Breelanders All! RPG

[piosenniel]

The Farroweeds – early the following morning

Letty woke to the sound of someone moving about in the kitchen. The sun had barely risen above the rim of the mountains to the far east, it’s pale light not yet strong enough to pierce the fabric of the curtains drawn over their bedroom window. Tom’s side of the bed was empty as she sat up, huddling in the warmth of the thick quilt, the sheets on his side already cold. ‘Up already,’ she thought to herself. ‘That sow must be birthing.’

She threw on her clothes, and padded softly down the stairs, not wanting to wake the others yet. A look of surprise filled her face as she entered the kitchen and saw it was her oldest boy who stood there. A cold piece of cornbread, dripping with honey was crammed halfway in his mouth, a mug of steaming tea sat on the counter next to him. He looked over at his mother and nodded at her, pushing the rest of the cornbread into his maw and swallowing it down with a big swig of tea. ‘Didn’t mean to wake you,’ he mumbled around the last crumbs of the sticky breakfast.’ Swishing his hands quickly in a pan of water in the sink, he wiped them on the thighs of his breeches and then pulled on his cloak.

‘Da got me up early,’ he said hurriedly as a questioning look came on his face. ‘I’m off to Bree to pick up some supplies and deliver this to the Inn.’

Letty blanched, recognizing the letter from Andreth. ‘And where’s your father,’ she asked, noting his cloak was gone from the pegs by the kitchen entrance.

‘Out on business of some sort,’ he said, cramming the letter in the waistband of his breeches. ‘Said he’d be back later.’ The young man gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek, saying he would be back directly.

Letty stood in the doorway and watched him tramp off down the path that would lead him to the road into town. His figure lost to sight as he turned the bend, she went back to the kitchen and poured herself a mug of tea. For a long time, she sat at the table sipping tea, her fingers drumming softly on the worn smooth wooden tabletop. Big Tom was up to some ill-thought foolishness, she was sure. What could she do to thwart it?

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

Guthwine grimaced and openly scowled as Lotar's words of abrupt dismissal brought back heavy memories, Not now....not again! I swore we would never lose another woman or child out of failure to act. As anger welled inside his heart, Guthwine's hand strayed imperceptibly towards the heavy, double-edged blade that hung from his girdle. Clenching his fingers about the hilt, he struggled against a string of bleak memories, but then managed to push back the shadow of fear engulfing his mind, leaving him free to control his actions if not his every word.

He removed his hand from the top of the pommel, letting it slip down by his side, and then took two steps backward, responding in an icy tone, "Lotar you will not put me off as you once did. The council at Weather Hills has made its will known. I am here to see you begin preparations for an imminent attack on Bree. Either you order that boy and the others to go out recruiting and begin their assult on the nearby farmsteads, or I will step in and do it myself!"

With that final jab, Guthwine hurled the Council's dispatch over to Lotar, then whirled around stomping off down the path to find a spot to set up his tent. Guthwine had meant exactly what he had said. He expected to be here for the next few weeks, pushing and prodding Lotar forward, and, if the situation demanded, he would not hesitate to seize direct control.

[ November 03, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac stopped first at the Town Hall. It was very early in the morning and the only one about was the Mayor’s scribe who had come in to put the finishing flourishes on some papers the Mayor had asked him to draw up. ‘Mayor Chetwood will still be at home . . . sir,’ he added as an after thought, knowing the Mayor favored cooperation between the Big and Little Folk. He gave directions to the Ranger and pointed the way down the street to get him started.

The Mayor was indeed at home, and after his initial surprise of finding Berilac on his doorstep, he invited him in. ‘I’ll not take up much of your time,’ the Ranger began, opening up the notebook he held in his hand. Harald bade him sit down at the kitchen table with him – to have a mug of tea while he finished his own breakfast.

Moving his finger from place to place along the drawing of the hedge he and the children had made yesterday, Berilac pointed out the places that needed shoring up. And his suggestions for doing so. At each of the three gates, he paused and looked at his notes, detailing the work needing to be done there.

By the time he was finished, the mayor was rubbing his forehead, looking as if a headache was on the verge of slipping in on him. ‘So much to do,’ he murmured, drawing the notebook toward him and studying the drawing himself.

Berilac spoke up, asking if he might help by organizing the Hobbit folk. They could be set to work filling in the hedge gaps. As for the gates, he thought that probably the Big Folk had more resources to work on them.

‘Your suggestion has some merit, Berilac,’ returned the mayor. ‘Let me give some consideration to it. Can you come by the Town Hall later today and we’ll discuss it further. I have to think, too, how we can rebuild the dike.’

The Ranger stood, thanking the mayor for his time, and took his leave, saying he would indeed call in at the Town Hall later.

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

Guthwine set up his small tent on the edge of the grove at the opposite end of the encampment from Lotar's. Then he made his way back to the central area where a number of the band still loitered waiting to hear what would come out of the meeting between Guthwine and Lotar. Lotar's bellowing response still echoed through their minds.

Helping himself to some soup from the simmering pot that hung over the firepit, Guthwine sat down on the log right beside Rudgar. He glanced around at the others in the circle and spoke with calm assurance, "Many of you do not know me. I am Guthwine and I hail from a small village in the Misty Mountains just north of your own. Our village too was attacked and destroyed by hillmen and Orcs, but we were luckier than you. Because we took aggressive steps to defend ourselves ahead of time, most of our women and children were saved. Now, our people have followed down to the Weather Hills and await there with your own, hoping to find a new home."

"You have seen our kin?" Kirima spoke up.

Guthwine shook his head. "Our numbers grow daily, as does the misery and hunger. I can not say whom I have or haven't seen in specific terms. But I can say this. If we do not find a place to settle, and quickly, great numbers will perish -- both from your village and my own."

"Then why are you here?" Rudgar challenged.

"I am here at the bidding of the council, the combined council of both our villages. I have been sent to help Lotar prepare for an imminent attack on Bree. That attack must come no later than a month from today. For once winter sets in, there is no hope for us. Our people will starve."

Soran's eyes widened as he understood the import of the stranger's words. One month.... They were to attack in just one month. How was such a thing possible? Out loud, he merely said gruffly, "And what is it you expect from us?"

Guthwine shook his head and sighed. "You and your companions have given generously and boldly, but now we must step up our preparations." He turned and looked at Rudgar, "You were a smart lad to go looking for allies. That is what we must do. With twenty or thirty more, we could wreck havoc on the outlying farms and instill fear in their hearts. Fear is as much a weapon as broadswords and staves."

Rudgar smiled broadly, "Then I should go out recruiting again?"

"Yes, but first you must go and make your peace with Lotar. Ask his forgiveness for acting on your own. But also ask that you and your companions be aloowed to go out and recruit others and begin your assault on the farms in the area. If you are respectful, I think you will find him responsive."

Rudgar drew in a sharp breath, "Respectful? But we heard the two of you bellowing at each other from clear across the forest. Why must I be respectful if you are not?"

"The disagreement between Lotar and myself is a personal one and does not affect anyone here. There were bitter words between us that go back many years. But you are a young man just starting out. And if you are to become a successful soldier, you must start by learning to take orders...."

"Soldier? I'm no soldier..." Rudgar muttered under his breath.

"Lad, that you are. You and all the others in this circle. If you wish to see your kin survive, if you wish to have a warm home again, there is only one course to take. Each of you must stop thinking of yourselves as a bandit out to steal a piece of this or that. You must each become a soldier, part of an entire group that will attack and bring down the walls of Bree. Our cause is just. We are homeless and hungry and need that piece of land to call our own."

"Now go and prepare yourselves to ride out soon. For I do believe that Lotar will say yes."

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth - beginning of the second day of school

The two serving girls stood squabbling in the corridor, trying to decide who had the courage to deliver Tom's letter to Mistress Andreth. The Innkeeper was seated in the family's private dining room with the door closed, enjoying a few moments of peace with a cup of steaming cider and a warm yeast bun. Andreth had already been up for several hours, talking with Cook and the master of the stables about what business they could expect that day. Despite the rumors of bandits on the roads, folk were still travelling freely and most of the rooms had been booked from the previous night. In just a few moments, Andreth expected to set aside her breakfast and unlatch the side entrance to the Inn so that her students could come inside for their second day of school.

"That's enough you two! Back to the kitchens and make it fast. I'll take care of that letter," Cook came streaming through the door slamming it behind her, as she handed Tom's message over to Andreth. She watched her Mistress open up the paper and hastily look it over. Then, without saying a word, the Innkeeper refolded the note and tucked it away in the breast pocket of her apron.

"Trouble?" the older woman queried, her face full of curiosity.

Andreth shook her head, "No, trouble at all. At least nothing I can't handle. I'm not surprised in any case. After what happened to Edmund, I already sent a letter to the Mayor asking him to ban all the merchants and shopkeepers from doing business with the Farroweeds until the father and son mend their ways."

Andreth sat back in her seat determined to enjoy her bun and cider and a final few precious moments of quiet. But this was not to be. Suddenly, the door to the room burst open again and Ban came sprinting inside, his face filled with a mixture of excitement and dismay. "Mistress Andreth, come right away. There's a mob at the side entrance of the Inn, both the Big and Little Folk. None of them look too happy!"

Andreth hastily followed Ban over to the entrance where the children were to come, opening the door a crack and then walking out to stand on the top step. A considerable number of parents and kinfolk, many clutching children close to their bodies, stood glaring up at her with anger written on their faces.

[ November 04, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Taralphiel]

Kandel leant against a supply tent as he heard Guthwine speak his words of unity and the honour of a soldier.

'Ah, so you seek to bring us honour then Guthwine? Well, there must be trust first, and we have naught. We are a bunch of family men and common thieves. You'll have a task for you'

The group truned and stared at him and he stood straight. He then said 'Do not think Im trying to take the rug out from under you. Im just saying that my father has been trying to no avail to bring that trust. Lets hope you can help him'

~*~

Lotar took a while before he turned and picked up the parchment. On it was written what Guthwine had allready said. He screwed up the paper and tossed it aside.

'He always seeks to take my place. He has no idea...'

He was interrupted by a slow voice behind him.

'Lotar, its Rudgar. I wish to apologize for what I have done. I know now it was not my place to make such decisions. But I really do believe we have a better chance with recruits!'

'Do not worry, Guthwine has said enough. You may go, and take one from the camp with ye. I know when I am beat'

Lotar turned to the boy and said

'Bring back the best you can find' he said almost softly, and let the boy leave.

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar

Hedgar looked upon Andreth's face. He stood quite in the front, trembling in anger. As many other parents, both Big Folk and Hobbits had the same expression in their faces; lips curled tightly and eyes filled with rage. Hedgar was the first one to step up to meet the Innkeeper, now also the teacher.

"Keep your ears shut sonny," Hedgar whispered to Fippi. His son did as told, but Hedgar could tell that his son was hearing after all. Fippi was only pretending though. But this apparently was good enough for Hedgar, so he decided to take the floor first.

"I put my trust in you, letting my son go here yesterday; without my acceptance. Are we just small people for you still, who you can throw peas at?" By this, Fippi clung to his father, even tighter than before. Hedgar noticed this, and tried to change his strict tune when he continued.

"This 'school' should be a place for the children to learn, not being victims to silly games and such. Unless this changes, I will have to take him home."

Murmurs from the back in the crowd, made Hedgar aware that probably everyone wanted to say something to this Andreth. Nevertheless, the little hobbit was relieved he had stood up to this woman, but he was also a bit sad; honestly he did want Fippi to stay in school. The school was such a good place. His little boy would learn to read and write, better than his father ever would be able to. Hedgar wanted his son to grow up, to be someone. Someone Hedgar never could be. Going to school, would help Fippi there! He sighed as he stepped away, hearing another, having his turn on the poor Innekeeper.

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Alvinac & Kari

Alvinac stepped up next, his grip tightly around Kari's lanky wrist. His daughter tried to mouth to Andreth, but the older woman seemed to be lost in thought. "Miss Andreth." Alvinac said sternly, looking her in the eye.

"I sent Kari to this school thinking that just respectable Mortal children would be attending. When I learned that Hobbits were also there, I got worried." The miller stepped up onto the step, getting a little closer to Andreth.

Several hobbits in the crowd mumbled and booed, but Alvinac held up a hand and continued. "I know that my daughter is fascinated with hobbits. She even made a friend of one," he let Kari go and she ran off to stand next to Lily. "I respect that. I respect Hobbits."

He continued, "I was worried for one reason. Most mortals despise the Little-folk. I didn't want my dear Karianne to be hated. Most Big-folk care only for their race, and not hobbits. Why? They are the same as us! Why does height have to split this town?"

The crowd grew silent. Kari smiled up at her father. "That's all I have to say." Alvinac walked down proudly, his head up high.

Kari grabbed him in a hug, and he put Lily on his knee. That was the best moment of his life.

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

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

[piosenniel]

‘Who’s that?’ Delphinia Comfrey knelt down by her son Hamson, buttoning up his thick wool sweater as proof against the morning chill. The boy was smiling and waving at two of the Big Folk children, who stood behind their mother, waving back at him.

'That’s Rollo and Randy! The ones I told you about, from school. They got hit with the peas, too, and Rollo was egged same as Pearl.’ Hamson’s sister nodded in affirmation.

Randy, by this time was making funny faces at Hamson. His mother, Bettina Butterbur, noting the Hobbit child waving in her direction, had turned around and caught her son in one of his more rude stances – finger up his nose, eyes crossed, while his brother stood behind him giving him ‘bunny ears’ with his V’d fingers. ‘Now that’s enough of that,’ she chided the two of them. ‘No need to tease the Little Folk.’ The twins looked at her as if she’d gone daft. ‘But mom!’ they chorused. ‘That’s Hamson, the one we told you about. We’re friends!’

The two mothers eyed each other, taking each other’s measure. The children looked clean enough, each thought, And well brought up – attentive to what their mothers said. Mrs. Butterbur, a widow of two years, made the first move, and taking her sons’ hands walked toward the Comfrey’s. Not to be outdone, Mrs. Comfrey shooed her brood toward the approaching Butterburs.

Introductions were made and the first hesitant steps of a conversation about the recent events begun. Marigold Woodruff and her mother, Peony, joined the group as they stood in the side courtyard of the Inn. She, too, was a widow; though, in her case, her dear husband had been gone now for five years. A bond of mutual understanding sprang up between Bettina and Peony, both agreeing how much more difficult it was to be the only parent.

The three families turned as the door to the Inn cracked open, and the Innkeeper stepped into view.

Peony Woodruff’s voice rang out, expressing the concerns she and the other two mothers had spoken of.

‘We trusted you with our precious little ones, Miz Andreth,’ she began, Bettina and Delphinia nodding at her words. ‘Now, I’m not saying you did anything wrong yourself, but how do we know they’ll be safe if we leave them here again?’

‘We’re all busy at home, trying to make ends meet,’ chimed in Bettina. ‘We can’t be staying with them while they’re here. If it’s going to be like it was yesterday, best we just keep them home!’

Delphinia pushed up the sleeve of Hamson’s sweater and held up his left arm. There were red, angry welts where the peas had hit him hard, and a cut over his right eye where he had slipped on the eggy ground and fallen. There were murmurs of shock from both the Hobbit and Big Folk families.

‘This is too high a price to pay for a little letter learning, don’t you think?’ Bettina and Peony stood with their arms crossed tight across their chests, their eyes fixed on Andreth.

Someone in the crowd called out an angry ‘What are you going to do about it?’ toward Andreth.

Little Hamson’s voice piped up clearly in the silence. ‘Couldn’t we all help?’

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Annunfuiniel's post for Mausi:

Mausi gathered her skirts in her left hand and tried to pick up some speed. How could I sleep so late! she scolded herself and looked down at Ella by her side. The girl clutched tight her right hand in an attempt to keep up with her mother's pace. Her eyes faced the dusty street and she kept silent, biting her lip nervously. Kali and Mondy came right behind their mother and sister, both hoping that they could have gone to the school without all this fuss. All three guessed that mima was going to make a scene...

But Mausi wasn't so sure about that after the night of little sleep and lot of thinking. It isn't Miz Andreth's fault that those rascals did what they did. To blame...

Mausi's musings came to a sudden end as the four Honeysuckles stormed around the corner to the Inn's backyard. The mother gasped and her offspring stared eyes round at the scene that was played in front of them: Big and Little Folk, parents and children; the yard swelling with people.

It took a while before Mausi could conceive what was going on. She saw Peony Woodruff step forward and heard her words: ‘We trusted you with our precious little ones, Miz Andreth. Now, I’m not saying you did anything wrong yourself, but how do we know they’ll be safe if we leave them here again?’

Mausi, still holding Ella's hand, stooped down and took Kali in her lap. Then, after telling Mondy to hold on to her girdle, she strove forward, listening as one of the Big Folk parents continued in the same tone and on the same lines as Peony:

‘We’re all busy at home, trying to make ends meet. We can’t be staying with them while they’re here. If it’s going to be like it was yesterday, best we just keep them home!’

Poor Andreth! This isn't going well at all... Mausi had time to reflect before she finally reached the front row. But as she then looked around her eyes met with the most curious sight imaginable in the circumstances: a Big Folk father squatting nearby with his daughter on one and a Hobbit child on other knee! Mausi's jaw would most likely have dropped open had not Kali's head rested right under her chin.

But Mausi wasn't given time to dive any deeper in perplexity as Delphinia Comfrey's voice from her right brought her back to the present mayhem: ‘This is too high a price to pay for a little letter learning, don’t you think?’ Mausi turned around to see what she was talking about and then drew a sharp breath as she saw the red marks on young Hamson Comfrey's arm and the bruise over his eye.

‘What are you going to do about it?’ A faceless voice came from the crowd - and suddenly all was silent. Not 'you' but... Mausi couldn't finish her thought before little Hamson spoke it out loud:

‘Couldn’t we all help?’

Now Mausi couldn't stay aside any longer. She let Kali back down beside his sister and brother and then spoke up:

"Yes, we shouldn't leave Miz Woolthistle to cope on her own. She truly hasn't done anything wrong and blaming her doesn't aid our case; let the blame be aided where it belongs." Mausi took a deep breath and stepped forward to gain a more straight contact with the Innkeeper.

"My children never lie to me..." She continued in a trusting tone; "Yet yesterday they were unwilling to tell me of the incident that happened here for they were afraid I would get angry and do something like...well, what's going on here right now. They really like it here --- and in the end that's the thing that matters the most." Mausi backed on her place beside Ella, Mondy and Kali, who then gathered around her, their smiling faces glowing with gratitude. Their mother would let them go to school!

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth:

Andreth nodded sympathetically while she gestured to the others to hold back on their comments and let her speak, "You're right. All of you. We can't continue like this. But come inside. None of us are going to settle anything standing on the steps." She backed through the door and beckoned the others to follow, leading them to the parlor that was part of her family's personal chambers. One of the servers stood waiting inside and slipped a piece of paper into her hand. Andreth glanced down and smiled. It was Harald's familiar scrawl and the note said exactly what she had hoped.

Andreth leaned over and whispered to the maid to bring back a tray with drinks and buns and a bowl filled with hard boiled eggs. She'd seen the empty lunch pails that the children had toted to school and now the hard, gaunt lines that were etched on the parents' faces. Whatever food they could manage was clearly reserved for the little ones. In this room, the drought was more than just a distant thing. It was reflected in the hollow eyes and lean bodies of many gathered here. How could folk spend time fighting each other when so much was at stake? When Ruby came back and served the breakfast, Andreth began to talk.

"This is not just the Prancing Pony Inn. It is also my home, and I welcome you here."

Then she surveyed the circle of parents and children and sighed, "Sometimes I think our children understand things better than we do. Hamson is right. We have to help each other to make this work."

"First, I've sent a letter of warning to the father of the lad who was responsible for all this havoc, the peas shot through the window of the school and the attack on the children who were going home. I've already received a letter of support from the Mayor. The shopkeepers and merchants in Bree will be forbidden from dealing with this family, selling them goods or buying provisions from them, until the father swears to keep his son under control."

There were a few murmurs of surprise at this announcement. Mausi shook her head, "All well and good, but how do we know that others won't do the same?"

"We don't, so we must be prepared. I promise. Every child who participated in that attack will be punished. Every one," she repeated with emphasis. "I've already sent notes to the other families involved and they are being cooperative."

"I've also asked the Mayor to find a suitable job for these older lads to keep them out of mischief."

Andreth did not mention the talk she'd had with Edmund earlier that morning, how he would be writing notes of apology to each of the children who'd been hit with eggs or peas, or the other ideas she had for trying to get her son back on the right track.

Hamson raised his hand and asked, "What about the helping part?"

"If this school is going to succeed, not just now but even after the bandits leave, we're all going to need to pitch in and help. I promise you that the Inn and surrounding schoolyard will be safe. The Mayor has agreed to send over one of the watchmen to patrol the area in the morning and chase off any disreputable folk. What I can't do is safeguard your children on their walk here in the morning or the way home in the afternoon. Only you can do that."

"All it would take would be one parent accompanying the children to and from school to scare off any hooligans. These lads are too cowardly to strike when there is an adult nearby."

Mistress Comfrey shook her head, "I'd like to help but I can't make two trips twice a day for five days."

Andreth shook her head, "You don't need to do that. The children must come to school in one or two large groups. You would share out the responsibility so that every parent need only come here one or two times a week."

"And I promise you this. Your children will be given a hot breakfast and lunch at the school. Very simple fare but nourishing and hearty. And whoever brings the children here or walks home with them will be welcome to share in our small meal. This isn't just charity. It's a practical thing. Several of the lads who work for me are being assigned to dig ditches so I can't depend on them for now. I need the children to help with simple things like gathering firewood, sweeping the common room, or listing the supplies that are going to be brought in from the surrounding area."

As she sat back in her chair, she suddenly caught a glimpse of Mayor Harald standing in the corridor and trying to catch her eye.

[ November 05, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Beren's post for Minastan before his departure

The wollen trousers landed softly on the edge of Minastan's bunk, thrown from the dresser across room. Minastan turned to look at the clothes jumbled over his matress, a visual check to make sure all was there. Satisfied, he began to fill the his pack, taking all that would be necessary for the mission ahead of him.

He wondered aloud to himself, as he packed, how on earth he was going to infiltrate this band of ruffians. His first plan, simply to spy on them from a distance he soon realised would fall through completely. There was no way he could get close enough to their camp to hear anything vital without being noticed, good though he was. There were just too many of them, from all acounts of harassed travelers.

His brain, foaming with ideas, soon led to only one conclusion. He would somehow have to get into the camp, into their very organization, if he was to learn anything that might help those of the town.

Finally the solution presented itself, just yesterday, he had learned from a blacksmith traveling the road that the bandits were looking for people. They had judged the blacksmith would be helpful in taking the city and approached him with the offer. From his account the ruffians weren't to happy when he said no, and their blade marks still marred his right arm.

Minastan knew what he was going to be forced to do. Somehow, he had to convince these bandits that he was indeed fed-up with Bree enough to want to get back at it. He pushed the last article into the hide bag and pulled the rope tight around it as his plan continued to wheel among his head.

[ November 07, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eruantalon's post

Rudgar was upset and annoyed by Lotar's actions. At least Guthwine recognized his worth in this group. It would take time but Lotar would relinquish his hold on the leadership of this group. Now he needed a companion. Who would he choose? Kirima seemed like a good choice. He didn’t have all the time in the world to weigh each persons worth. He would just have to go with some one who seemed trustworthy.

“Kirima would you like to go looking for more people with me. I know a lot of bandits around here and, with your help, it should be quick work.”

Kirima accepted his offer. The two now got ready for the day with supplies. They said little to each other. Rudgar seemed nervous. Kirima seemed to pick up on this. Rudgar just want to get everything on its way. Rudgar stopped by Lotars tent. “I am taking Kirima along with me Lotar. Kirma and I are setting out to get more people, in a bit.”

The two where now ready, and started, setting out on there mission. Rudgar knew just where he could go to get more people. There was a small cove where bandits liked to stop at once in awhile. There where usually a good amount of them there around this time. No more than three or four. Once word got sent out the rest would come. With luck there would be more recruits than they needed.

Rudgar explained all this to Kirima as they went along. He seemed half interested at the time. He seemed to have some one on his mind while they went along. Or something more important than gathering a group of fighters was on his mind.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eruantalon's post

Kirima and Rudgar made their way quietly out of camp until they came to the spot where the bandits waited, being careful to slip in undetected. Rudgar pulled his friends aside and then spoke to the men who had come out to greet them. “Listen, since most of you know me and want to help, we will need more recruits. There are not enough to get this job done as is. I know the lot of you can spread the word and get people here soon. We are in great haste to gather people together. Get every person that can or will help. We will meet here tomorrow at noon. I hope you will all help us.”

With that he looked at Kirima and told her they should start getting back to camp. They moved through the thicket past the guard and made their way back to camp. He hoped that there would be some talent by tomorrow gathered at the meeting place. Then he stopped to speak with his fellow bandit, sharing something with her that had been heavy on his heart.

“Kirima thank you for coming along. I think we will need at least one more companion tomorrow. I think Soren wouldn’t mind helping? I will need more people to explain, and guide the company back tomorrow and three will do I think.”

“Kirima, I think I doubted just how grave your people’s pain is on the Weather Top. It must be hard to know that your family is suffering. My own father and mother suffered much before the fires took there lives. I know what it's like to worry about some one you care about. I enjoy being a thief you know. It’s full of adventure and mischief.

Being a soldier is not any interest of mine. I can thump a man quicker than a blink with this dull sword. Some times we need to change. Maybe I should think about sharpening it for the battle. My father used this sword in battle before a long time ago.”

“I’ve made up my mind Kirima I am helping the people at the Weather Top by stealing food for them. If I have any say, they will survive. You must have been very desperate to steal that smoked chicken from me. I was mad at you. Now I understand you didn’t steal it to eat. You sent it to the people who were so hungry. I keep thinking about the children there. I know what it's like to be small, hungry and cold.”

“Taking Bree won’t be easy but at least they will have a home right? I mean this is only the beginning of a lot of things to come. I am not heartless you know. I have been through what you’re going through before. We just weren’t lucky enough to be in such good order as you all. You seem to have people that guide and put things together. We didn’t have that when we where just farmers. Now I steal from them to feed dying people on Weather Top.”

“If things go as I plan I will be raiding farmers, while the company starts building itself from word of mouth. Then your people will have food and a company of bandits. In do time all will be right again. Just be sure to be leary of some people now and again.”

Kirima nodded her head in acknowledgement and the two sealed their pact of friendship to try and help the peoples of the Weather Hills.

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

Arestevana's post

The second day dawned bright and clear. This time Rudgar took a different route. Kirima followed Rudgar quietly, making little noise as they wound their way among the trees. He said he knew quite a few bandits in the area, and had hopes that they could round up a good-sized group of recruits. Not bandits, she corrected him, grinning– soldiers. Rudgar began talking, telling her about a small cove where bandits stayed at times. He seemed distracted, and grew silent as they walked, seeming deep in thought.

“Rudgar!” Kirima hissed. They had reached a place where the land began to slope downward, and she had caught a glimpse of movement ahead. They seemed to be nearing the place Rudgar had led them to yesterday, and a sentry had seen them. Rudgar glanced back at her and grinned. “I see him. And he knows who I am, if he hasn’t forgotten.” He began to increase his pace, and jumped lightly down the slope.

Kirima followed Rudgar into the cove. There were a goodly number of men lying about, or leaning against trees. A camp fire burned steadily nearby, and a small iron kettle hung over it, steaming. A man approached them. He had long, slightly ragged hair and worn clothes. Kirima recognized him as the sentry she had seen earlier. Rudgar greeted the man cheerfully and they talked for a few minutes. Kirima assumed they knew each other well. She scanned the other faces that she could see. None of them looked particularly friendly.

Beside her Rudgar and the other drew close in their conversation. Rudgar turned to Kirima. “My friend Gareth here says he’ll help us along with the other men.” He said. “Go talk to some of the others. Tell them what we want and what they’ll get out of it—the spoil of Bree. Don’t worry, they’ll be ready enough to help. They’re good folk, leastways better than some, and most of ‘em know me.”

Kirima nodded nervously and turned to the nearest stranger. “Er, hello, sir,” she began, knowing she sounded foolish. The man smirked, watching her silently. She shook her head and tried again. “I am a member of a scouting party from the refugees at Weather Top. We are set to capture the town of Bree.” Here the man raised his eyebrows skeptically, but he was paying closer attention now. Kirima continued. “We wish to recruit whoever we can. Whoever helps will be welcome to share in the spoils, for the refugees want only homes and food to survive the winter.” She stopped, realizing how long she had spoken, and feeling doubly foolish.

The man laughed. “Sure, I’ll help you and your little scouting party miss. Besides, I owe Rudgar.” He turned, still laughing, to a pair of bandits standing near by. “Hey you two, Rudgar’s got himself a few friends—seems they’re going to take Bree-town. What do you say we give our pal a hand?” The others laughed and agreed as well, before returning to their talk.

Kirma walked over to Rudgar, who had just finished talking to another bandit. “All I’ve talked to agreed to help. How goes it with you?” Kirima smiled wryly. “I’ve managed to make an idiot of myself, but those three say they’ll help.” She gestured at the three bandits. Rudgar said, “I’ll have someone stay here to tell anyone else who comes by in the next while, and we’ll take the others to see Lotar, or Guthwine, about plans.” He called to the bandits they had recruited, more than twenty altogether, and started back toward their camp.

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

Beren87's post

He had walked nearly half a league already, into the wood surrounding Bree, and yet Minastan was no better off for it, as there was still not yet a hint of bandits. Yet there was no thought of turning back weighing on his mind, Minastan knew that he had to succeed.

Suddenly the sound of voices carried themselves from the South, only twenty paces off from where Minastan stood listening. A delicate crack echoed through the trees, followed by a sharp curse. "If they're trying to keep quiet, they're doing a poor job of it," he thought to himself. With the grace of a woodsman he stood silently, near invisible among the foliage of the wood. Whispering speech was soon evident as they moved steadily closer.

Finally they broke through a dense patch and into his field of vision. They were moving slowly, looking around them for any hint of movement. With a quick sprint, Minastan was in front of them, a metallic unsheathing ringing throughout the quiet of the forest.

"More Bree-folk!" Minastan barked as he swung his blade at the man, with no intention of hitting. "Bloody, stuck-up, mob!"

"Fool! We're no people of Bree!" shouted the woman as she jumped back. Exactly the answer he was looking for.

"Then what are you? Supporters from some far-city, I suppose, or mercenaries sent to find me! That uppity mayor still thinks he can be rid of Minastan! He'll get what's coming to him, they all will." His eyes shined with mock-fury as he put forth the charade.

"We're not!" she repeated, "We've the same intentions you do!"

"Kirima!" The man barked, "Don't be shouting off to some highwayman; he could be a spy for all we know." His eyes flashed toward Minastan, doubt playing across his face.

"A spy! For what? What've them imbeciles in the town got to spy on, 'sides me?" Minastan spat the words as he said them. "I was run out of that town months ago."

"Run out? For what?" the woman, Kirima, asked him.

"Thievin', one of them no-good rangers caught me at it. But they won't keep me out, that's for sure." He sheated his sword in mock-regret, playing the words as much as he could. "So then, if you're no folk of Bree, what are you out here in the forest for, there's bandits about."

The man sheathed his sword as Minastan did, and then held out his hand to shake. "We're a scouting party, looking for recruits. The refugees at Weathertop need food, and a home, we've been looking to recruit ruffians to help us with that. You may be able to help us."

"Help ya? Hum..I suppose a gang has a better chance than just me, all told." He grasped the other man's hand in his, a smile playing across his lips. "We may be able to help each other out, here. You're grouped up near Bree, then?"

Kirima smiled at him, "Yep, you can follow us on up there." She pointed her hand in the direction as she spoke, then nodded towards the man, "This is Rudgar, we two were sent out to meet a group of bandits."

Minastan nodded to them both, then pulled his cloak around him. They were soon creeping through the forest, the three of them watching around for movement.

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

[Chathol-linn]

Joint Post of Child and Chathol-linn

The Ranger Hobbit left Harald’s house right after breakfast. The Mayor went back to his kitchen to think. He liked the large front window that overlooked the town. He ticked off points on his fingers, talking aloud as he always did when alone:

“One – Minastan is off spying on the bandits.
Two – Elmerith and Telien are rounding up some sturdy lads and lasses to repair the ditch.
Three – Rosco says the roads are not safe anymore. So are we cut off from the outlying farms?
Four – If we are cut off, how will we get supplies in to town?
Five – Berilac was clever to get the children to help him. But the hedge is worse than I thought.
Six– Will Farroweed and his gang are harassing Andreth’s school children.
Seven - Andreth has volunteered to work with Berilac and Rosco and the other hobbits to begin gathering in the foodstuffs.
And last but not least – Willofain says that Andreth’s Edmund is one of Will’s gang. Whew!”

Bree will not stand long if we put up with bullies in the streets, he thought. Nor will it stand if bandits overrun our poor defenses. What to do? Mum, you never mentioned days like this.

Harald pulled out a map of Bree, similar to Berilac’s, and marked the Hedge’s weak spots. Not good. He shut his eyes, thinking hard.

His Dad had always loved battle lore. Bedtime stories had been about great battles of old. Dad had even had an old book called The Art of War by one Thranduil Oropherion, whoever that might be. Harald had read it often.

Soon a plan began to surface – not much but it was a start. Harald rolled the map, put on his red neckerchief, and left his house for the Town Hall. I’ll have until afternoon until Berilac shows up, and I can think about this some more. But it turned out he had less time than he thought.

No sooner had Harald reached the Town Hall – halfway between his house on the hill, and The Prancing Pony Inn at the bottom of town – than Willofain came streaking into the big room. Her high, little-girl’s voice reached right up to the ceiling beams.

“Here, now!” said Harald’s scribe. “You wait!” But Willofain dodged him easily.

“Mister Harald! There’s a lot of folks over at the Pony, and they’re mad at Miz Andreth! It’s about those boys who threw something at Fippi yesterday!”

Harald took a moment to notice the hay in her hair. She had slept in Dantha’s stables yet again, and he would do something about that soon. But first – “Those boys used pea shooters, and I aim to see they don’t do it again. You stay here for awhile, Willofain. And you, Mr. Scribe – kindly go get Telien and Elmerith and ask them to meet me over at the Inn.”

“That’s a lot of fire power for a bunch of parents,” observed the scribe.

“They’re mostly for show, and for later. Tell them to send volunteer lads and lasses here.”

The scribe took off in one direction and Harald in the other. Willofain waited a few minutes until they were both out of sight, and then she took off too.

[ November 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Big Tom's new customer

It was later that morning that Big Tom came tramping back to the farm. Will and the others had been sent out to the sty and pig barn, to look after the pigs, while Letty worked in her garden. She was just hoeing a little furrow between the rows of bush beans when she saw her husband’s familiar figure turn up the path to the barn. Standing up straight, she eased the crick out of her back, and shaded her eyes from the sun.

‘Curious!’ she murmured to herself. ‘Someone is with him!’ She didn’t recognize the man, but noted that his hair was long, riding his shoulders, and ragged along the bottom edge. His clothes were a little the worse for wear, and along the edges of his jaws and chin was the beginning of a scraggly beard. Letty saw him hand her husband something, and in turn Tom put a string of smoked sausages round the man’s neck, and a ham into his waiting hands.

As they talked, Letty noted the man’s eyes darted here and there, taking in the various areas of the farm and house. Once, his gaze fell on her for a few moments, and she felt a sudden chill creep up her spine. She hung back in the garden, not wanting to make any sort of contact with the stranger.

‘Who was that?’ she demanded as Big Tom walked up the path to her. His hand was in his breeches’ pocket and she could hear the sound of coins clinking together as he fingered them.

‘Naught you need worry about,’ he told her, drawing a ladle of cool water from the bucket she had near her in the garden for watering the smaller plants. Tom sipped at the refreshing liquid, his eyes following the retreating figure of the man. ‘New customer,’ he said, returning the empty ladle to the bucket. ‘Name of Gareth. Nice fellow. Says he know others what will be glad to buy our hams and sausage and even a few of your fresh vegetables.’

Letty’s hand tightened around the handle of her hoe. Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she watched the stranger’s slow amble down the road. ‘No one’s getting my vegetables, excepting our family,’ she said firmly to her husband. ‘And especially not the likes of him . . .!’

[ November 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Bettina, Peony, Delphina - organising the escort of the children to and from school

Bettina Butterbur motioned Peony Woodruff and Delphina Comfrey aside once the Innkeeper had finished speaking. ‘I think Miz Andreth has a good idea. What if we divide up the ferrying of the children back and forth to school?’ The two Hobbit ladies nodded their agreement, suggesting they organize the Little Folk if Miz Butterbur would see to the Big Folk. ‘The Hobbits would be happy to see to getting the children to school,’ Peony said, ticking off the Little Folk families she saw gathered. ‘Could the Big Folk see to getting them home after school?’ ‘Of course they can,’ affirmed Bettina. She was widely known for her ability to organize (or “bully”, some of her former ‘volunteers’ thought), and the certain gleam in her eye was growing brighter as she focused in on the pool of potential volunteers gathered here, and the uncounted ones who had not come to this early morning meeting.

She walked over to where Alvinac stood, recalling his favorable words about the Little Folk. A hand on his arm and a few whispered words to him, accompanied at first by a look of surprise then a nod of agreement, and then Alvinac was stepping to the front of the group with Bettina.

‘Listen up, Bree-landers!’ came the authoritative voice of Bettina as Alvinac stood behind her. ‘The Miller and I have volunteered to bring the children home from school today. He’ll take one group and I’ll take another.’ She ignored the raised eyebrows and muttered comments and sailed on with the rest of her speech. ‘All you Big Folk come over here and we’ll get the rest of the afternoons organized for getting the children home.’ She nodded at Delphina and Peony, who raised their hands to draw the attention of the crowd.

‘And if all you Hobbits will gather over here,’ came the clear voice of Peony Woodruff, her voice at first a little timid, then taking on confidence as Bettina and Delphina smiled at her. ‘We’ll be doing the morning job of getting the children to school.’ She drew Delphina up by her. 'Miz Comfrey and I will do the two groups tomorrow morning.’

Delphina motioned the hesitant Hobbits over. ‘Come now,’ she said in a no nonsense voice her children recognized. ‘Give us the days you can help out and we’ll get you paired up.’

Soon the Big Folk and the Little Folk had sorted themselves out in pairs and picked a suitable day for themselves. Miz Andreth nodded at the three ladies, who waved at her as they hugged their children, each admonishing them to be good, pay attention to Miz Andreth, and to wait for their escort home.

[ November 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Joint post - Cami and Chathol-linn:

Andreth and the Mayor

Arriving at the inn, Harald saw that Andreth had worked her magic and gotten the angry parents into her private chamber. He stood in the door a moment, noting how thin most of the hobbit parents looked – and so did Berilac now that I think of it – and how expectantly Andreth was looking at them. Harald sighed, and everyone turned to look.

“What is it, Mr. Chetwood?” Andreth inquired.

“Can you come outside for a moment, please?” When Andreth was outside the room they walked down the hall a little way. Then Harald said, “Did you know that your boy was with Will’s gang yesterday? I’m going to put it about that I want them brought to me in this matter. At once. If your boy doesn’t have a good excuse, he’ll have to see me too. I am sorry, Andreth, but he fell into bad company.”

The Innkeeper smiled sadly, "Yes, I know. I'm no more happy about it than you are. Edmund and I have had a serious talk, and he knows that there will be a punishment coming. I have no problem at all if you want to call him in individually and speak with him. Only remember he's just six years old. He's not going to understand what you're saying unless you talk to him like a little boy. And, whatever you do, I don't want him anywhere near those older lads. They're a bad influence."

Harald nodded in agreement.

“I’ll tell Telien and Elmerith to look grim while I give them a good talking-to. Then they have a choice: a swat on the backside with a birch switch, or help Elmerith in the guardhouse – putting points on long wooden poles, like spears. For every four they complete, I will pay them a farthing from the treasury. By the time we are done, I hope to have recruited the boys and if not, they’re free to go – and not come back. Punishment, reward – and a plan for those poles.”

Andreth replied, "I think the families of the lads will be cooperative, all but Tom Farroweed. As I told the parents this morning, they've already contacted me and let me know they're sorry. But the Farroweed family....I don't know."

“Maybe they need a hand with the boys, who knows? And if not, I don’t much care. The families will hear. I will bar them from town, and no one will trade with them.”

Andreth nodded. "As far as Edmund goes, I would prefer to punish him. I don't want him given the switch, as I think it will do little good other than to make him more rebellious. I have been thinking of something special. I think what he needs is some good, hard work, a bit of stiff discipline, and a chance to get to know some hobbits and realize that they're not really so different."


Harald said, "Of course. I understand. I feel the same way about the older boys. Stick, carrot ... I think they will choose the carrot, and help us. But I will not let bullies go unpunished in this town. It is my job to maintain order.”

Andreth looked away and sighed, "It's not easy when you're on your own and have so many things to manage as once. How many times in the past two days I've wished that Bergil were here. And I have a feeling if his was, Edmund would feel and act very differently. The boy misses his father terribly."

"Edmund is lucky to have you, Andreth. As for those other boys, shall we try my method, and find out?”

Andreth nodded in agreement, and shook hands with the mayor.

[ November 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth and the Second Day of School

As Andreth nodded her goodbyes to Mayor Harald and hurried into the classroom, she was surprised and pleased to find most of the children with their heads bent down in concentration, already hard at work. Some were writing out letters and numbers on their slates; a few were seated by the box where Andreth kept a supply of small pebbles that were used to help with addition, while the youngest ones had gathered at Kari's knee to listen to her read from Cami Goodchild's "Book of Hobbits".

Only Edmund seemed unable to concentrate. He wandered around the room with a glum expression pasted over his face, too weighed down with sorrow even to get himself into mischief. Because of what had happened the afternoon before, most of the children were making a point to avoid getting anywhere near Edmund and had rebuffed his earlier attempts to join them in play or share in their secrets.

None of this escaped the Innkeeper's attention. Apparently, Willofain was not the only one to have noticed the boy; several others must have recognized Edmund as one of the hated troublemakers who, armed with peashooters and rocks, had plagued them on their way home from school. Regaining his classmates' trust in this situation would not be easy. But, if things were going to improve for Edmund, it would somehow have to be done. Andreth reminded herself to follow up on her promise to Harald not only to make certain the boy was punished, but to help bring something postive out of the experience, especially teaching him how to get along with others.

For the remainder of the morning, things went relatively smoothly. There was less friction and bickering than Andreth had encountered the day before and a great deal more learning taking place. Only Edmund seemed distraught and paid little attention to what was going on in the classroom, using his slate to sketch several poses of squirrels playing among the branches of the trees just outside the Inn.

Edmund and Kali still were not getting along. Discovering what a good artist Kali was, Andreth had asked him to do a drawing on one of her treasured vellum sheets to illustrate a story she was reading to the class. Somehow, mysteriously, this sheet had ended up on the floor during recess, and Edmund managed to walk all over it. His mother had definite suspicions as to what might actually have happened, but, lacking proof, she felt constrained from saying or doing anything other than to offer Kali a second sheet for his drawing and allowing him to sit at her desk until he was done. While Kali was finishing his drawing and the other children were carrying out their work, Andreth scrawled a hurried note to Berilac asking for help with Edmund, and had Ban run out to deliver it to Mausi's where the Ranger was staying.

As Andreth had promised the parents, everyone was rewarded with a hearty lunch after all the lessons had been learned. Cook came bustling in at mid-day, portioning out generous bowls of hot soup and thick slabs of bread and butter, while one of the young serving lasses followed behind toting a large bucket of apples from which the children could choose. Once the food had been eaten and the dishes and cutlery collected for washing, Andreth had the children pack up their things and wait by the side door where the parents had promised to meet them to take the two groups home.

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Many of the Hobbit holes were on the upper loop of road that ran east off the Main Road, then dipped south and finally curved north once again. Here, on the upper slopes of Bree-hill was where Berilac was bound today, visiting the Hobbits, listening to their concerns, turning the conversations gently to the need for hands to help repair the hedge.

Many were hesitant at first, then warmed to the idea that their work parties could be Hobbits only. Some volunteered to come down directly to work on the hedge and some volunteered to take their wagons to the town’s dump site and pick up items that could be used to fill the gaps, while others volunteered their saws and axes to make the lengths of leafy limbs needed to lace across the rents and gaps.

The children, he explained, would volunteer to do a lot of the work in the smaller areas, he said – though they could only work a couple of hours each day after school was let out.

‘And what about them gates, sir?’ one of the families had asked. ‘No use fixing the hedge if the ruffians can waltz in through the gates!’

Berilac said he’d thought perhaps the Big Folk could be gotten to repair the gates. He knew the big forge in town was owned by one of the Big Folk families. ‘It’s us Hobbits what use the North gate most,’ said Elfrid, the father of the family. ‘Let that be our job.’ He pointed to his five brawny sons saying their family were all metal workers. ‘We’ve a small forge, but the fire burns hot in it, and there’s plenty of scrap we can be using for the hinges and bolts and the banding.’ He nodded east to where his good friend lived. ‘Sammael and his sons are the wood workers – they’ll plane the new planks for us. I’ll send my Tobin round now to get him.’

The hastily called conference proved fortuitous. Plans were made and a schedule agreed on. Tomorrow, Sammael and Elfrid would make their inspection of the gate and see what could be done and how long it might take.

The Ranger took his leave of the two men, thanking them for taking on the job. There were a few more families to see, and it was already nearing noon. He was just on his way down the path, when he heard his name being called. There, running toward him, all gangly like a colt, was the fellow from the Inn – the stable lad, Ban.

‘Mr. Berilac, sir,’ he said, panting from his exertions. ‘Miz Andreth has sent me to bring you this note. It would have reached you sooner, but I went to Mausi Honeysuckle’s house first and she sent me looking for you here.’ Ban paused for breath while Berilac read through the note.

Could you please come by after school, it said, and discuss a matter of some concern to me. My son, Edmund, – I need some help getting him in hand somehow and changing his attitude.

I know you are organizing some of the work parties to repair the defenses. Might you find a place for Edmund to be of some use? Or perhaps give me some suggestions.

My thanks in advance,

Andreth Woolthistle

‘Tell your Mistress I’ll be there directly, I have just two more folks to see.’ Berilac watched as Ban ran back down the path.

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

The last hole on the crest of Bree-hill was that of the Comfreys. Delphinia and Everard were home, their two children Pearl and Hamson at school. Delphinia was busy in her garden, gathering up the ripe bounty of the day to be preserved for the winter months. Everard was at work in the small rabbit pen – patching up the fence and securing the door to the hutch against the night predators.

They recognized Berilac from the town meeting and hastened to make him at home. A cup of cool water from the well was offered, and a seat in the shade of the elm tree. And yes, Everard would be glad to help with the hedge, and he could take charge of one of the groups of children if Berilac wished – a few hours in the afternoon would be just the amount of time he thought he might afford away from his patients.

‘Patients?’ asked Berilac, looking about the small place. ‘Are you a healer, then?’

Everard laughed, seeing the look of confusion on the Ranger’s face. ‘Of sorts,’ he said, ‘of sorts.’ With a nod at the missus, he motioned for Berilac to follow him.

At the edge of the little holding, where the top of the hill was lined with trees and low-lying shrubs, there was a series of variously sized pens and hutches. Almost all were filled with a layer of sweet smelling hay and in each was an animal of some sort on the mend from injuries or illness – a racous crow with a wicked beak and a broken wing that had been set with bandage and sticks as splints; a slow-moving weasel who’d been knocked in the head by a rock from a sling shot and was blind in one eye; a grey striped cat with a chewed up ear and scabbed shoulder and her four kittens; a noisy goose with one crippled leg in a nearby pen with two ducklings she’d adopted, their mother done in by a marten. In another, one little three legged fox, the unfortunate victim of a farmer’s cunning trap, and in the small pen nearby, one scruffy pony, bony and knock-kneed, found abandoned in Chetwood on one of the family’s firewood expeditions. ‘He’s healthy enough now,’ said Everard, running his hand along the pony’s flank. ‘But he’ll ne’er be a beauty.’

It was evident to Berilac that this was something that Everard quite enjoyed doing, and from the looks of those he had worked on, he had some skill in doing so. At the back of his mind, he was thinking of what Kali had told him about Edmund and his squirrel. He smiled as he said his farewells to the Comfreys and took himself down the road to the Inn.

The children had all gone home with the Big Folk who had promised to walk them home that day. Miz Andreth was in her classroom, straightening up the chairs and tables and putting the slates and chalk away when he rapped on the frame of the open door and waited for her to see him.

‘I’ve come to see if Edmund can assist us over the next few days,’ he said to her as she straightened up and walked toward him. He could see Edmund hanging back in the shadows. ‘Might he be available to help us with the hedge?’

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth responds to Berilac:

Andreth shook her head, "That's exactly the kind of thing I thought might be helpful. Edmund will have to work hard, but he'll also learn something about cooperating with the other children who'll be helping."

Andreth turned and glanced nervously over at her son, who was still standing in the corner of the classroom staring down stubornly at his muddy boots. "But I must tell you, Edmund and I had a talk this morning. He knows that he has a choice. I told him he could help out Cook in the kitchen, sweeping the floors and peeling vegetables for the next few weeks, or he could assist you on whatever project you thought best. He needs to make up his mind and let you know."

For a moment, she pulled closer to the hobbit and spoke in a tone that was barely above a whisper. "Edmund always had his own way of doing things. But, since his father's death, he's gotten harder and harder to manage. Sometimes I feel as if we're going in circles."

Andreth stepped back, then walked towards Edmund and crouched down, so that she was on the same level as her son and could see eye-to-eye. She reached out and gently tousled a few curls that had slipped down over his eyes. "So, Edmund. You must decide. Do you want to help out Cook in the kitchens, or do you prefer to go with Master Berilac and help him repair the city's defenses? Either way, it will be hard work. Please tell us what you've decided to do."

Edmund stared down resolutely at the floor and fidgeted, wishing that he could slip away from his mother and the Inn and leave everything behind him. His initial reaction was one of mistrust. Part of him wanted to tease and poke fun at Berilac the way he'd done to Kali and some of the other hobbits in the class. But Berilac was grown up. And even worse than that, the hobbit had a certain look about him that warned Edmund no nonsense of that type would be tolerated.

For one instant, Edmund weighed the option of whether to trudge down to the kitchen and take his punishment from Cook. But then he remembered what had happened to him last time when Cook had made his life miserable. At least if he was with Berilac, he'd be outside where there were animals and plants to look at, and not shut up within a dull, dingy kitchen where his only companions would be a stack of dirty dishes.

Who knows....perhaps I'll get lucky. Perhaps, I can run into the woods when Berilac isn't looking and find some more squirrels or even a coney or two, who need help and can be my friends.

Out loud, he only lifted up his eyes and murmurred in a sullen voice, "Those are my choices? Then, I'll go fix hedges. At least that's important work for a Man. I won't be stuck with a bunch of silly serving girls." He made sure to say the word 'Man' loud and clear and stare Berilac straight in the face so the hobbit would know exactly how he felt about working with the Little Folk.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Griffo and the volunteers try to gather in some crops and bring them to the Inn…

Griffo unfolded the small, square sheet of vellum that Mistress Andreth had handed to him when he’d stopped by the Pony at the start of the day. He squinted at the paper this way and that, turning it first in one direction and then the other in an honest effort to unlock its meaning, but still couldn’t make much sense out of it. Since his own skill in reading and writing was strictly limited to his own name and a few odd phrases he’d picked up, his inability to understand this jumble of official words was not too surprising.

Mistress Andreth had taken time to read the proclamation before he left, and Rosco had confirmed its contents. According to the two of them, the Mayor had asked neighboring farmers, both Big and Little, to sell their produce to the Innkeeper so that it could be taken to the Pony and stored there safely in the event that protracted war broke out and folk were cut off from their normal sources of victuals and supplies. Still, he would like to have been able to read the words himself to make certain that Andreth and Rosco were right.

He knew that Mistress Andreth had scraped her cash box clean as well as all the extra pots of coins that she’d stashed away in hidden places so that she could offer the farmers a fair price. Mayor Harald had even agreed to let her charge a full penny extra for every visitor staying overnight in the Inn to help defray the costs.

Andreth’s final instructions to Griffo had been simple….. beg, borrow, buy, or steal, but somehow persuade the farmers to turn over the necessary foodstuffs and bring them safely back to the Inn. The only caveat the Innkeeper had added was that all food should be in a form that could be stored for a month or two, or at least prepared so that it would not spoil. There were to be no raw meats or poultry, only those that had been smoked. All grains must be fresh and free from mold, while preference would be given to those vegetables that could be safely tucked away in the Inn’s cellar for a considerable length of time like carrots and onions and turnips.

With these final set of instructions ringing in his ears, Griffo set out from the Inn that afternoon with a convoy of three hobbit farmwagons. Griffo drove the first one; Rosco had agreed to come along in the second since he could read the proclamation to any farmers who did not know how to do so themselves. Sitting up front in the third wagon was Griffo’s neighbor Tom Boffin, a great hulk of a hobbit who was known for his ability to heave and lift. In the back of each of these wagons was another hobbit helper who’d agreed to come along and make sure the food was properly loaded .

To give themselves an easier task for the first day, Griffo and the others had agreed that they restrict themselves to nearby hobbit farms where folk were most likely to be cooperative. They were correct in that assumption. Every hobbit farmer they visited had already heard about the drive to collect food and willingly sold what merchandise they had to be carted off and stored. The main problem came in what type of provisions were actually available for purchase. With the dearth of rain, grain crops had been thin and, aside from a wagon load of turnips and onions, there were no other vegetables or fruits to be had. However, folk did have a variety of items to offer the Innkeeper.

By the end of the afternoon, Griffo had collected a bevy of chickens who were all guaranteed to be fine egg layers; these were stashed inside wooden coops and lifted up into a wagon, along with a litter of half-grown pigs. In the third wagon was a small beehive whose inhabitants were drowsing; Griffo had carefully enclosed the hive in a closed burlap sack. Finally, right next to the sack of bees was a nest of rabbits-- bucks, does, and bunnies-- transported in a wooden crate.

Another farmer had sold them two good milk cows that were now tied with a rope harness to the rear of one wagon, along with an assortment of sheep and goats. All of these animals came trailing along behind the convey as Griffo made his way up the East Road and back into town to the front doorstep of the Pony to the utter amazement of several of the citizens who came out on the streets to watch.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine welcomes the recruits

Guthwine's horse nervously pawed the ground, sensing the impatience on the part of its owner who was now shifting in his saddle and staring at the distant horizon. The afternoon sun hung heavy over the wide expanse of grass and wildflowers as Guthwine leaned over his horse's mane and craned his neck forward, struggling to catch a glimpse of the scouting party since they were now several hours overdue.

This time, his efforts met with success. In the distance, he could make out the shadowy forms of a number of Men, a few riding but most on foot, as they altered their course northward to take advantage of the taller grass and bracken that ran along the edge of the field. Guthwine looked up in surprise. Those scouts he'd sent out from camp did not have the knowledge or talent to hide themselves so skillfully. They must have picked up someone who was wise in the ways of the land and tracking, a skill that could prove most useful at times, especially for an army that must rely on speed and deception as much as their own brute strength.

Impatient to learn more, Guthwine kicked his mount in the withers and cantered towards the approaching figures, heedless of the fact that he was totally open to anyone's eyes who might be venturing nearby. He came up to the group and rode towards Eruantalon who, with Kirima and Soran, now led the band, "You've had success!" Guthwine bellowed, his eyes scanning over the more than twenty recruits who followed along behind.

The boy grinned and triumphantly retorted, "I told you I would!"

Guthwine slowed his horse to a walk and came up alongside Eruantalon asking him questions about what had happened and what men he was bringing back. Guthwine was pleased to hear that one new recruit who went by the name of Minastan, boasted skills of woodcraft and tracking on a level that exceeded any of his own men. This one could prove valuable, indeed!

Quickly covering the remaining ground, the band made its way back to the secluded glade, with the men being ushered into the middle of the camp. Several newcomers went over to a stew that hung simmering over the fire and, without a word, took out their daggers and began spearing a few choice morsels of meat straight out of the pot, leaving the unwanted roots and greens behind.

When Guthwine snarled at them to back off, one recruit returned a brazen stare, "Rudgar told us we could have what we wanted. There'd be plunder a' plenty."

"Plunder there'll be and meat too, but not till you go out and get it. Tomorrow morning you'll ride out in bands and come back bearing the best that Bree farms have to offer. But there will be no reward unless you first learn to take orders." The recruit turned away, gritting his teeth, and then stomped off to the side muttering something to himself.

"That goes for the rest of you as well," Guthwine growled, surveying the bunch. "We have a force at the Weather Hills that's big enough to topple the entire city. But there'll be no plunder or reward for any of you unless you take orders like a soldier."

Guthwine listened as an undercurrent of discontent ran through the group, but quickly cut it off by standing up and shouting, "Now, who's with me in burning down the houses of these farmers. Let's make them pay. Their crops are ours for the taking".

A mighty cheer of approval went up. Gareth, one of the men who had joined the band just an hour before as they rode cross country, leaned over and whispered to his companion in a voice that even Guthwine could hear, "Their belongings too... And I know just the place to start!"

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

[Taralphiel]

Kandel watched the recruits enter the glade. Watching with his head lowered, he smirked at their state. 'Hmph...Rudgar did as best he could I suppose. They are thieves and ruffians of course. They will have to do'

Kandel listened to Guthwine yell for order and laughed a little. Turning from the scene, he went to look for his father.

'Father, you will wish to see this' he said poking his head into his fathers tent...

~*~

Lotar stared at the wall, fingering the hairpin in his pocket.

'Seeing him reminds me of Feanwe.It reminds me of that day. Curse him...'

'Father, you'll wish to see this' Kandel said, breaking his train of thought. Lotar stepped outside and saw the new group of men standing in one corner of the camp, and Guthwine trying to lay down discipline.

'Well, well. What do we have here!' said Lotar, stepping in front of Guthwine and surveying the men.

'I see you have all heard of our plans, and the plunder that awaits you. I promise you you will get your cut if you do your part. But mark me, you step astray and you will get naught but a severe beating or worse. D'you all hear me clearly?'

There were several mutters and grumbles. 'I'll take that as a yes shall I? Good!' Lotar moved towards Rudgar and said quickly 'You got some help and I am glad. But if they fail, you fail with them. You arent out of danger by a long shot boy'

Lotar then moved over to Soran and said 'Well, what do you think friend? Will they do, or are we wasting our time listening to that tired battle horse?' he said cudely, with a nod towards Guthwine...

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran had been staring into the fire, as usual, when Rudgar and his recruits arrived. His first reaction had been to check his (nonexistent) money pouch. They looked remarkably like the type of man he had been accustomed to chasing away with a pitchfork when he still had a farm...Still, they were obviously more comfortable with the use of their weapons than he; some even looked like they enjoyed killing. Which was not one Soran's pastimes.

The only one who looked like a decent fellow was the one called Minastan, or some such name. He looked like a man who was just having hard luck, like the original group. The rest...

"Well, what do you think friend? Will they do, or are we wasting our time listening to that tired battle horse?" Lotar's voice interrupted his thoughts. He didn't sound very pleased himself.

"The only one I would trust not to stab me in the back is that one," he replied in an undertone, pointing to Minastan. "He's a different look about him than the others. More like us." I was hoping that Rudgar would pull through; I was hoping that he would please Lotar and keep himself out of trouble. I think he just dug himself deeper into that hole, and I don't know how to dig him out.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘Indeed,’ replied Berilac to Edward’s statement. ‘You have the right of it, Master Woolthistle. It is a man’s work to protect his town and family.’

The Ranger’s face was grave as he spoke these words, and he nodded at Edmund as he did so. ‘I shall pick you up then with the other volunteers tomorrow after school. We’ll work two hours; then the other team leader and I will escort you and the others home. A number of Hobbit men have volunteered already, and they will begin the work in shifts tomorrow morning.’ He looked up, his gaze taking in Andreth as well as Edmund. ‘We’ll start at the southern end and work our way to the North Gate. Should all go well, we can have most of the holes filled and the rest strengthened in a week’s time.’

Berilac and Andreth spoke for a few moments then he said his good-byes and turned to leave. He paused remembering his visit to the Comfrey house and Everard’s ‘patients’. ‘Oh, and Master Woolthistle, bring your little squirrel, if you wish. There is someone who might like to see him.’ With that, he turned to go.

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

He had only gotten halfway down the street when the loud clattering of wagon wheels against the roadway caught his attention, that and the loud singing that sought to compete with them. Grinning, he ran toward the approaching convoy.

‘No wonder my sister sends you out of the house to run errands and see to the fields. Or that she sees to the milking of the goats herself.’

Griffo, his song cut off mid warble, looked down at his brother-in-law in mock disgust. ‘Are you implying, you poor excuse for a singer yourself, that my voice would curdle milk!’ Berilac arched his brows at the huffing Hobbit as if to emphasize his point. ‘Ah well, you’re probably right,’ said Griffo, laughing. ‘Britnie has even accused me of wilting the leaves of the turnips still snug in the ground.’ The two sturdy ponies which drew the wagon snorted at this and shook their heads. ‘See,’ said Griffo, ‘I have my admiring audience!’

The whys and wherefores of three Hobbit wagons laden with food stuffs were sorted out and Berilac was volunteered by his brother-in-law to return to the Pony with them and help unload. ‘We could use your puny help,’ he said, eyeing Berilac’s lithe frame. ‘And besides, Britnie wants to see you. You haven’t come by as yet. I’ll just strong arm you and take you home with me.’

‘Oh, you think so?! You and what muscle bound brigand will accomplish that?’ Berilac punched Griffo in the arm, who yelped as if he’d been injured. Grinning, and rubbing his upper arm, Griffo pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. Berilac turned back to see Rosco looking up at him. ‘Oh I can take him any day,’ the Ranger said smugly.

‘Perhaps,’ chuckled Griffo, ‘but not the one behind him.’ Berilac took in the massive frame of Tom Boffin on the third wagon. He turned back to Griffo and raised his arms in surrender. ‘I concede!’

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

The wagons pulled in through the archway of the Inn, stopping when they reached the back yard by the stables. The job of unloading and storing began. Berilac saw Edmund standing the shadow of the Inn’s side doorway staring at the menagerie that had landed at the Pony. ‘Come, Master Woolthistle, we have need of more men to help us.’

He motioned him to where Tom Boffin had unloaded the crate of rabbits, the one of chickens, and was now struggling to keep the litter of half grown, squealing piglets from running amok. ‘Find us someplace to pen these little ones in, young sir,’ said Tom, nodding at him. ‘We can get them some hay for bedding later.’ He reached down and grabbed an escaping piglet and penned him in the back of the wagon with his fellows. ‘Oh, and get yourself a little stick, and one for me, if you will. We’ll use them to keep the herd together as we move them.’

Edmund looked up at his mother who had come out to help. His gaze drifted back quickly toward Tom and the waiting animals . . .

[Arestevana]

Kirima sat near the fire, absently stirring the coals at the edge with a stick. She disliked the noisy, crowded feeling the camp had acquired with the arrival of the new recruits. Most of them were talking or laughing loudly, and Guthwine and Lotar were shouting orders over it all. She glanced around, taking in all the new faces. None of them seemed particularly friendly, or trustworthy. No, Kirima corrected herself, the thief from Bree, Minastan; he seems less like a ruffian than the others, though that is likely because he was from the town.

She thought of the journey back to camp, remembering some of the instructions the newcomer had given them. Keep out of the open; Walk with caution; Do not let your cloak catch on a bush or branch! Then Guthwine had come, shouting, to greet them, Kirima remembered with a wry smile. And with the racket the newcomers were now making, even a half-deaf greybeard out for a stroll in the woods would know exactly where to find them.

Her smile faded. "Quiet down!" She said shortly to those who were near. "The forest hears you, and the town's not taken yet!" Kirima stood and walked a ways out of camp, realizing that it was past time to post a sentry. The arrival of the new recruits had put her on edge. She stood gazing restlessly at the surrounding woods, trying to shake a feeling of unease.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Edmund

Edmund did exactly as he was instructed, leading Tom over to a small penned enclosure on the northern facade of the Inn that he and Ban had fixed up several weeks before as a place to bring the wounded animals they collected. There was even a sturdy wooden crate or two mounted on stilts that could be used as makeshift rabbit hutches.

Edmund found one stout stick for Tom and picked up another for himself; then the hobbit and the boy lifted the snorting piglets out of the wagon and down onto the ground. Working together, they drove the animals into the enclosure, afterwards stopping to latch and bolt the gate and make sure the pigs had plenty of hay and water.

A few minutes later and they had found a home for the chickens in a coop adjacent to the stables where the Innkeeper already maintained a clutch of hens for purposes of providing fresh morning eggs. The cow was led inside the stable and given a stall next to one of the horses, since evening was approaching and it would soon be time for milking, while Tom herded the sheep and goats down to the corral where the children usually played at recess.

Edmund stopped to sink his fingers into the thick woolly coat of one of the sheep and slid his head down on the animal's back offering him a hug. But, other than that, the boy worked hard and did not even think once about teasing Tom for only being a hobbit.

The other hobbits had unloaded the onions and turnips and lugged the bushels into one of the storage closets in the Inn. The only thing still left on the wagon was the family of three rabbits. Tom gestured to Edmund to climb up into the back of the cart one last time and bring the animals over to the pen. Edmund brought the three rabbits over, then stood fascinated staring into the hutch and admiring the soft silken coats with their black and white patches. The small bunny looked up at him with round brown eyes and tilted an ear down with his paw almost as if he was saying hello and tipping his hat out of respect. The boy had seen coneys from across the field, but never before had he stood so close to one, able to sink his chubby fingers into the soft shadow coats, to admire the uplifted powder puff of a tail and watch the nose that wiggled in all directions.

Edmund's heart sank to his toes. Why, this was even better than squirrels, and that was saying a lot!

The young lad waved goodbye to Tom and the other hobbits, thinking that perhaps his punishment would not be too hard to bear, at least if he could manage some way to help take care of these animals as well as mending holes in the hedge. And Berilac had actually asked him to bring his squirrel along. Who knows, he pondered, there might be a badger or two in the hedge who was sick and needed a friend to rescue him. Edmund went back inside the Inn in a far better mood than he'd been in for some time.

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

That evening at the supper table, Edmund told his mother all about unloading the wagon. Although Andreth had seen everything with her own eyes, she encouraged Edmund to elaborate his tale, listening intently and asking questions. Dinner drew to a close and a yawning Edmund was sent off towards his bed, tired from a harder day of work than any he'd known in a while.

Just as Andreth was tucking in her son under the blankets, he looked up at her with wide eyes and asked, "The bunnies, mommie. Can I keep them in my room, so they can be friends with squirrel?" Edmund glanced over towards the cage where the tiny animal was curled up asleep.

Andreth hesitated, but then responded, "No, I don't think that's a good idea. It's best we leave them outside in the pen." She bent down and blew out the candle, shutting the door behind her..

Edmund rolled over and tried to sleep, but all he could think of was those soft, sweet conies. As realization began creeping into his mind, he sat bolt upright and sprinted down the corridor towards the parlor where his mother still sat doing her mending with a sock stretched out over the mouth of a wooden cup.

She glanced up from her work and asked Edmund why he had gotten out of bed. He bustled up to his mother and buried his head affectionately on her lap and spoke in a trembling voice, "Mommie, are you going to cook those bunnies in a stew?"

Andreth blanched, wondering what to say. There was no sense lying to the lad, but neither did she want to hurt his feelings. "Edmund, you know how hungry people are. Many are not so lucky as we are to have the wonderful dinners that Cook prepares. I expect those conies will be with us for a while, but I can't lie to you. If the bandits attack and people are hungry, we may need to add rabbit stew to the menu."

The little lad blanched white as he heard the final sentence of doom proclaimed on his family of friends. Edmund was used to seeing chickens and pigs slaughtered and the hunters who brought in the carcasses of deer, but a bunny was another matter altogether. Who could eat something with such a cute wriggling nose? His face registered strong disapproval.

Edmund said nothing as his mother herded him back to bed, just as he'd done for the piglets earlier that day. But once the door was shut, he began feverishly plotting to rescue his friends. For the first time that week, Edmund realized that he could not do the whole thing on his own. He almost wished that he hadn't quarrelled with the other children in his class. Those big lads probably would not help him. He would need to come up with another idea. With that thought sealed in his mind, the lad fell asleep dreaming of a world filled with bunnies, badgers, and creatures with soft, thick coats and bright eyes.

[ November 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Oro and Esgallhugwen's joint post:

It was early morning, and Rosie was already up. Hedgar was still sleeping when she tried to wake Fippi, who was very tired and needed a small to wake up.

Rosie went quickly down to the kitchen and prepared food for Fippi and herself. Some moments later her nice boy was seated at the table eating his breakfast. Hedgar came when Fippi had finished. "So, you're going to walk Fippi to school today?" Hedgar said and gave a faint smile.

"Yes, I am. Together with Poppy and Lily." Rosie said smiling back and then looking at Fippi. "Are you sure you have eaten enough," she said curling her lips together as she didn't believe him when he said yes. "Okay then," she said. "Let’s get ready; I think Poppy and the children will be here soon." She said walking out from the kitchen and out in the entry.

Fippi followed her and waved at his dad. Hedgar gave a short wave back and finished up his breakfast. "You know that I'm going participate in the Hedge building today, right Rosie dear?" Hedgar said loudly so that Rosie would hear him. "Yes, dear. I do know that. I'll be back before then, I think. If I do, I’ll make you a nice cup of tea before you leave." She said and put her small head in the door and waved; "We're off," she said and disappeared. Fippi waved one last time and closed the door.

Poppy was now standing in the yard with the children. "Hello, Lily," Fippi said as he saw her hiding behind his mother. "Hi," Lily said in a thin voice. "Hello Poppy dear," Rosie said and smiled. "And hello to you too, Lily." She said and clapped her on the head.

"Shall we?" Poppy said.

Rosie stood beside Poppy with Fippi close behind. The Lady Hobbits walked up the road to gather the remaining children when Rosie quietly asked Poppy "so Poppy my dear, are you worried about the ruffians that will be coming?"

Poppy thought this over for a few seconds getting her thoughts together "well, to be honest, yes, I can't help but be nervous especially for the children and all, I'll do what ever needs doing, but I wish there wasn't the threat of fighting heavy in the air." Rosie nodded with the same concern in her eyes.

They both decided it would be best not to talk about it with the children around, so their conversation turned to the weather and other such casual matters. "It's a wonderful day today isn't it, children?" Rosie beamed at the children both Big and Little.

Some nodded and the younger ones giggled at the funny shapes the clouds had put themselves into. Once all the kids had been gathered up from their houses they merrily went on towards the Inn.

"Well, here we are. All of you be good in school now!" Poppy smiled and gave Lily a kiss on the forehead, Rosie kissed Fippi on the cheek, Fippi blushed hugging his mom than scurrying into the school room along with the other children.

[ November 23, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Hedgar

Hedgar paced around nervously in the hallway. In about half an hour, Berliac would be here, to pick him up. The hobbit grinned, he had actually volunteered for this. Hedgar shrugged, not believing this, not one bit. He heard footsteps of his wife, coming from the kitchen. She had been escorting some children to the school this morning, and had just come home. She handed Hedgar a cup of tea, when she found him in this nervous state. "Here you go, dear," she said cheerfully. Rosie was very excited about this, and she seemed to be pleased by Hedgar's 'new-positive' attitude towards the situation.

The male hobbit settled down in his chair, but raised soon, Berliac was here. He said his farewells to his wife, and made his way out, where he greeted Berliac with a firm handshake. The two hobbits left the hole and followed the road.

"So, do you think we'll manage to keep those bandits out of our town?" Hedgar asked, having a certain doubt in his tone. He could remember how he once had escaped from clutches of the Witch King. It had been a horrible time, where he had been afraid constantly. It was still tearing on him, in other words; it was not a very good memory. The worst part was that now something horrible was yet again threatening him. But this time he had a son and a wife, whom he both loved dearly; he had much more to lose now.

Berliac answered optimistically, eyeing out of the corner of his eyes, Hedgar's worried expression. The two of them walked on, changing the subject to something which concerned merrier things.

Hedgar grinned as they approached the South Gate, where some other Hobbits waited for them. The reparation of the hedge was about to begin.

"Some of the children will be here later this afternoon. They are currently at school," Berliac announced. "But I guess we'll have to try to get something done while we're waiting for them.." he continued. They had a good laugh; everyone was getting in the right mood to help this town being prepared for whatever was lurking there, on the outside.

[ November 14, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac had gotten up long before the sun rose. He needed to get into Bree early, and was riding in with one of the farmers delivering some cheeses to the Inn.

He’d spent a very enjoyable evening with his sisters and their families. Both lived on the far outskirts of Staddle; their burrows and small holdings adjacent to each other. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his own little girl until the covey of nieces and nephews came running out to meet Griffo’s wagon as it pulled into the yard.

Cries of ‘Mommy, mommy! Look who’s here!’ mixed with the delighted laughter of the children and the Ranger as he jumped down from the wagon and scooped up an armful of children. Britnie came running out, wiping her hands on her apron. She was followed by Goldie and her husband Tomlin. The two families often spent dinner time at each others burrow, and from out the opened door came the heady scent of fried mushrooms and a savory stew.

Berilac took much good-natured abuse from his younger sisters about not coming to visit sooner, not writing more often, and why hadn’t he brought Fairlight and their niece, Alyssum. ‘I swear, Beril, she’ll be handfasting before we ever get the chance to see her!’ said Britnie, slapping him lightly on the arm. They were somewhat mollified with the small ink drawings of her and her mother he had in his chapbook.

‘Go on!’ said Griffo, as the sisters cooed over the pictures of Alyssum at various ages. ‘Go on,’ he repeated, nudging Berilac with the stem of his pipe. ‘Tell ‘em the rest of your news.’ The twins’ heads snapped around to look at their brother, expectant looks on their faces. ‘News?’ they chorused.

‘I was just easing into it,’ he said lamely, knowing he was in for it now. ‘Fairlight was in no shape to be traveling with me. Not that I would have brought her into this danger anyway.’ Britnie stood with her arms folded tight against her chest, her foot tapping ominously. He grinned up at her with devilish glint in his eye. ‘That . . . and the fact that in just a few days, you should be aunts once again!’

Just in time his keen Ranger instincts kicked in – Goldie had thrown a small pillow at his head. He ducked and it went winging past him to hit Britnie on the hip. What followed was a good-natured melee – both sisters, followed by the squealing children, fell on him wrestling him to the ground. The cooler headed husbands, knowing better than to interfere when the siblings sorted things out, sat back in their chairs, pipes in hand.

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

When Hedgar and Berilac arrived at the southern end of the Hedge, there were already ten Hobbits waiting for them. Another seven would be coming in soon, one of the men said; some were bringing wagons with large pieces of various broken items that had been put in the refuse heap and some were bringing in good-sized leafy branches pruned from the forest trees.

‘Until then,’ another Hobbit pointed out, ‘we can use these branches we gathered from the lumber miller’s place at the top of the hill.’

Berilac brought out his notebook, passing it round for all to see. The shapes and sizes of the holes were discussed, as well as what would be adequate to do the repair. The Hobbits took off their cloaks and stowed them on one of the carts. ‘Well, then,’ said one of the brawny lads, rubbing his hands together, ‘let’s get to it, men.’

Hedgar and Berilac each dragged a number of branches to the nearest hole and began to wedge them in place, working from the outside face of the hedge to the inner. The work went on apace for several hours, with additional supplies brought in as promised, and the added surprise of several of the Hobbit wives bringing down large flasks of sweet, hot tea and filling oatcakes mid morning.

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

It was nearing noon, and the Hobbits just stopping to eat the lunches they’d packed along, when Berilac excused himself from the group. ‘Just going to the Inn to get the children,’ he explained as he hurried off. ‘Reinforcements . . . be back soon!’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

Guthwine glared over in the direction of Lotar and Soran as the two finished up their conversation concerning the new recruits. If truth be told, Guthwine had hoped for better material than this motley crew and, like Soran, thought the best of the lot appeared to be Minastan who, thankfully unlike the others, was not a complete wastrel and crook. Still, he was not about to admit this to anyone.

Guthwine grimaced, took a step forward and hurled back Lotar's words into his face, "A tired battle horse, am I?" The members of the band stood frozen in place with expressions taut as they pondered if a confrontation was about to break out between the newcomer and the leader of their scouting band.

Guthwine swept his eyes over the circle of recruits, placed one hand on his sword belt, and inexplicably burst out laughing. "Well, perhaps you're right. One look at this crew would give any commander a case of foot-dragging."

Guthwine strode over to Lotar and pulled him quietly aside, "Say what you will to the others. But it's time this band did some damage in the neighborhood, and I know just the place to start." Guthwine nodded over in Gareth's direction and raised his voice for all to hear. "I believe that one there has a good notion of a farm that's ripe for pillage." All eyes in the circle turned to focus on Gareth.

[ November 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Gareth, the bandit

Gareth scratched at the back of his dirt begrimed neck as he stood up. ‘Well,’ he began, spitting a nasty looking gobbet on the ground beside him, ‘I met this fellow up past the eastern end of the town. Lives just past that bunch of Hobbit holes in Staddle, I think they call it. Up north a ways from them, anyways . . . kinda all by itself the farmhouse was. Got a pig farm there, smokes hams and sausages, bacon, too.’

The others were beginning to fidget, irritated by this rambling approach. Guthwine cleared his throat and nodded at Gareth, telling him to go on and get to the meat of his information.

‘Well,’ Gareth started off again, ‘it was sort of strange . . . it was early morning, and I was going to pass by the place . . . anyways, I was a little way down a small track among the trees leading away from this guy’s place when I hear him calling after me . . . wanting to know if I wanted to buy something. He looked like he was well enough off, and I wondered why he would want to come after someone he didn’t know. I told him I only had a few coins, and he said he was sure he could make me a deal. And sure enough, I got me a length of fine, fat sausages.’

He scratched his neck again. ‘The wife looked none too friendly, especially when he dragged me into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Didn’t offer no biscuits or nothing with it, but I did manage to have a quick look round while I sat at the table. Keeps a cash box, or so it looks like, on the top of his cupboard just inside the door. Nice cutlery, what I saw in the dish drainer – and there was a pair of silvered candlesticks on the parlour mantel that I just got a glimpse of when we went in – probably have more silver hidden somewhere. Big toolshed. Nice big garden, too. And a big smokehouse, filled with meats waiting for the winter.’

Gareth grinned. ‘He wanted to know if I had any friends what might be interested in his goods. Guess the answer would be yes to that one, eh?!’ As a last thought he looked toward Guthwine. ‘I can show you the place if youwant. Be real easy to hit and run.’

He sat back down, his information delivered. Thoughts of those tasty sausages played in his mind as others spoke up about making a plan.

[Taralphiel]

Kandel took a stand by Kirima for sentry duty. He could still hear the rucus back in camp where the new band of men was congregated. But the two loudest voices belonged to Guthwine, and Lotar.

'Hmph, father is going to bring every ranger known to man here' he said with a smirk 'Guthwine should no better than to test him out'

Turning to Kirima, he said 'In all this I didnt get your opinion on the worth of these men. D'you think they will put up a good fight?'

~*~

Lotar listened to the man tumble on about sausages, and grit his teeth. But when the words 'cash box' and 'silver' wove into his sentances, he sat up and took notice.

'Well, it seems we have found something' he looked at Gareth. 'Good work' He eyed the rest of the group. 'Make ready to head on over for tea and sausages tomorrer boys. But remember your warning...'

Lotar stood back and watched the group buzz about in anticipation. Saying nothing to Soran, he walked away, passing Guthwine.

'This is my camp, my job. Understand that' he said icily as he set out for his tent...

[ November 16, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

Guthwine glared back at the retreating figure of Lotar and then fell into reflection.

Would the man never forget that the two of them had set their eyes on the same woman so many years before? Could he never bring himself to stop fighting over something that was dead and buried? That part of this life was over. He had a wife of his own and children whom he loved. His laughter in front of the men had been intended as a gesture of reconciliation. Yet Lotar would seemingly have none of it.

Feanwe....what a beauty she'd been with her long silky curls and her eyes full of laughter, her skirts swinging out like rippling waves as she danced through the night. Let Lotar sulk and do as he wanted. It still did not excuse the fact that, if the man had acted, Feanwe might be alive today.

Could a cat really change his spots? If Lotar acted, Guthwine would not intervene, whatever his personal desires. But if the man hesitated, even once, he would not sit idly by, doing nothing. This time he would act...

To the others, he merely shook off the words with brusqueness and shrugged his shoulders. "Leave him be. Before this is over, there'll be plenty of room for each of us to show our mettle. Let's just hope, for the sake of those back in the Weather Hills, that we can stay the course."

[ November 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth and Kali:

At the end of the morning, the children had gathered up the scraps of their lunch and put away their slates, tucking an apple or two into a satchel or vest pocket for a later snack and then wandering over to the side door to wait. For the most part, the schoolday had gone smoothly. The youngest ones were making good progress with deciphering words and writing out letters; those who were older were already reading simple stories and helping to list and count the foodstuffs that had come in by wagon, adding up the figures in neat, orderly rows within a special ledger. But the favorite activity of all seemed to be taking care of the animals. The children provided the beasts with fresh food and water, gathering up the eggs and helping to milk the cows, laying down clean bedding in the pens and corral.

Andreth led the class down the steps and into the yard where they could romp around and play for a few moments before leaving. Peering down the road, she could see Berilac approaching the Inn from a distance and, close behind him, those parents who had volunteered to take the other children home. She quickly counted noses and discovered that two of her class were missing: Mausi's son Kali, and her own boy.

Her initial response was concern. Edmund had stayed out of trouble in the classroom, but he seemed preoccupied and upset, and was still not mingling with the other children. She would not put it past him to be playing a prank on Kali or even starting a fist fight. Leaving one of the serving girls in charge of the group, Andreth hastily skirted the perimeter of the Inn, trying to find where the boys had disappeared. She finally discovered them inside the pen that had been set up for the conies and piglets. Kali had taken out one of his sheets from school and turned it over on its back, as he stared mesmerized at the family of rabbits. His fingers held tightly onto a small stub of chalk that he was using to sketch an amazingly lifelike drawing of the animals. Edmund remained about five paces in back, saying nothing but staring at Kali while the hobbit lad worked, and with a worried expression on his own face that made him look much older than six years. Too tired and overworked to think about what any of this might mean, Andreth gently collared the two delinquents and herded them back to the others as she watched Berilac wave his hand at her and beckon several of the children to leave with him.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

The Ranger counted noses before leaving. ‘Mondy, Ella, Kali. Fippi. Lily and Kari. Willowfain, Rollo, Randy. Marigold, Pearl, and Hamson.’ And there just coming to join the group was the Innkeeper’s son, Edmund, with his squirrel tucked in his shirt.

The children were full of news about what they had done at school, all vying for the attention of Berilac to hear their story. Like a flock of small birds chirping and twittering, the children skipped and hopped about the Ranger with far more energy than he. Needless to say, it made for a quick trip to the southern edges of the hedge.

The Hobbit men had accomplished quite a bit of the work by the time the children arrived. There were a number of the smaller holes they could not fit into, however, and soon the young volunteers were dragging in their branches from the nearby pile to jam into the branches of the Hedge. Hobbit and Man-child worked together well – the larger children dragging the branches to the smaller ones who crawled inside the holes. Every so often, Berilac would call a halt to their labors, and have them come out for a drink of water and a chance to rest a bit. Though if truth be told, it had become somewhat of a game for them, not work. And often they downed their water then ran back to see which team could fill their hole more quickly.

Berilac noted that Edmund had joined the group that Kali, Willowfain, and the Comfrey children, Pearl and Hamson, were in. He would have to let Andreth know they seemed to work well together, and that Edmund and Kali had managed a few pleasant words between the two of them.

His attention turned to the group with Mondy, Ella and Marigold, and one of the twins, Rolly. They were working at the last finishing cram of a branch or two to their hole, and then they would be finished. Little Lily and Kari were also working quickly, with the able assistance of Fippi and Randy.

The Hobbit men moved further along the southern edges of the Hedge. Berilac sighed – his fears that this project would take far too long were beginning to diminish. If they could just keep up the work, the Hedge might just be fortified before the assault began.

[ November 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nova’s post – Hedgar

Hedgar sighed. This was indeed heavy work. "We might want to have that branch over here," a Hobbit called, turning his head towards Hedgar. The miller held the branch and dragged it towards the spot where the other hobbit stood. "There ya go," Hedgar said happily, being proud of his 'performance'. He eyed the children’s arrival at the same moment.

Instantly he left the hobbit, who took the branch happily, and went to see his son. Fippi approached, being in eager conversation with the other children.

"How was school, sonny," Hedgar asked, being merry at heart. Hopefully his son hadn't been shot at with peas, Fippi's father thought, having a concerned face expression. Fippi laughed and answered, soon being off again with the other children. Hedgar watched his son follow Berliac, the hobbit seemed to have enough work for the small ones to complete.

The hobbit men carried on, working well together as a team. It was quite a merry atmosphere, where everyone tried to help out in the best way possible. "Hedgar, would you mind?" the male hobbit came towards him, asking him for some help with the hedge. "Sure," Hedgar replied, taking his eyes off his son, who was currently having a wild battle with a branch, he couldn't get a hold of. Hedgar smirked, as he followed his companion.

"I'll take this side, and you'll take that side," the Hobbit said. Hedgar bent down, cautiously, taking a good hold of the branch.

"May I help?" another Hobbit asked, taking the branch. He dragged it even nearer to the hole, without making a grimace. He placed it carefully, clapping his hands. "Well..." Hedgar said, smiling.

[ November 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Fippi

The school had been great this day as well. Fippi liked school very much, and also the company of the other children. Now that Berilac had taken them all to the hedge it was even better. Fippi was quite fond of the Hobbit-ranger and he wanted to be like him when he grew old.

This day his dad, Hedgar, was also working and he smile when he saw Fippi coming. "'ello, son," Hedgar said and gave Fippi a stern clap on the shoulder. "You're joining us, eh?" He said and smiled even wider. he seemed very proud of his son.
"Yes, dad." Fippi said in a thin voice and followed the other children.

Then the branch-dragging began, and the small children did very well. They filled the holes that the adult Hobbits didn't manage to do.

Lily, Kari, Fippi and Randy were working on their hole. "Need any help?" Fippi asked Lily as she tried to lift one of the bigger branches. The little girl smiled and accepted. Fippi took a good grip and lifted the branch. They were soon finished, and the four of them were very proud of the work they had accomplished.

"Look!" Kari said. She was pointing at a small insect on the branch. Fippi saw it and gathered the two others that were standing too far away to get a look on it. "What is it?" Lily asked, she was almost sounding afraid.

"Nah....It's just a small insect," Randy said to Lily. "I know that." Lily replied. "But what kind of an insect?" Lily asked again. Fippi didn't know so he shrugged. The others did so too. Lily gave faint smile. "Oh, well," she said. "We should probably finish this up," Randy said after a few moments with complete silence.

[ November 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post - Edmund

Edmund worked hard alongside of Kali, making certain he never looked at the hobbit boy, but keeping careful note of where he was at all times. Every so often he would check on his squirrel to make sure it was doing all right, and felt a thrill run through him every time the large brown eyes met his own. He would smile fondly at it and then tuck it away again with the utmost gentlest.

As much as he tried to ignore Kali, he could not help but think of the hobbit's talent for drawing animals. After seeing a few of the sketches, Edmund began to wish he had a drawing of his squirrel, as well as of the bunnies, as they would soon be gone. Oh, yes, that was cruel. His mother was very cruel. How could anyone even consider destroying the lives of those fluffy white (with adorable black patches) bunnies, with their beautiful and mild eyes? If only he could think of some way to rescue them. "I wouldn't care if everyone in Bree died, as long as they didn't eat those bunnies," Edmund muttered to himself.

Kali's head shot up and turned towards Edmund. "Did you say something?" he asked, his voice quiet. He couldn't be blamed for it. When he had tried to speak to Edmund in the past, he had been rewarded with some sharp reply. He received no better this time.

"Yes, I did, but I wasn't talking to you," Edmund said, turning his head away. He realized that he had been rude and, not knowing if Berilac could hear or not, made up for it by speaking again. "But if you really want to know, I said I'd want all the people in Bree to die, if they didn't eat the bunnies." That would satisfy everyone. It was very polite, and his mother couldn't put him in the kitchen with Cook for being polite.

"Oh." Kali was silent for awhile and concentrated on his work, but his mind as well as his hands was working. "Well, I wish the bunnies wouldn't be killed, either. I didn't really know that..." He hesitated. "I wonder if they could be rescued somehow."

"That's a silly thing to think," Edmund said scornfully, but inside he felt pleased. Maybe he could use Kali to help him rescue the bunnies. If they were caught, the blame would be put on Kali. But a little hobbit would be a lot quieter in rescuing them than a seven-year-old boy would. Kali might be useful... he'd have to see if Will thought anything of it.

Once again he checked on his squirrel, this time taking a few extra moments to stroke the small head. Kali had also stopped working and was watching the two of them. The squirrel put one little paw on Edmund's finger and the boy giggled with delight. Turning with a broad smile to Kali and completely forgetting himself he said, "That's the first time he's ever done anything like that."

Kali smiled back. "He's a great squirrel," he replied. "What's his name?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought of a good name yet. I just like to call him my squirrel. That seems a good name for him now." He sighed wistfully, his finger very still so the squirrel would not withdraw its paw. "Mamma says I'll have to let him go when he's fully better. He was injured, you know, and I rescued him and took care of him. But I don't want to let him go because I'll miss him, and someone might hunt him down..." His voice trailed off and his lower lip trembled a little. "I have nightmares about it." Kali said nothing, but looked up at Edmund with eyes full of sympathy.

Edmund continued. "Mamma says I could find another injured squirrel, but I love this one best. If I found another hurt squirrel I'll take care of it, of course, but I don't want to let this one loose."

"Maybe after we rescue the bunnies we could save your squirrel from being let loose," Kali suggested.

"Who said we're going to rescue the bunnies?"

"Nobody." Kali shrugged. "I just have nightmares about them getting killed."

"I had a nightmare about it. But how could you? I only just told you about it."

"I had a nightmare just now," Kali replied innocently. "I saw the bunnies being killed in my head."

"Oh. Well, if you call those nightmares... Mamma says those are imaginings, but I think they're nightmares, too. I also had nightmares about it." They thought about these 'nightmares' for awhile before Edmund realized who he was talking to. "Well, it was a silly idea," he said, his voice growing harsh again. "We can't rescue them." But he began to think.

[ November 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]