go..." Then he paused. "You will arouse no interest of these Hobbits. You understand?"
Her copper-colored curls lowered at first, but then she nodded and looked hopefully up at him.

Her father rubbed her head and sighed, "Go get your book. I'll teach you some new foot techniques." Kari's grin widened, and she ran off down the crowded lane to the mill.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Esgallhugwen's post - Poppy and Mungo

Poppy sat content next to her grandpa, Mungo Goldworthy, in the garden. Flowers of all sorts sprang out of the ground in colourful bursts among the green grass.

Poppy inhaled deeply the sweetness of their scent while Mungo leaned back and sniffed the sweet aroma of the leek soup that wafted up to his nostrils . She pondered the news that came to Bree, a group of people were coming and weren't expected to be all that friendly.

Poppy hoped dearly that no great harm would come to anyone including the Big Folk even if she thought them to be a little queer at times. 'So Poppy my dear little grandaughter, what seems to be on your mind? you seemed concerned 'bout something' Mungo ruminated. 'I must be honest with you, I'm a little concerned about the news that came today, you know about those bandits are heading our way'

'I know what your talking about, sweety, I might be old but I'm not deaf' he laughed lazily picking up his spoon and helping himself to a generous portion of the thick green broth, licking his lips in appreciation of the savory taste. He stared out contentedly across the garden as the delicate petals of the autumn flowers bobbed and nodded in the late afternoon sun.

'Perhaps picking some fruit and vegetables from the garden will take my mind off of it for a while, I'll bring a basket of strawberries and rasberries for you if you like and while I'm at it some peas and potatoes for dinner'. Poppy stood up and straightened out her green dress; picking up the two baskets next to her she set about going through the bushes of raspberries, then kneeling down to get to the strawberries, every so often indulging herself.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie

Rosie rushed in to the kitchen. Where were Fippi and Hedgar? She looked out the window towards the three mills. No Fippi and no Hedgar.... The sausages would be cold and the whole lunch would be ruined! They said they would get back from town in good time before lunch, but no, they weren't here. She glanced over at the mills, could they have stopped by before going home? No, she would have seen them if this was the case.

Rosie was strucked by a hurt and angry feeling. They could have told me that they would be late, she thought and gave a short sigh. She was very dissapoinded, because she had been cooking since breakfast, just to make this lunch special. How could they forget? Maybe they had lost track of time.... but this only made Rosie a whole lot angrier. She had told them when to come home, just before they left!

She looked over at the table everything was ready for them. Small, and nice plates decorated with flowers. The cosy cups were filled with lovely hot tea. Green and yellow flowers were also decorating the tablecloth, because they were Rosie's favourite colours.

Oh, well, this wasn't exactly the first time such a thing had happened. She remembered when Fippi had been late for dinner once. He had been climbing trees, and afterwards he couldn't get down. Rosie had been quite worry, and she and hedgar had been looking everywhere for him., but without a result. Then when the darkness was about to keep over them, they had heard screaming from the backyard. It had been Fippi of course. The poor little boy had been stuck in the tree for 3 hours! Rosie had never fogiven heself after this episode, and she rememberd that she had made him hot tea and cake everyday for a month.

As she thought of this, she got really frightened. What if something had happend to her little boy, Fippi? She ran towards the window again, and looked out.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post - Hedgar and Fippi

"Fippi, it's almost lunch time," Hedgar said grumply. Fippi had insisted on taking a long walk down-town in Bree. Hedgar didn't have a choice, he never had. Fippi sprang down the street, his father in his heels, muttering something about where his son dicsipline was, and if hadn't learned anything from his father. Fippi ran on. Hedgar on the other hand, went slower and slower. He hadn't the strenght to run that fast, both his stomach and his legs were not fit for such. Fippi stopped and waved at his father making a grimace, exclaming something about being first to the meat shop.

Hadgar held Fippi tightly in his hand. "I wanted you to win, sonny. It's good for you. I've won plenty in my life, it's your turn," he lied. Fippi noticed, but didn't say anything. He just lookd up at his father with an innocent look. "The Inn," he muttered. Fippi loved the Inns, just like his father. The little hobbit man had no option than to lead his eight years old son to The Prancing Pony. I need to get myself a pint anyway, Hedgar thought giving his son a smile. Fippi started running again, letting go of his father's hand. Hedgar 'ran' (If that's what you want to call it) after.

-------------------------------------------

“Are you going to let this stranger post notices without permission? Humpf! How do we know it’s true? I haven’t seen any bandits lurking on my doorstep. And to suggest we cooperate with those sniveling hobbits! It’s preposterous. If your husband was alive, Andreth Thistlewool, he’d put a quick end to this. This is what comes of letting unattached women run an Inn!"

Hedgar stood stricken. Fippi was silent too. "Close your ears sonny," Hedgar commanded. Fippi didn't do as told, he just pretended, his father knew that. Hedgar tried to understand what was said, but the Big Folk was all over the place, and the little hobbit didn't seem to get noticed, and if he was, they gave him glares. "Filthy little, I mean big...." he muttered. He felt his tunic being dragged downwards. It was Fippi reaching up, "I want to go home. They are saying so many horrible things.." he said giving a sigh. His father nodded, to Fippi's pleasure. "Come," Fippi said, now taking his father's hand and turning from the noisy crowd.

-------------------------------------------

Hedgar's son ran the little distance remaining. Hedgar followed in his slow pace. The hobbit wasn't very pleased with today's 'adventure'. His son was sad, he had obviously heard too much.

"Where have you been?" It was Rosie's voice calling. Fippi had reached their home, Hedgar would too, when she'd calm down. They were far too late for their planned lunch.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Taralphiel's post - Lotar and Kandel

‘My beard will get whiter waiting for that blasted scout!’ Lotar roared. Pacing to and fro, he kicked the dirt and continued fuming ‘How am I supposed to plan anything if that dolt takes his pleasant time coming back with the mapping!’

‘Its always possible that the man was attacked’ said Kandel coolly, as he leant against a tree stump. Looking up through his long hair, his tone further irked his father. ‘Is your head fullo’ rocks? Who would attack him? One of those Little Men with a pitchfork? Save me!’ Lotar stopped as a young man heaved into the clearing. ‘Lotar sir’ he heaved ‘There be little defense on the way. None actually. They’ve done practically nothing!’

‘Well, at least you tell me what I wish! Now, tell me what the scene looks like! I want every hill and knoll if this is to work! The sooner we get this, the sooner we have our own houses and fires to warm our feet by! This town will make us a pretty amount!' he said with a pleased grin. Kandel watched him and shook his head with a small laugh.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Arestevana's post - Kirima

Kirima sat against a tree. She dragged her fingers through her tangles black hair and began to tie it into a rough braid. Even this simple activity gave her something to keep her mind off—she shied away from the thought. Tying the braid off at the end, she flipped it back over her shoulder and curled up, staring at the fire.

‘My beard will get whiter waiting for that blasted scout!’

Kirima started, but it was only Lotar again. He was pacing to and fro kicking at the ground and fuming. ‘How am I supposed to plan anything if that dolt takes his pleasant time coming back with the mapping!’ he yelled. She frowned, knowing she was much too skittish these days. These days. She stood up, grabbing a pail and starting off to find water, wishing she could forget.

It took little time to find a stream, and Kirima soon returned to camp. She filled a small pan with water from the bucket, trying not to think about the house it had come from and the devastation there. Skirting awkwardly around a man sitting at the fire, she placed the pan in the coals at the fire’s edge.

Suddenly she realized that the camp was quieter than it has been when she left. Glancing around, she saw that the scout had returned and was talking quietly to Lotar and Kandel. Turning back to the fire she threw a handful of herbs into the pot. They floated there, seeming to ask, Who are you kidding? This isn’t food. She glared at the water for a moment, and then turned and sat down against a tree again, her head in her hands, wishing it were all a dream.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Tinuviel of Denton's post - Soran

Soran watched the fire in front of him and reflected on just how much his life had changed. Not too long ago he had been a prosperous farmer, and now he was an outlaw and a bandit. How Laira would have laughed. That sent him off into another trend of melacholy, thinking about his lovely wife.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed Lotar's rampage, even though the man almost tripped over him. Of course, most of them were used to Lotar's furies by now, and didn't pay them any notice anymore. The poor fellow who'd gone scouting was new to the group, probably another of the Witch-King's victims. He didn't talk much, unless in a reply to direct questions. None of them asked about his family; it was understood that such things would be shared only if invited. Soran was only half-listening to Lotar rant and rave until the scout came back.

‘Lotar sir’ he heaved ‘There be little defense on the way. None actually. They’ve done practically nothing!’

‘Well, at least you tell me what I wish! Now, tell me what the scene looks like! I want every hill and knoll if this is to work! The sooner we get this, the sooner we have our own houses and fires to warm our feet by! This town will make us a pretty amount!'

His ears ed up and he thought almost dreamily about having a house of his own again. He would have to turn tradesman, of course, there was no room for a farm in a town...never mind. He was a bandit, and this Bree-town would likely turn into a haven for his kind, with few respectable people if any at all. Still, a home would be nice.

A chill gust of wind broke his concentration, and he pulled the half-shredded cloak closer around him, temporarily forgetting about the thought of a house in the future in absorbtion of his discomfort in the present.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Eruantalon's post - Rudgar

"Shhhhhh be quiet," Rudgar baited his two friends.

"We are being quiet!" they replied in an angry whisper.

The chicken house was twenty yards away. It was late and the farmer was sleeping, hopefully vary hard. The three companions moved quietly together. "Now you too stay here and watch out for me. Alright?" The two shook their heads in agreement.

All three hunched over trying to hide in plain sight. Rudgar moved without a sound and then entered the little house. There were plenty of fat chickens there. Lots of good eggs. He would have dinner and breakfast in one shot.

Let's see, there you go into the bag. Yes, you too, and you, and you. I'll fill this bag up tonight and come back with another tomorrow if all goes well, he thought to himself.

Now to get out of here safely. He opened the door quietly and saw the face of the farmer there in front of him. "Hello there, sir, and good night to you." Clunk went the flat of the sword on the farmer's head.

It seemed the farmer had slipped past his friends from behind. The man was going in to get a snack of eggs it seemed, since he had a sack with him and a frying pan. Yet,those two idiots with me never even saw him. What were they doing and why had they let him get by?

Rudgar grinned. No eggs for you, Mister Farmer. Just a good solid whack on the head. Good thing I'm a quick clunker. No one ever gets the drop on me.

He chuckled to himself as he walked out. His friends seemed shocked to see him as he turned on them angrily, "That old coot walked right past you. Your eyes must be going bad." He looked at them in disbelief.

When his village had been attacked, Rudgar had gone off on his own and kept away from the main party of the refugees. He had just lent his services to some locals from Bree that had lost their home. He'd met them on the road. Now they almost got him hurt. They would be going hungry if it wasn't for him. Of course, he took most of the chickens and eggs for himself, but that was beside the point. He was hired by these people to get them something to eat.

"You were too scared to take on an old farmer now, weren't you?" He yelled at them.
"You hid behind the chicken house while he came out. You saw the frying pan and got scared, didn't you?"

I've got to get into the company of better thieves, he thought. Maybe I will join up with the party of scouts who are camped out not too far from Bree. I can't go around like this with farmers for the rest of my life. I will join up with my own people again. It's just too hard to do things this way.

He walked them back to the deserted shack where they now lived, smiling all the way. "What's got you in such a good mood? What you smilin' about, eh?" they questioned.

"Just the chance of better things with better thieves that I know of around here." Then he walked off into the night, heading for the scout's camp. He wanted a chance at big-time loot and maybe they could get it by working together.

[ September 30, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth, Proprietor of the Pony

Heaving an audible sigh, Andreth lowered her lanky frame into the cushioned chair that sat next to the hearth, kicking off her shoes and wriggling her toes to sooth the painful cramp in her arch. Her aching feet were the least of her problems. The day had been filled with tumult and confusion, with one minor upset following another in rapid succession: too many guests requesting accomodations and not enough willing to share beds, plus a newly hired maid who insisted on burning the toast and another who'd dumped an entire flagon of ale onto one of Bree's most prominent burghurs. Added to that was the endless stream of youngsters tearing in and out of the common room all afternoon, including that ill-tempered Will Farroweed, whom she'd chased out with a broom several times.

Worse still had been the report brought by the Ranger who spoke of outsiders camped not far from Bree routinely accosting travellers on the road and contemplating an attack on the town. A bitter memory tugged at her heart. Andreth involuntarily shuddered recalling that it was just such folk who'd been responsible for the death of her husband Bercil scarcely a year before. What the outlaws actually intended to do was beyond her knowing. But she sincerely hoped they would pack up their belongings and continue walking down the roadway. No good would come of it. In a time of dearth, there was simply nothing left to share.

Andreth stared down at the firepit as if transfixed; the leaping flames had turned to dust leaving behind a soft mound of silver-grey ash still framed in a halo of orange sparks. Random thoughts drifted in and out of her mind, snatches of conversations overheard while she'd tended bar or helped the maids serve the meals. As proprietor of the Pony, she was privy to a host of secrets spoken in half-hushed tones between friends and family who gathered at the Inn to exchange views on the news of the day.

Today, she had gotten an earful. Those who'd come to gossip and eat had been uniformly negative in their assessment, not only about the bandits but also the proclamation that Breelanders attend a meeting that evening and cooperate with the hobbits in devising a plan for the defense of the city.

Andreth had not heard a single adult Breelander voice support for that idea. The only exception had been little Kari, Alvinac's daughter, who'd recently borrowed her book on hobbits, an old volume Bercil had picked up on his constant travels through the countryside while gathering provisions for the Inn.

Even Harald and Minastan had been negative in their appraisals. While the words of the Mayor and Ranger were considerably more moderate than others she'd heard that day, their overall assessment was basically the same: they regarded hobbits as a nuisance at best, an unwanted drain when every resource was desperately needed to defeat the double threat of drought and possible outlaw attack. She wondered who was responsible for the measure suggesting that the Big and Little Folk cooperate. If not Minastan, then perhaps the hobbit Ranger who'd come along with him or some other senior Ranger, perhaps one of the direct descendents of the Edain.

Her own views were still not fixed. She'd had little contact with hobbits other than her polite conversation with Mausi earlier that day and the times she'd served them half-pints in the Inn in exchange for their hard earned pennies. She'd never regarded herself as a defender of hobbits, yet something inside wondered if it was fair to judge a people wholly by their outward appearance, and whether they might not have more to offer than other folk supposed.

As Andreth leaned back and closed her eyes trying to shut out the weariness of the day, she heard the tolling of the 8 o'clock curfew bell that signalled the closing of the gates for the night. Her face registered sudden surprise as she jumped up hastily from the chair and threw a shawl over her shoulders, heading for the door. The meeting was to have begun a half hour before. In her pointless musings, she'd totally forgotten that.

With a final glance at Edmund to make certain he was asleep, Andreth ran out into the street and sprinted towards the market square where the assembly was to take place under an array of burning torches. She was only a block away when she guessed that everything was not as it should be. This was no dignified meeting of the city council or even the friendly citizens' gatherings that she'd frequented half a dozen times. Even from this distance, she could hear the clear sounds of argument and disagreement.

Entering the square, Andreth could see the hobbits had been constricted into a very small space at the rear of the plaza. Their numbers were fewer than she would normally have thought. But then no one had remembered that, because the curfew bell had tolled, none of those attending the meeting from outlying towns would be allowed to leave Bree till the morning, and would need to find places to sleep with friends or even outside on the streets. The Inn was full and there was no room for more visitors. In any case, preference would naturally have been given to the Big Folk.

Whatever personal views Harald and Minastan held, the two men were now chiefly occupied in placating the more vehement speakers in the crowd who were voicing their opposition in no uncertain terms. Andreth had the strangest feeling that very few were thinking seriously about the bandits and their threat. Rather, the main focus of disagreement now seemed to be the hobbits themselves, and whether or not they were deemed worthy to work alongside the other residents of Bree. For some reason she could not fully understand, Andreth went over and stood at Mausi's shoulder, although feeling very uncomfortable, as she listened to the pointed grumblings of her fellow Breelanders.

[ October 03, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Berilac said, nodding his head at Mausi, ‘I would like to leave early enough to take a quick look along the inner perimeter of the hedge . . . while it’s still light out, and while I have time before the meeting.’

Mausi smiled at him, telling him to leave his dishes - that they would clear up when they were through. There was a general clamor from the youngsters, Ella, Mondy, and Kali, wanting to go with him. ‘You promised!’ cried Kali, shoving his bowl and spoon from him, and jumping down from his chair.

Berilac crouched down by the youngster and drew him closer with an arm round his shoulders. Kali’s arms were crossed tight across his chest, his body stiff with perceived injustice. ‘I did promise, my friend. And I intend to follow through on it.’ He looked the lad squarely in the eye. ‘And I intend to hold you to your promise.’ ‘And you. And you also,’ he said, his gaze tracking each of the two children still seated at the table. ‘Tomorrow, when there is plenty of light, I want to see all the places in the hedge you can get through.’

Kali’s body relaxed against him, his brown eyes scanning the Ranger’s face for any sign of grown-up deceit. He spit a little in his palm and held it out to Berilac. ‘You swear?’

With an equally serious expression on his face, Berilac spit on his palm and grasped the little Hobbit’s hand, giving it a firm shake. ‘Well, then, that’s taken care of, don’t you think?’ asked Berilac, scooting the lad, with a firm pressure to his back, toward his chair. Kali nodded and clambered back on the seat. Mollified, the youngster took up his spoon and was soon again engaged in finishing up his soup.

~*~

‘Did you teach him that?’ asked a grinning Berilac of his brother, once they were out of sight of the table. Rosco had excused himself, saying he would just walk him to the door. ‘I can remember many a boyhood pact sworn to and sealed like that between us!’ Rosco said nothing, only grinned back and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. He cautioned his younger brother to be careful as he wandered about, then waved him off as he strode down the lane toward the borders of the town.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He had worked his way slowly from the northern end of the hedge to just beyond the West Gate when the light began to fail, the sun sliding beneath the rim of the world, slipping down behind the crest of the hedge. He was disconcerted by what he’d seen in just that small segment. But, if truth be told, what dismayed him more, were the looks of disgust and sometimes loathing he encountered and the remarks, some quiet, some loud that were made as he passed.

The Hobbits in Bree were pressed in on two sides – before them the outlaws, behind them the town-folk. It was no wonder to him that many might see the frightening face of an enemy whenever they saw one of the Big Folk.

Still, he reasoned, this was now their home. Defend it they must. Ideally that would be in tandem with the other townfolk, as equals who shared the same concerns for the safety of their community. But if push came to shove, then they would work separately for the same goal. There was no other choice, he acknowledged grimly. Their blood would run just as easily and freely, their deaths come just as surely when the outlaws came.

It was with these thoughts he came to the square where the meeting was being held. The torches were lit, throwing the features of the angry faces of the Big Folk into sharp relief. The Hobbits were thronged into a small area at the back of the greater crowd, hemmed in by the press of Big Folk who had come to give their views. They were quiet, crowded close together, drawn back as they could from any contact with the vociferous and jostling mass.

Berilac positioned himself on the stone seat of one of the benches at the back of the plaza. Standing there, he could keep watch on the contact between the small Hobbit group and the Men. And see the happenings at the front of the gathering. He leaned almost casually on his bow, as if it were a staff. His eyes flicked here and there, assessing the rhythms of the crowd’s movements; his ears alert to the sounds of increasing anger and resentment.

[Novnarwen]

Rosie soon calmed down. In fact, she wasn't all that angry with him. She understood quickly this important matter. Hedgar, himself though, thought this, was of no importance whatsoever. Big Folk, who were rude and arrogant, working with hobbits? Could that work? No, never, Hedgar told himself. The Big Folk are untrustworthy and want only to fool us, hobbits. Yes, he knew that. Of course he did. "How can you really trust something that big?" Hedgar asked. His voice was serious, but you could sense his use of sarcasm, when he spoke. Rosie shook her head. "Do you always have to be so suspicious? They have never done you any harm." Fippi sat on the other side of the table, following the conversation. "No harm?" Hedgar replied, nodding at Fippi. " No harm?" he repeated. Fippi gazed at his mother. saying: "They said horrible things, you know."

"Okay," Rose said after a while. "We are certainly not discussiong this. When we are in such a stuation, we are expected to help, whoever, we must be in lead with" she continued determined. "Therefore, make yourselves ready, we are going. And Fippi, wash your face." Hedgar gave a sigh, no way he was getting out of this one. "Ai, mother," he muttered, rising from the table. He took a piece of bread before he left their little kitchen.

__________________________________________________ __________________

Fippi ran in the front humming to himself, like he always did. "Hedgar, try to be positive, will you? This can be a big step for all of us. We have the chance to start a real friendly relationship with the Big Folk. It can be useful." Hedgar didn't answer at once. In a way, he was kind of disappointed, the Big Folk couldn't be trusted, so what made Rosie believe they could? She was a 'Big-Folk lover', no doubt about that. "Time will show you..." he started. "These big footed people, cannot be trusted now, or any other time." said he. She looked at him, staring into his eyes. "Is that someting you truly believe?"

Hedgar didn't get the chance to answer, she walked so fast, getting a grip of Fippi who was just about to climb a tree. "Come on," she called, dragging him by his shirt. Hmm, Hedgar thought. She might drag me to the meeting as well.

At the Square two groups were formed; The Little ones and The Big ones.
"Alright, after you m'lady," he said sarcasticly to Rosie. No way he was going first. Rosie ignored him and made her way through a crowd and reserved a spot for Fippi and Hedgar. The Hobbit man gazed upon these big folk, standing there in the front, tall and with their heads high; like they were owning the world. The Hobbits however, stood in the back, hardly getting noticed by the Big Folk.

“Breelanders all!” one of the Big folk said loudly.. “Calm yourselves and listen to the Rangers! Then you shall be heard too.”

"Heard? We? Small Hobbits? Ha... " Hedgar muttered.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Chathol-linn]

Harald the Mayor

Halimath’s cool breezes blew across the market square. How different it looked under the wavering light of the torches, Harald thought. How different was the crowd. The busy, merry marketers of the day were gone and in their places stood dark shapes shouting contention and distrust.

The mayor leaned close to his friend, Bree’s Captain of Guards. “We must get some order here,” he said. Then he got his first unpleasant surprise of the evening. Telien smelled of beer. And he laughed as if at a jest.

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” he said. “You are the mayor.”

Was Telien not taking this seriously? Then a powerful realization hit Harald. It was stronger than the sure knowledge of his mother’s death. The past was past; the times when Telien’s sporting could be accepted were gone; the job that was supposed to be a lark had responsibilities; and he himself might not be up to them.

He stood there in the middle of the crowd, really looking this time. The small number of Hobbit men and women could hardly be seen – they were near the back. The Hobbit Ranger, Berilac, was with them. Most of the Big Folk were crowded round a table that served as the podium. He saw Elmerith, Telien’s stalwart guardsman looking disgruntled as usual, but not drunk. He saw the miller and huge Uther, and the other Big townsfolk. He knew them all, and yet tonight he did not know them, or else he did not know himself.

The door of the Prancing Pony Inn banged open. Its proprietor, Andreth, dashed out and - another surprise - joined the Hobbits’ side of the crowd, near that Hobbit-seamstress, and Berilac. As she did, he saw Berilac and the other Ranger, Minastan, watching him with interest.

Harald spent one more moment trying to decide if it was fear or fascination that he felt. Then he decided it didn’t matter, and he leaped to the top of the table.

“Breelanders all!” he roared, now surprising himself. “Calm yourselves and listen to the Rangers! Then you shall be heard too.”

He motioned to Minastan and then to Berilac. Berilac looked up expectantly but did not move. Harald waited to see if the crowd would let Minastan, or anyone, talk.

[Taralphiel]

Lotar sat back and began to calm down more. He didnt relaise how much of a scare he'd given the boy until he watched him hastily retreat.

'Ah, Im getting too old and sour' he mumbled to himself as he planned a little more. Stretching out his limbs, he turned to his son.

'Boy, what say you take the task? Map out all that there is to see, any easy ways into this town, and easy ways out. Take the lass Kirima with you. She is a swift one, and should be able to help you quite a bit!'

Waving him out, he turned to the man hunched in the tent.

'You seem to be suffering from the cold Soran my friend. What say we take a walk down the by-roads? We may find some things of warmth there' he said with a small smile.

~*~

Kandel moved out through the camp, fingers tapping lightly on his sword hilt.He had wanted to protest with his father about the job. He knew his skills were better with the sword, and that other work was much more suitable. But he also knew Lotar's moods, and what not to cross with, so he bit his lip. Smoothing back his hair a little, he proceeded to look for Kirima

It was not long before he found the girl. 'Good day' he said with a smile 'Weve been assigned to head to the town for mapping. I suppose you'll be wanting to head out now?'

[Orofaniel]

Rosie & Family

Hedgar has always this negative attitude when it comes to Big Folk, Rosie thought as they arrived at the twon Square. It was crowdy, and both Hobbits and Big Folk were gathered. Rosie had never seen that many people in the Square before, or she'd never noticed that it could be that crowdy.

“Breelanders all!” one of the Big folk said loudly as they found a nice spot where they had a good view on what was going on in the front there. “Calm yourselves and listen to the Rangers! Then you shall be heard too.”

"Heard? We? Small Hobbits? Ha... " Hedgar muttered. "I heard that," Rosie said sharply looking at her husband with great eyes. "Can't you try to be a bit positive towards all of this for once?" She asked him, trying not to sound too angry, even though she could feel her temper rising slightly.

"I am, I am....But.." Hedgar said, but Rosie interrupted. "No but!" She said stern looking at her son, Fippi. "Is this the way you want to raise your son? I mean, let him think that all Big Folk are..." She continued, but this time Hedgar interrupted her. "No o'course it isn't," he lied.

"Let’s just hear 'em out, alright?" Rosie said while one of the Big Folk was trying to continue with his 'speech'.

[ October 04, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Arestevana]

Kirima left her spot at the base of the tree and began to wander aimlessly away from camp. Suddenly she heard a step behind her. She turned, half expecting to see an angry villager with a sword. What was it Lotar had said? Little Men with pitchforks? Kirima shuddered. They sounded horribly like orcs. It was only Kandel though. She sighed, wishing she might stop imagining vicious attackers at every noise.

'Good day' the man said, smiling. 'We've been assigned to head to the town for mapping. I suppose you'll be wanting to head out now?'

Mapping? for a moment Kirima could make no sense of the statement. Then she remembered that they were attacking this settlement called Bree. Of course their leaders would want accurate maps of the area. She turned to Kandel and nodded, then followed him toward the town.

She thought for a moment of going back to camp to fetch parchment and charcoal. Then she realized that it was too dark to use such tools accurately. Darkness was setting in as they reached the town, and they moved quietly, examining outer defenses and committing them to memory.

As she walked, Kirima spotted a place where the dike surrounding the town had collapsed and filled in. She stepped experimentally over the makeshift bridge it formed, then ran back across. She found several other similar crossing points and tested their strength. Then she crossed at one of these places and began examining the hedge running adjacent to the dike. She soon found an opening here as well.

A shadow fell across the gap. Pressing herself against the hedge, Kirima saw a small dark figure walk past on the far side. It walked along the hedge until it was well past the West gate, then retreated into the darkness.

Again Kirima peered through the hedge. She noted many darkened buildings, thrown into sharp relief by the light streaming from torches around the town square. Many people seemed to be crowded into the space, and their voices could be heard over the distance. A meeting! These villagers were preparing defense after all! She ran back across the dike and beckoned to Kandel.

They crossed dike and edged through the hedge, slipping silently between buildings to reach the meeting place. Krirma moved ever slower as she neared the circle of light. Keeping to shadows, she moved behind a nearby building and out of sight. She could still hear the speakers well though, and settled down to listen.

[ October 05, 2003: Message edited by: Arestevana ]

[Beren87]

"People of Bree!" Minastan's exclamation thundered out towards the crowd. His echoing voice silenced them little in the expanse of the marketplace, but he continued on. "I come to you now with most perilous of news. As some of you already know, there is at this time, a band of maruading wildmen camped within a day's walk of your bold city gates! We rangers, protectors of your lands for time untold, have agreed that this is a threat we are all forced to face." His last words silenced the crowd as he bowed his head, but the effect lasted few moments; soon the square was erupt with a gross of voiced calling out from every side.

"Citizens! Citizens!" The mayor called out futilely to the crowd. Minastan waved the bumbler off with a slight gesture of hand. "Fair people of Bree, Big and Little Folk alike." The tone of his voice sliced through the yelling uproar.

"We've now no other option but to prepare for the coming hoard! There is no escape from this peril that threatens not only your homes, but your very way of life! They will overrun your lands, they will burn your homes, and they will slaughter your children! The only way stopping them is to fight back! We must fight against this menace!" He stepped back from the crowd as he stopped speaking. There were buzzes and whispers among them, none of which could be caught by his ears.

So effective was his speech that even the Mayor seemed to pale as he bellowed, though Minastan was sure he knew of the situation. They crowd seemed half dumbfounded, half angered by his remarks, though he knew them all to be true.

"So what do you suggest, Ranger?" The raised voice from the crowd called out, the last word rolling in contempt.

He paused for a moment, then spoke loudly in response. "Only this..," pausing for dramatic effect, a twinkle in his eye, "that we band together to face this oncoming danger!"

[ October 05, 2003: Message edited by: Beren87 ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Alvinac

Alvinac stood near the front of the crowd with a grim expression. This talk of fighting and battle joyed him, but the thought of his precious daughter and her life brought a chill to his spine. 'Stay near me,' he had told her, but the miller knew that Kari was a rebel. He tried to concentrate on the Mayor and Minastan, but his thoughts kept drifting to the death of his father. Alvinac, seventeen at the time, saw the plow fall onto his father's head, killing him instantly.

Then, thoughts of his dear Genevieve strayed into his mind. He couldn't imagine loosing another member of his already small family.

~*~

Kari

Kari ran up to Andreth, who was standing uncomfortably next to a hobbit she had seen somewhere before. "Hullo Ms. Andreth!" She laughed, holding up a flower.

"My father said ta give this ta you." She handed it up, smiling as wide as she could and proudly displaying her coppery hair.

She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an average sized blue book. "Here's your book on Hobbits. Father said ta give it back." Her smiled disappeared, and she pushed the book toward Andreth.

[ October 05, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Esgallhugwen]

Poppy sat on a stool at the back of the crowd with little Lily bouncing up and down on her knee, she paused for a moment and concentrated on the Ranger's words. "That we band together to face this oncoming danger!" A rucuss broke out in the crowd, how could these people band together if they cannot even be tolerable of each other?

Poppy shook her head, the dark curls tickling Lily's face; Lily errupted in little giggles that seemed to echo throughout the clear air. "Hush, little Lily, we have to listen to the big man, it is important!" she spoke gently so no Hobbits would hear her talking kindly about the Big Folk.

The noise didn't seem to die down, it was mingled with fear, rage, and aggitation. Poppy sighed and wished that either side could learn not to be so terribly stubborn and block headed.

Poppy stood up with Lily clutching to her hand "no", Lily insisted. "Now, now Lily the big Folk won't hurt you, I'll protect you, no need to fret" Lily looked and nodded nervously keeping very close to Poppy as she inched her way to the front of the crowd. She burried her face into Poppy's dress.

The people at the front which didn't seem too big at the back were now towering over the two small hobbits. Poppy gave a tiny smile, craning her head up to look at them; some smiled back while others sneered.

[ October 05, 2003: Message edited by: Esgallhugwen ]

[ October 08, 2003: Message edited by: Esgallhugwen ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

As Kari reluctantly pressed the book into Andreth's hands, the Innkeeper looked down and intently studied the girl's face. Despite the brave smile, the girl's expression told a different story: her lips were quivering and eyes downcast as she fought to hold back tears. Andreth did not have to speak with Alvinac to guess what had happened.

Kari's father was a decent man, one of the finest in all of Bree, who would never wish harm on anyone, either the Big or Little Folk. But he was also an extremely cautious man who'd had more than his share of loss and suffering. One thing was certain: he would protect his daughter at any cost. And if he saw his fellow Breelanders angry at the hobbits, he was not about to let her read a book about them or their customs. Who knows what would happen if someone might find her doing that?

Andreth slipped the volume back into her pocket and leaned over to whisper into Kari's ear, "Don't worry. I'll speak with your father to have you come see me tomorrow afternoon, and we'll read some stories together, from this and many others books. And, perhaps, just perhaps, you may get to meet a hobbit lad."

The girl's eyes widened and the gleem of a real smile slipped over her young face. Kari nodded her approval and was about to leave when Andreth hastily reached over and tapped her shoulder, "Kari, one more thing.... You might not want to mention anything about a hobbit lad. We don't want to get your father upset. And I'm truly not sure if I can get the lad to come."

Kari grinned in understanding as Andreth watched her melt into the crowd and make her way back towards her father. The Innkeeper quickly slipped into her own reflections. What earthly use could she be at this meeting? She had no experience with battle strategy or the ways of outlaws. She had enough common sense to know that they should all pitch in together to mend the hedge and dyke. She sincerely hoped someone else would suggest that, since her own preference was to stay quiet at this gathering..... stay quiet and then privately go about with the little things she actually had some skill in doing.

The hostility she'd seen at the meeting had given her a rude awakening. Unless a few folk took a quiet stand, the town was apt to devolve into two warring factions with nothing of real worth getting done. And what was the best way to start working towards that understanding? Surely it should begin with the children. The children who would then go home to their parents and subtly influence their own attitudes.

The late afternoon was a relatively quiet time at the Inn with the luncheon serving cleared away, the nightime guests not yet checking in, and the Cook busy preparing for dinner. It was a perfect time for her to gather together a few children in one of the empty storage rooms and do a bit of simple reading and figures. There were plenty of empty rooms around with provisions still so scarce!

She'd make a point of talking with a few of the other parents to have their children come and perhaps she could persuade Mausi to do the same among the hobbit families. She'd make sure to keep the rudest children out of it, certainly that obnoxious Will who was such a troublemaker. And perhaps, just to begin with, she wouldn't mention to the Breelanders that there would also be hobbit children coming to the school. No use to mention such an obvious thing and, after all, she wasn't even sure the hobbits would agree to come. Of course, she'd tell Mausi about the children of the Big Folk. But then, that was different....

Andreth turned to Mausi and began explaining about the small afternoon school, asking if she knew any hobbit youngsters who might enjoy coming and learning a few letters and numbers.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orofaniel]

Rosie & Family (Hedgar and Fippi)

Rosie and her husband listened carefully of what was told. Their son didn't seem to be interested in what was going on. It wasn't hard to understand either, he was only eight. Fippi clutched himself to his mother. Rosie had told him to do so, so that she wouldn't loose him in the crowd. Such things happen, son, she had said.

Now and then people around them gave short nods and signs. Some seemed to have a negative attitude about all of this, including her own husband Hedgar, of course. Rosie however, couldn't understand that. But there were others who seemed to have a positive attitude to this as well, something that pleased Rosie.

As the evening came, creeping over them, there was confusion and anger. It was something about the torches.

Suddenly a hobbit fellow, probably in his early four ties with dark blond hair, jumped in front of them. Rosie made a hard grip on Hedgar and her son. He then asked the hobbits next to them if they would help set up some more torches. Hedgar, as the kind man he is, volunteered. Before Hedgar excused himself from his family, Rosie gave a short nod as a sign that he should take care, and that she and Fippi would wait for him on this very spot. Hedgar kissed Rosie's cheek as he left, and clapped his young son on the head. Fippi waved as his father left.

~*~

While Hedgar was gone, putting up some more torches, Rosie and her son started to feel cold. Rosie had forgotten to bring Fippi his warm cloak, and of pure guilt she got them out from the crowd, heading for the Inn. The purpose was to get inside so that they could get a bit of warmth in their cold bodies.

Rosie opened the door, and entered. It was only a couple of people inside, everyone else were still outside in the town Square. They seated in front of the fire, and lifted their hands against it. What a wonderful feeling, Rosie thought.

"How are you feeling now, Fippi?" Rosie asked after they had been sitting there for a couple of minutes. "I'm doing alright now." Fippi answered politely while he smiled.

"So, are you ready to go out again?" Rosie asked him smiling back at him.
"Yes," Fippi answered shortly getting up from his chair.

Rosie got up and took her sons hand. Both of them were now feeling much better as they had gained some of their warmth they had lost while standing outside. As soon as the got to the town Square they found the very same spot, after pushing themselves through the crowd.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘Breelanders All!’

Berilac heard the cry go up from someone in the crowd. Someone up front. The mayor, he thought. Darkness had fallen thick and fast. There were not enough torches to keep it from creeping into the square, and most of them were up front where the Big Folk were. What light there was threw the features of the crowd into an eerie relief. Anger, confusion, disbelief, rippled across the faces of the gathering when they turned his way, and the light from the single torch behind him picked out their momentary expressions . . .all these . . . and sometimes fear.

He jumped down from the bench he stood on and asked a few of the Hobbit men to give him a hand to plant a few more torches in the back area where the Hobbits were gathered. One of them, a thin fellow with thinning hair volunteered. The Hobbit seemed eager to be away from the press of people. He excused himself from his wife and son and followed after Berilac.

The fellow introduced himself as Hedgar as they walked to where the small pile of extra torches were stacked. Berilac responded in kind, and asked Hedgar about his family and what did he think about the Men and Hobbits being able to work together. Before Hedgar could reply, Berilac asked him quickly if he could take over organizing putting the torches up at the back of the square. He had seen something that else that needed taking care of.

Threading their way carefully to the front of the crowd were two Hobbits, one a young woman the other a small child. He followed after them, making sure they were not overwhelmed in the crush of Big Folk bodies. They inched their way to the front of the crowd, the freckle faced young Hobbit woman holding tight to the hand of the little one. The little girl buried her face in the older Hobbit’s dress. She was frightened. It was an expression he had seen on many of the Hobbits’ faces, just as anger shadowed with disgust was the expression most seen on the faces of the Men.

Berilac knelt down by the little Hobbit. Lily, he had heard the other call her. ‘Your daughter?’ he asked the older Hobbit as she raised her green eyes to him. ‘She’s lovely.’ He smiled at Lily, saying he had a little girl at home. ‘Will you two be alright up here?’ he asked.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Child's post: Mausi

Mausi listened carefully as Andreth hastily outlined her hopes and dreams for the small school that would meet most afternoons in one of the Inn's empty storage rooms. Andreth reached out and cradled the hobbit's hand in her own, "I know this can make a difference. How can folk trust each other when they haven't spent time together? They're just afraid of what they don't know. If the children learn from each other, their parents will see that and begin to understand."

There was no doubt Andreth sincerely believed what she was saying: that it was a simple matter to bring Big and Little Folk together and get them to cooperate. Mausi was not so sure. She'd had too many insults flung in her path and seen the look of hurt on her own children's faces when they met up with a prankster who saw no reason why hobbits weren't fair game.

Still, part of her wanted to believe, to find some way the Big and Little Folk could learn from each other and live as neighbors in peace. Before, that had seemed like a distant dream incapable of realization. Each of the peoples had gone about their own lives ignoring the other as much as they could. But now, with the urgency created by the outlaws and the news of their threatened attack, what had been a dream was fast becoming a necessity. Without cooperation, her own children and Andreth's son could perish in a holocaust not of their making. To put it in stark and uncompromising terms, either the hobbits and the Big Folk could learn to live together or each of them would surely perish on their own.

She looked over at Andreth and, almost against her will, nodded her head in agreement, "Yes, Kali has been asking me to learn to read. I think he might enjoy something like this. And if Ella and Mondy can add and subtract columns of figures, they can teach the hobbit craftsmen and peddlers how to keep track of their money and goods, and make sure not to get cheated. And I will get a few of the other families to send their sons and daughters as well."

With that, Andreth and Mausi shook their hands on the bargain, and the Innkeeper said her goodbyes to the hobbit to go search for Alvinac and discuss the matter further.

[ October 09, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar didn't take heed to what was said, he was more busy having a little 'father vs son' fight with Fippi. Hedgar's son gave a short laugh when he hit his father in his stomach. In Fippi's slender arm there weren't exactly mucles yet. Therefore, it didn't really hurt. Hedgar in fact, could hardly feel it.

Hedgar noticed a little Hobbit jumping down from a bench. He came towards Hedgar, who was still 'fighting' with his son. Fippi stopped looking up at his father then turning his head to this stranger.

Hedgar gave a nod, introducing himself. "Berilac here," the Hobbit replied with a big smile around his face.

"This is your family?" Berliac asked. Hedgar nodded again. He got his wife attention, introducing herself, also. It was hard getting her to other thoughts when she had been here, Hedgar had noticed. After all, she was very excited about this. "Fippi," Their son said, without any further information. "That's my boy," Hedgar assured Berliac proudly.

As they stood talking, Berliac wondered how Hedgar and his wife felt about the fact that the Big Folk and The Hobbits were to work together. Hedgar was just about yo express his feelings towards this, but wasn't able to, because of this man's sudden question. "Could you take over, organizing; putting the torches up at the back of the Square?" Hedgar agreed and Fippi wanted to follow, but Rosie insisted on having him with her.

Carefully they: Hedgar and Barliac, walked to the very front of the crowd. So many Big Folks, Hedgar thought stepping as hard as he could on one of The Big Folk's foot. He won't notice me anyway, Hedgar thought. He was right too, the man didn't even look down.

"Okay, we need ore torches in the back!" Barliac announced. He pointed towards the direction where Hedgar's son and wife stood. "I'll do it," Hedgar answered, taking unlightened torches in his hands.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Kari & Alvinac

Kari pushed her way through men, trying anxiously to get to her father. "Father! Father!" She grabbed Alvinac's tunic and tugged. "Father!"

Alvinac turned around and looked his daughter in the eyes. "What Karianne? I'm trying to listen to the Mayor!"

His daughter recoiled, trying to avoid eye contact with the aggitated Alvinac. "Ms. Andreth is gonna let me come over tomorrow afternoon and read some books with 'er! Can I?" Her expectant eyes widened as she crossed her legs and smiled.

Alvinac narrowed his eyes and replied softly, "Who will be there?" His voice could barely be heard over the rucus.

"Just some other children. Ms. Andreth said she was gonna talk ta you 'bout it though."

The miller started shoving through the crowd, toward the back. "Where is Andreth?"

Kari grimaced and followed her father. "In the back, with tha'..." her voice lowered. "Hobbits."

Alvinac grabbed the girls hand and pushed farther, getting a few curses from Mortals around them. "I'll talk to her." Kari smiled and nodded, disapearing with her father.

[ October 06, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Esgallhugwen]

Poppy laughed slightly at Berilac for thinking that Lily was her daughter. "oh, no she isn't, she's my neighbor, her Mom passed away you see, so I took it upon myself to look after her; yes she is quite the bundle of cuteness, isn't she?" Lily looked up at the other Hobbit and smiled with her big blue eyes.

"Thank you for coming up here to see that we don't get crushed, but I think we'll survive, your welcome to stay if you like but I think your family would want you to come back" she smiled warmly at Berilac, the bright torch giving her green eyes even more of a shimmer.

Poppy was about to go back herself to see how Mungo was doing when he came out of the dark crowd and gave her a pat on the shoulder. She gave a startled gasp than laughed and gave her grandpa a mischievious stare.

"This here is my grandpa Mungo Goldworthy, he may look a bit old, but he's as young as anything" Mungo laughed his usual lazy way. "Now Poppy, my dear don't be going and telling all the folk such tales, I'm not as young as I used to be... how's Little Lily doing among these here Big Folk?"

Lily looked up triumphantly and said she wasn't afraid, but her hand still held tightly to Poppy's.

[Taralphiel]

Kandel slid up beside Kirima, and listened along with her. A crowd, alomost all of the town had gathered for some sort of meeting. Kandel was not sure he liked what was happening.

“People of Bree!"

"I come to you now with most perilous of news. As some of you already know, there is at this time, a band of maruading wildmen camped within a day's walk of your bold city gates! We rangers, protectors of your lands for time untold, have agreed that this is a threat we are all forced to face."

Kandel balled his fist. 'I knew this wouldnt be good' he whispered to Kirima. She looked like she understood exactly

He observed the man that spoke, and by his dress, and his accent, he took him as a Ranger. His father would not be pleased with this news.

"We've now no other option but to prepare for the coming hoard! There is no escape from this peril that threatens not only your homes, but your very way of life! They will overrun your lands, they will burn your homes, and they will slaughter your children! The only way stopping them is to fight back! We must fight against this menace!"

Kandel raised an eyebrow 'I'd hardly go that far' he scoffed, but Kirima didnt see the humour in it at all.

He wasted no more time eavesdropping, but moved qickly off. Once they were a fair distance away, Kandel relaxed a little.

'Those Breefolk seem way to nervy for my liking' Kandel said with a small smile Kirima's way. He was about to make another joke when Kirima turned to him...

~*~

Lotar trudged along the main Bree road, with Soran not far behind. He tried to keep jovial for his friends' sake. He noticed he was not in the happiest of times, and was suffering.

Lotar spread an almost cat-like grin across his face when he saw an aged halfling slowly making guiding his cart down the road. Picking up his stride, he made an almost mocking greeting when he approached the old hobbit, stopping the cart with ease.

'My my, what is a gentleman like yourself doing out here on such a cold night?' The hobbit's face fell, and Lotar saw him calculating what he would do next.

'We mean you no harm Mr Hobbit, as long as you have something we need. Youe see, weve had naught to feed our bellies in this cold for many a night. Would you happen to have a crumb of something in that pack of yours?' Without waiting for a response, he reached behind him and opened the flap off the pack of the hobbit and rifled through till he found a small loaf of hard bread.

'Thanking ye kindly for yoru generosity. I wouldnt think to take all you have good sir, so I'll be leaving you now' and with that strooled further down the path towards the town.

Soran hadn't said a word the whole time. Lotar watched him catch up and offered him a chunk of the bread. It was then that he broke his silence...

[ October 10, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Arestevana]

Kirima sat, listening to the talk of the townfolk. She heard Kandel come up beside her. On the other side of building, a voice rose above the others.
"People of Bree!"
The voice continued, telling the Breelanders of the threat. Next to her Kandel whispered 'I knew this wouldnt be good.' A similar thought had been running through Kirima's own mind. She grimaced.

Kandel peered around the edge of the building that hid them, watching the speaker.
"We've now no other option but to prepare for the coming hoard! There is no escape from this peril that threatens not only your homes, but your very way of life! They will overrun your lands, they will burn your homes, and they will slaughter your children! The only way stopping them is to fight back! We must fight against this menace!"

Kandel drew back, raising an eyebrow 'I'd hardly go that far' he smirked. Kirima froze, horrified. Slaughter the children? Children? She had not expected there to be children. This was a settlement of vicious hillmen, was it not? Realization struck her. Could this be only a village full of innocent people? She followed Kandel away from the square. They stopped when they reached a safe distance from the meeting place.

'Those Breefolk seem way to nervy for my liking' Kandel said, smiling at Kirima. He is an outlaw! How can he joke about this? She wondered. How many of his kin died? Does he feel no sorrow? Kandel grinned, about to form another joke. Kirima turned sharply, glaring at him.

"Really, Gannon! You couldn't..."
Her face went white. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Then she turned, slipping back through the hedge, and fled.
She ran toward the camp, blessing the darkness. As she neared the camp she hastily ran an arm acoss her face, brushing away tears. The camp was empty. Hearing a soft rustling of leaves, she looked up and saw a small bird in the trees above her. It chirped, seeming to mock her.
Pepin it said. Pepin, Pepin. She grabbed a small stone and threw it at the bird, causing it to fly to a higher branch, where it continued to taunt her. Kirima stood and stared at the fire, longing for her family.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth Speaks to Alvinac

As Andreth marched off intending to speak with Alivinac and Kari, she had advanced only a short distance when she glimpsed the two of them making their way towards the back of the assembly. In the background, she could hear that there were loud and impassioned speeches going on that at least focused on the threatened assault rather than the question of cooperation between the native Breelanders and the hobbits. Although relieved to find the meeting taking this new turn, Andreth found the enthusiastic cheering so intense that she could scarcely understand what Alvinac was asking her.

She tugged on Alvinac's sleeve and beckoned him and his daughter to talk by the side of the plaza where the roar of the mob was a little less obvious. Still, it was difficult to carry on a conversation.

Andreth managed to explain briefly about the afternoon school she intended to run, and how she hoped that Kari would be in attendance there. The Innkeeper had had serious second thoughts about what she would tell the parents. Despite her earlier inclination to hide the fact that hobbits would be coming, it seemed wiser to at least imply that a few of the Little Folk might occasionally drop in as well.

With this in mind, she spoke to Alvinac, reassuring him about the safety of his child, "Yes, I'll be asking the very finest of the families to send their children to the school, only the best of the Big and Little Folk. Certainly not anyone like that obnoxious Will Farroweed! I want no troublemakers there, especially those hobbits or Big Folk whom we know can never get along."

Unfortunately for Andreth, the noise of the crowd was so overbearing that several of her words and phrases were half drowned out under the recurrent rounds of applause and the enthusiastic cheers of the Breelanders. What Alvinac actually heard was something like this: Yes, I'll be asking the very finest of the families to send their children to the school, only the best of the Big Folk. Certainly not anyone like that obnoxious Will Farroweed! I want no troublemakers there, especially hobbits whom we know can never get along.

Alvinac went away happy, convinced that Andreth had enough common sense not to invite any of the hobbit children in such difficult and strained times as these. Not that he wished the hobbits any ill. Only they needed to stick with their own kind. He promised to speak with the other native Breelanders, and encourage them to send their children to the school, which sounded as if it might be a most excellent arrangement for the little ones in the neighborhood.

[ October 12, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Alvinac dragged Kari along through to streets, every once and a while stopping to look for one of his closest friends.

He saw his best friend Telmik standing toward the front of the mob with his son. Rushing toward him, Kari plugged her ears, knowing that what her father was going to say was not the whole truth.

"Oh, yes, of course Hemith can come! Kari will be there!" Alvinac beamed. Hemith, son of Telmik, blushed and bowed to Kari.

The miller continued on to tell seven more men and women of the school. Kari didn't dare tell Alvinac that there would be Hobbits at this school, for he would withdraw her for the sake of his social status. He would have to find out for himself.

[ October 12, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Eruantalon]

Rudgar caught sight of two bandits robbing a hobbit. Curiously he sat behind the clearing up the road. He recognized one of the he thought. Lotar was his name he thought. That would be the one person he was looking for. Now he had to try and talk to them.

They had gotten some bread off of the halfing. They where walking down the road now he could catch up with them quietly and quickly. Rudgar came right up from behind them and said with a calm voice. “You won’t make a good living robbing hobbits of there bread ever day.”

The two turned around surprised and almost started a scuffle if Rudgar hadn’t done what he did next. “No fighting now I know you Lotar, or at least of you.”

He was now bowing to the two bandits. “Rudgar master chicken thief at your service. I’m as stealthy as a cat. I move more quickly than a crow in flight. I can out wit the best. I can out wit the rest.”

The two looked at him now with a strange look. He knew what that meant. What in good word is this? But his little display proved that he was stealthy at least. It also shows just how clever he could be. The two relaxed a bit after his quick words. He put them at ease a little with his strange but friendly behavior.

“What is it that you want from us?”

“I don’t plan on being a chicken thief all my life! From what I’ve heard Lotar you seem to be a quick witted man. I want to find bigger things. I intend on gold and silver in my future. I believe if we worked together with each other and the bandits here. We could have a nice amount of it in our future.”

He looked at the stranger oddly. Rudgar smiled and looked present. What where they going to do now. He showed them some of his talents. He didn’t want to go back to chickens. Good at it as he was. He still wanted sacks of gold not feathers.

[piosenniel]

‘Well, then, my brave girl, I will leave these two Hobbits in your hands.’

Berilac winked at Lily, who laughed in delight. She was feeling a bit puffed up thinking about how she had been left to ‘take care’ of Poppy and Mungo.

The Hobbit Ranger stood and shook hands with Gaffer Goldworthy. ‘Pleased to meet you, sir,’ he said. ‘I hope you will offer your assistance as we get the town ready to defend against the ruffians on its outskirts.’ Berilac turned to Poppy. ‘Your words . . . about my family wanting me to come back. They’re true enough. Though my family lives many days walk east of here, still I would return shortly to them if I could.’ He smiled at her and gently tousled Lily’s hair. ‘I have a little girl, but not as old as you,’ he said looking down at the child.’ A thoughtful expression passed over his eyes. ‘I wonder, ‘ he said to Poppy and Lily, ‘I’m taking some of the children tomorrow to look at the hedge with me. They can show me all the little holes where it’s easy to crawl through, all the broken places in it. Do you think Lily might be able to come?’

Poppy looked perplexed, not wanting to answer the question right away. ‘I’ll come by tomorrow,’ Berilac said, ‘and you can tell me then.’

Berilac excused himself and went to thank Hedgar for putting up the torches. Hedgar was just on his way back to his own family. ‘You didn’t get a chance to tell me what you thought of all this,’ Berilac remarked, falling in beside him as he walked along. Hedgar filled him in on his thoughts, falling silent as they approached his wife and son. The Ranger’s eyes narrowed – the wife did not think the same way he gathered, and she seemed to have the last word in the family.

And well she should! he could just hear his sisters and even his dear wife saying gently to him.

He was chuckling as they reached Hedgar’s family and he was introduced to them. He made the same offer to Fippi’s parents about accompanying him tomorrow, saying once again that he would come in the morning and see if Fippi could come with him. ‘I know you’ll want to talk it over,’ he said to all three of them as he took his leave.
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Novnarwen's post - Hedgar

Hedgar headed towards the back of the crowd again, finally finish putting up the last torches. Actually to his own surprise, he was glad he had helped. It was such liberation for Hedgar the feeling of being of use, or in other words just; the feeling of being a little bit important was fantastic. He almost shook of happiness, but pulled himself together, reminding himself why he was here. Hobbits and Breelanders together? Hedgar thought in disgust.

"Ah, Hedgar." It was a familiar voice which rang in Hedgar's ears. He turned to greet Berliac, another hobbit.

"I see you've put the torches up," Berliac said happily. The other male hobbit nodded, pointing at the torches around in the square.

The two of them started walking. Berliac asked Hedgar yet again, how Hedgar felt about the whole idea of the Hobbits and the Breelanders working together. This time, Hedgar got to explain himself. He told his new friend about his suspiciousness and how he felt about these big footed people.

In his eager one sided conversation, Hedgar, unfortunately didn't notice the fact that the two male hobbits had moved towards the direction where Hedgar's wife and son stood. He would have stopped his argumentations earlier if he had seen his wife's horrified look given to him. Rosie gave a sigh, getting the men's attention. Hedgar who had finally stopped talking, grew ashamed. Berliac too, noticed this.

An embarrassing silence fell on them. Hedgar tried to find a topic, his head exploding with thoughts. After a few seconds he felt desperate. He could see Rosie's disappointment; her husband had gossiped about the Big Folk to a so called stranger (It didn't matter if it was a hobbit or not). This was something that Rosie felt was below her family's standards, Hedgar knew that.

The silent broke as Berliac came with quite an interesting offer, something Hedgar and Rosie knew they had to talk over first, before they could decide.
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Pio's post

Berilac inched his way back to the front of the crowd. There had been a hubbub as Minastan finished the first part of his talk and he could see the Big Folk mayor trying to calm the rising tide of loud voices and heated argument. It looked as if the mayor, Harald he reminded himself, was having the upper hand and was going to ask Minastan to speak further . . .

[ October 12, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran looked at this self-proclaimed chicken thief with distaste and a little bit of distrust. It was one thing to have turned thief when one had no other option, but it was quite another to be a thief through one's own choice. Lotar--well, Lotar was a good leader, and Soran respected him for his skills, but he wished that there was another way. He wondered sometimes if Lotar felt the same.

The chicken thief grinned saucily at the older men. Why, he couldn't be more than twenty years old, and here he was, patently more comfortable with stealing than Soran, and certainly in a better mood (though that was hardly difficult, with the black humors Soran tended to fall into lately). He was almost the age of Soran's eldest--no, he would not think of his sons. That road would only lead to despair and he had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

Lotar asked the prospective bandit a few questions, aiming to find out if he was really as good as he said he was or if it was just a youth's bragging most likely. Soran just watched. He had to admire the sheer cheek of the boy, but that didn't mean he had to agree with his morals. Of course, his own morals weren't exactly the highest quality, now were they?

"What's your name?" he asked gruffly, finally breaking the brooding silence he'd been in for most of the past few days. The boy was so young, so much like Rik...