Breelanders All! RPG

[piosenniel]

Annunfuiniel's post - Rosco

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Piosenniel's post - Berilac

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________________________________________


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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Child's post - Andreth Thistlewool

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Beren87's post - Minastan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Nurumaiel's post - Edmund

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Golden's post - Uther

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Asa's post - Elmerith

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post - Harald

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

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

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

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

“This beats mud,” observed Telien.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Arwen Baggins' post - Alvinac and Kari

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Esgallhugwen's post - Poppy and Mungo

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post - Hedgar and Fippi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Taralphiel's post - Lotar and Kandel

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Arestevana's post - Kirima

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Tinuviel of Denton's post - Soran

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Eruantalon's post - Rudgar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth, Proprietor of the Pony

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Novnarwen]

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

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

__________________________________________________ __________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Chathol-linn]

Harald the Mayor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Taralphiel]

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

[Orofaniel]

Rosie & Family

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Arestevana]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Beren87]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ArwenBaggins]

Alvinac

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

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

~*~

Kari

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

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

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

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

[Esgallhugwen]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Orofaniel]

Rosie & Family (Hedgar and Fippi)

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘Breelanders All!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Annunfuiniel]

Child's post: Mausi

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Novnarwen]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ArwenBaggins]

Kari & Alvinac

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Esgallhugwen]

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

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

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

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

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

[Taralphiel]

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

“People of Bree!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Arestevana]

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

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

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

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

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth Speaks to Alvinac

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ArwenBaggins]

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

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

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

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

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

[Eruantalon]

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it that you want from us?”

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

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

[piosenniel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Novnarwen's post - Hedgar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pio's post

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

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

[Tinuviel of Denton]

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

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

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

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

[Taralphiel]

Kandel watched her run off, and kicked the dirt. He knew he must have hit a nerve with her, or else the townsfolks words had bitten her. Thinking there was nothing else to do, he chased after her. Searching through the trees about the camp, Kandel wondered about a few things. His humour was the only way of stopping such cruel accusations from hurting him. He had met so many others that simply swayed to those remarks and gave up on all dreams of happiness, becoming bitter, and very often dark souled. Those were the men, if any, that came close to such descriptions. Thinking about this often set him in a less than cheerful mood, so he put it out of his head.

He soon found Kirima sitting by the camps fire. He paused for a while, wondering if he should say anything at all. He had every idea that he might make the situation much worse. But rather than stand there sheepishly, he took a seat beside her.

‘I really have to apologise miss. I meant no hurt by what I said, quite the opposite. Humour keeps me out of black moods, ‘twas all I could think of to do..’ he paused, thinking she was about to say something…

~*~

Lotar tried to keep a bemused smile when addressing the boy. He found him alltogether a little arrogant. But a chicken thief or no, his numbers were dwindling. He needed help if he was going to reach his goals, and help all the band do the same.

‘Well lad. You are enthusiastic, I’ll give ye that. Prowling about these roads at night is often not the safest thing for a chicken thief. And interrupting the conversing of two bandits is no better’ he said with a mocking tone. ‘But we’ll not turn you out on yer heel. We could use someone with some skill, and weve not had a volunteer for a good while’

Lotar made a sideward glance at Soran. He had a good scowl plastered on his face, and in other circumstances Lotar would as well. He read his friends face well, and knew he did not trust the boy as far as he could throw him. But Soran would say little about it.

‘What is your name’ Soran said quickly

‘I am Rudgar’ said the boy with a small flourish

‘Well Rudgar, lets head back towards camp and see what time brings us. My father always used to say that actions speak louder than words. You’ll have your chance yet to prove me on it’

[piosenniel]

Cami's post

There was a hubbub near the front of the crowd as a small, bent woman with bare feet and a mop of white curls pushed forward to speak. Andreth had gone over to stand beside Kira and her father and now craned her neck to try and get a better glimpse of what was going on. She could see Lilac Greenbur hobbling to the front with her cane, a look of intense concentration reflected on the older woman's face.

The impassioned rhetoric of the Rangers on the need to unite and defend the town had had its desired effect. For the first time that evening, the Big Folk in the crowd, and even most of the hobbits, all seemed to agree on one basic thing: the need to do something immediately to whip the city into shape and begin working on a plan that would allow them to crush any armed assault that was sent against them by the outlaws.

Lilac walked up to the table and pounded her cane against it, making a series of loud thumps in an attempt to get everyone's attention. When those around her failed to quiet down, Minastan stepped up and roared out a warning, telling folk to stop talking for a minute so they could hear old Lilac speak.

Lilac turned to face her fellow Breelanders, most of whom she'd know from the time they were babies. She knew their good points and their bad, their generous hearts and their impulsive nature, how they had trouble seeing more than one side of a question, but would work like the dickens if they thought there was a wrong to be righted or a child to be defended. First, she glanced towards the Rangers, and snapped out her questions, "Minastan and Berilac, are you two so very sure these are dangerous outlaws who are only intent on mounting an attack on our city? I thought I heard you say they were turned out from their own villages by the troubles to our east, the same troubles that brought the Little Folk here. My guess is that these are hungry folk who've lost their homes and kin. Maybe what they're really searching for is a place to settle down. Maybe, if someone went to talk with them, and offered them some help, we'd be welcoming them as neighbors instead of having to fight them."

Before either of the Rangers could respond, Big Tom Farroweed shouted out his defiance, "Hold yer tongue, Lilac Greenbur. What do women know about outlaws? You heard what the Rangers said. These be dangerous folk. Do you want to git us killed? Because that's what will happen unless we let them know we're not afraid! In fact, in my book, we should go out and attack them in their own camp before they git a chance to come at us."

Andreth put her hands on her hips and stared at the man. She could truly not abide any of Will's family. "That's enough!" she retorted. "The Rangers have told us our defenses are in poor shape. So how can we talk of going out and attacking people in the open countryside, leaving the city unguarded and all of our children without protection!"

Tom scowled and glared back at Andreth, "So you agree with that weak-kneed Lilac? That we should go talk with these folk instead of fighting them?"

Andreth thought a minute and looked over at Lilac. She had known the older woman for a good many years, and had benefited from her good judgment many a time. But she could not bring herself to speak out on Lilac's behalf. Working with the Little Folk who came in peace was one thing. Working with folks whom the Rangers said were dangerous was quite another. And lurking at the back of her mind was the little voice reminding her that brigands had slain her husband Bergil and she owed it to him to take a strong stand. Her response came swiftly, "No, Tom. I don't agree with Lilac. Whoever goes to speak with men like these can only risk their own lives. Who could even trust them enough to dare approach their camp? I think the only way out of this situation is to be ready to fight and fight hard. Only I want us to have a sensible plan."

When Andreth stepped back into the crowd, Lilac hobbled over as fast as she could and feistily responded, "Andreth Woolthistle, maybe you be right, and maybe not. But I am afraid that, because of what we decide here tonight, folk on both sides will die. And maybe, just maybe, this could have been avoided. Remember that!"

Andreth shook her head as she watched Lilac leave the plaza and trudge back in the direction of her house. Perhaps, Lilac was right, and perhaps she wasn't. But Andreth had reached the point where taking a strong stand seemed the only right thing to do for her own son and for the other families who lived in Bree, both the Big and Little Folk.

[Chathol-linn]

Chathol-linn’s post – Harald, the Mayor

Harald touched the red scarf about his neck. But no one could see it in the dark and in any event no one was noticing him. I must bring some order, Harald thought and realized he would have to shout.

“Breelanders!” he yelled, suddenly unsure. How different was this wild night council from the decorous day meetings his mother had held. Meanwhile the voices finally died down to a murmur. Harald took a deep breath, for he was determined to sound strong.

“You have heard the Ranger Minastan! No one has disputed his word. I myself believe him that the outlaws are indeed on their way to us.”

They gazed at him. “So what’s to be done?” cried a faceless voice. It quavered, as if tired – or afraid. The wind blew cold.

The Mayor asked for Minastan to address this question . . .

_______________________________________

Beren’s post - Minastan

"Noble people of Bree, we rangers cannot hold back this tide alone." Minastan's eyes looked out over the quiet crowd sternly as he spoke. "We have worked diligently to protect your borders, and your farms from brigands of the wilderness. The defenses of Bree have been beaten down by age and neglect to the point that they will do nothing to turn back these bandits."

The gatekeeper, an old, weathered frame of a man, called out from the crowd, "I've been telling these folks that that gate has needed repairing for years!"

Minastan nodded down to him, approval upon his face. There was no way any of this would get done without agreement like the gatekeeper had shown. "And this is the time for it! We must begin to repair these ancient defenses. This will take cooperation from the entire town! You can all help us in this task."

"The big folk, both young and old, men and women, can aid in rebuilding the walls and gate. Your smithies can arm the men of this village and it's surrounding areas. We must start now! There is no time to lose. The little folk of this town can aid us all as well, we must work together! My friend, Berilac will aid you in rebuilding the hedge and dike in ill-need of repair. Your talents are needed!"

Minastan's voice came down from it's deep bellow as his speech ended. The hobbit ranger nodded in agreement as he stepped back from the crowd, their voices raising in whispers.

_______________________________________

Pio’s post - Berilac

From the stone bench on which he stood, Berilac watched the faces of the Big Folk as they listened to Minastan speak. They nodded their heads at his words, their faces beginning to think how they might work together. ‘This is good,’ he thought, ‘he’s got them really listening.’ The positive feeling did not last long however, the mention of the Hobbits brought a few rude remarks and scattered snickers. And to be honest Minastan had glossed over the fact that the Hobbits were perfectly capable of deciding what was needed and seeing it done quite skillfully. They needn’t be thought of as assistants to the Big Folk at all – given a project, they had the resources to bring it to a successful end themselves.

Berilac shook himself mentally. It would be best if the two groups would work cooperatively. It was difficult given a challenging situation such as this not to start thinking competitively.

He heard Minastan’s last words, and saw the Ranger nod toward him. There were whispers from the front of the crowd as he stood tall to speak, wanting the Hobbits at the rear of the crowd to see and hear him.

‘My companion has covered the needs well,’ he said in a clear voice, a nod of his head acknowledging Minastan. He turned his gaze then to the Mayor. ‘What we need to do tomorrow is start forming into groups - each taking a particular task to accomplish. If we break this large project, of shoring up the defenses of Bree, into more manageable sections, the whole will be easier for us to get done in a timely manner.

‘I think the Mayor may know best what the town folk can do, the Big Folk. And maybe he would be willing to organize them in some way.’ Berilac nodded at Harald, and continued on.

‘I would like to have the Hobbits meet with me and my brother Rosco Woodfarer early tomorrow morning, to plan what our part in this will be. I don’t know what Rosco might have in mind for you as yet,’ he said, directing his attention to the Hobbits who had begun to creep up closer around the edges of the crowd to hear him. ‘But I will be willing to work with you on the repair of the Hedge.’ There was an audible gasp from the Men at this bold statement. Little Folk! Repair the hedge!

Berilac spoke over the murmur. ‘I’ve already assembled a group to help me inspect it. We’ll be meeting tomorrow.’ He winked at Kali who had squeezed beween two tall Men and stood grinning at him. ‘Before you Hobbits leave tonight, I’d like to get a few more volunteers for this part of the project. Once we’ve done that, we’ll figure out the next steps.’ Berilac could see the Hobbits standing in groups of twos and threes, their heads already bent toward their neighbors in discussion.

Kali went running up to where Berilac stood, and the Ranger bent down and picked up the boy in his arms. ‘It’s late,’ he said laughing, as Kali waved back to where his mother stood, 'The little ones should be in bed by now. Perhaps the Mayor can say a few more words and then we’ll all go home and meet again tomorrow.’ There was a rustle of movement and the murmuring voices of Big And Little Folk raised in agreement on this point. Berilac stepped down from the bench and walked back to where Mausi and her other children stood. His brother Rosco stood just a little apart talking in earnest with several Hobbit men.

Mayor Harald, raised his hand and drew the attention of the group toward himself, waiting for them to quiet just a little . . .
________________________________________

Chathol-linn’s post

“You must all help! Big and Little, women and men, and yes- even children may have tasks in this defense! Let’s do as the Rangers have suggested!

First – inspect the outer defenses, hedge and dike! Second – assemble all our guards. See if we have enough people and weapons to arm them. Third – take thought for those of us who live outside the town . . .”

The townsfolk began to protest again.

“- because our foodstuff comes from the outlying farms! Next, we would do well to gather more information about these outlaws. Can we find someone to make a plan and go? Finally – we must not quarrel!”

They took this in silence. Harald felt better. It had been a good idea to let them get their feelings shouted out. Of course they could have turned into a mob, his other thought said.

He said,“Telien, you will began at once to assemble all guards and check all weapons. Tonight.” In a lower tone he said, “Increase the patrol, and keep yourselves sober! If anyone fights, put them in the lockup. But use no unnecessary force.”

The Captain of Guards warned, “Our numbers are few.”

“Telien, you may talk to me when you have some hard information. Now – anyone interested in helping to check the hedges - gather on the eastern side, under the torches. We need several folk and a leader to keep track. And we need the same for the dike. I ask you, and all those who have ideas for gathering information and protecting the farms to see me tomorrow. If the Innkeeper agrees, I will be in her largest private meeting room.”

To Harald’s relief some people began to drift, talking, toward the torches. They were still lit, thanks to the Hobbit helpers.

“What about us Hobbits?” cried a voice with a thick country accent.

Harald replied, “I will open the town hall tonight. Any Hobbit who has no lodging at inn or friend can stay there.”
_______________________________________

Pio’s post – Berilac

Berilac hurried to the back of the square, wanting to walk along with those who were heading back to the Town Hall. He knew some of these folk, having met them on those times he had come back to visit his brother and sisters and mother.

He could see the new families he had just met leaving the square. There was Hedgar, with his wife and son. An a little further on was Poppy with little Lily, both holding onto the hands of Mr. Goldworthy.

His steps quickened as he caught sight of Griffo, Britnie’s husband. They clapped each other heartily on the back and exchanged quick bits of news. Berilac’s sister’s had stayed home with the children, as had Goldie’s husband, Tomlin. Griffo had been in town getting the wheel to his wagon fixed. And now he was stuck here for the night. Berilac sympathized with the other man – he knew his sister well. She would fret and fume until he returned home. Then she would settle down and listen well to him, he knew also. A lot like his mother, his sisters were. Homebodies at heart with iron resolve once they’d made their minds up on a matter. And like his mother, they would lend a ready hand if things needed doing.

The catching-up done, Berilac turned to talking to Griffo about how they could bring in the outlying Hobbits and their families when it was needed. Rosco, he was sure, would help organize this – but he urged Griffo to lend a hand with the folk he knew.

He was surprised when Griffo said he could also speak to some of the Big Folk who lived near his own holding. Griffo laughed seeing the incredulous look on his brother-in-law’s face. ‘We live far from town, Beril! Out there we have to depend on each other a little more.’ He crossed his hands over his chest and nodded his head. ‘Though I’ll admit that there are still times when the air between us is strained. Still we lend a hand when it’s needed.’

They walked toward the Hall, joined here and there by various other Hobbits who had been locked in. Beril bid good night to Griffo when they reached the door of the Hall. ‘Let’s talk more tomorrow,’ he said, seeing the number of farmers getting ready to bed down. ‘Perhaps you can get some ideas from the Hobbits here. I’d like to know what they’d be willing to do – how they see they can help. Then I can talk it over with the Mayor.’

‘Will do,’ said Griffo, waving him off as one of his neighbors called out for him to come over and hear about the price he was getting for his cabbages. ‘Tomorrow then, it is.’

_______________________________________

Chathol-linn’s post

“Mayor! How do you like your new job?” Many people laughed loudly at this. Harald was grateful the darkness hid his red face. He did not need to get angry now, not when the people were showing some sense.

He jumped down and walked through the crowd, heading up town to open the hall. If anyone would come tomorrow with solid ideas or help, he could not guess.

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

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie and Fippi

Fippi

The meeting was over, and Fippi had started to be quite tired of all of this. All he wanted to was to go home, and maybe do some tree climbing. Yes, that was what the small boy enjoyed most in this world. Even though he was small and slim he had no problems climbing the highest trees in the area.

Fippi didn't realize that he had been day dreaming for quite some time, when his mother "woke" him up. He could then feel the biting night cold in his fingers and toes. His body was all stiff, and he had lost his feeling in his hobbit ears. They were quite red and cold as ice.

"Come on dear," His mother said to him. "We are going home now, the meeting is over." She added when she saw that Fippi was confused over what was happening. He took her hand and then they started walking. Hedgar followed of course.

~*~

Rosie

There they walked. Hand in hand, Fippi in the middle of his parents. Rosie help Fippi’s hand, and so did Hedgar.

The cold had gotten a tight grip around Rosie as well. He red cheeks were a sign of this. She could also feel her numb fingers, and her cold nose. To touch her nose was almost the same feeling of touching pure ice.

They had been walking for quite some time, even though they had walked pretty fast. When Rosie finally got a glimpse of their mills in front of them, she said :" Fippi, why don't you run in the front, so me and your dad can discuss something."

Fippi looked on Rosie with great eyes. "Does that mean I can climb some trees until you come home, mum?" Rosie and Hedgar laughed, before any of them could answer their son.

"Of course, son, just don't climb too high now, and be careful since the darkness is coming over us." Hedgar said to his son, giving him a clap on the head. Rosie looked up on the few stars that already had come to sight. There were only a few, and Rosie knew that there would soon be more of them. She had this worried look in her face when she said: "Fippi, be good now, and go straight home, and nowhere else."

Fippi gave a short nod before he started to run slowly. His speed was soon rising and when he was far enough off, Rosie opened her mouth to start the discussion of Berilac's offer.

Rosie didn't get far. Hedgar had interrupted her, if you could call it interruption. Before Rosie had the chance to say anything, Hedgar had already said what she had been thinking of. Rosie was stunned. Why was Hedgar suddenly so....positive about all of this?

Hedgar looked at Rosie, "Are you alright, dear?" he asked anxiously. "Yes, of course I am. I'm just stunned of what you just said. That you actually like the idea!" Rose smiled at him and he white teeth were shown.

"Sorry, dear." Hedgar said surprised. "But I think you misunderstood." he added. The look upon his face was queer. He knew that he was soon going to disappoint his wife deeply. But he felt that he was obligated to tell what he'd really been saying.

Rosie looked at him with great eyes. "Sorry," she said. "I misunderstood? What did I misunderstand, Hedgar?" She continued.

Hedgar gulped, he was now blushing. "I didn't meant to be unclear, Rosie, understand that before I continue." he said. "As you've always known, I dislike the big folk. This 'offer'....that Fippi is going to this 'school'....I don't think it's a good idea." Hedgar finally blurred out.

Rosie's eyes went blank. Te tears were not far away. Hedgar obviously noticed that because he stopped walking and then he took her hand. "I didn’t mean to offend you, Rosie. You know that dear." Hedgar said.

"Yes, of course I know that." Rosie said. "I only wished you'd give 'em a chance, that's all." Rosie sniffed. She looked into the man's eyes and wished that Hedgar for once shared the same views on certain things as her.
_____________________________________________

Novnarwen's post - Hedgar

"I didn’t mean to offend you, Rosie. You know that dear."

Hedgar gulped, he had done it again.

"Yes, of course I know that." Rosie said. Her husband noticed the tone in her voice, not a very pleasant situation to Hedgar, though; he felt that this conversation was needed. "I only wished you'd give 'em a chance, that's all." Rosie continued sniffing, only to make him extra uncomfortable, Hedgar thought.

They wandered, now silent, listening to the small puffs of wind making the leaves trickle. "You know what?" Rosie burst out, looking strictly at Hedgar. He knew he had lost this one, but didn't say anything. It was her time to speak.

"This is Fippi we are talking about. Isn't this his choice? You cannot decide whether Fippi is going to like the Big Folk or not," she sighed. "Hedgar, I can't either decide this. Fippi has to experience this himself. It's good for him. We cannot choose whom he is going to love and whom he is going to hate,!" the woman continued.

The Hobbits had stopped walking. This was very unfair, Hedgar thought. First of all, he had never said he hated the Big Folk. He had expressed his other feelings towards them, though. Nevertheless, Rosie, was a bit naive, Hedgar thought. Didn't she realise that these people were..... Were... The male hobbit interrupted his own thoughts by sending a reply to his wife:" Then, what do you want me to do?" Hedgar breathed heavily, this was the worst thing he had ever done.

"Let Fippi go. Let him go to the school. Let him get his own idea about how the Big Folks are. In this was he can make his own choice." Rosie stopped, shaking in the cold night.

The male hobbit, Hedgar, took her hand. "We'll leave it to him then. If he wants to go with this Berilac tomorrow, then I'll have no objections," Hedgar said, glancing ahead, wondering if Fippi had made his way home safely.

~*~

Novnarwen's post - Fippi

Fippi stormed the last tree, jumped down brought a branch with him as he fell. He rolled down on the grass, having leaves and other tree belongings in his hair. Victory, he thought, smiling to himself. He raised feeling his legs shake. As he gazed upwards he realised how huge that tree was and how far he had jumped. Fippi was over pleased.

He ran the few paces towards his house, seating himself comfortably by the door. He sat waiting for his parents, who were definitely having one of their small fights. He sighed. Fippi really wanted to go with this Ranger. The Rangers were heroes, just like Fippi wanted to be, or at least admired. If you were a hero nowadays, you earned respect by being in peril or travel far.

“Ah.” Fippi said to himself in a wondering voice. He wondered what his parents were discussion, whether they would let him go with Berliac or not. The little hobbit child himself, was convinced that his father would be strongly against it. And in some ways Fippi didn’t want to do anything which could hurt or disobey his father. He thought about this for a while, before he started to hum on a well known song.

“Sitting here all alone, are we?” Fippi’s father and mother had just arrived the little hobbit hole. Fippi looked up; he had dozed off in the cold night. Hedgar took a grip around the boy, lifting him in and through the door. Rosie followed.

“The Ranger,” Fippi said. “Can I go with him tomorrow?” he asked.

Rosie and Hedgar nodded, urging Fippi to bed.

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruantalon]

Rudgar started to walk behind his new associates smiling along the way. They have a camp at least. He thought to himself as he went down the path. He noticed something as he walked. Lothars front pant pocket moved while he walked. Opening and closing as he went down the road. Hummmm threes my chance, he thought.

He started walking behind them for a few seconds. The two didn’t notice since they seemed lost in thought. Rudgar slipped his hand inside the pocket. He knew just where Lortars blind spot was and what angle to slip his and in at. The only thing Rudgar got was a woman’s hair pin. A strange thing for a bandit to carry he thought. Well what ever reason he had Rudgar had it now. Maybe this was his wife’s hair pin or his daughters. Well he would probably find out when they got to camp.

The two walked along without even noticing the small event that had just happened. This is what he was best at. People not noticing him. He made no conversation with them as the three walked along. Now what would Lothar do when he realized it was missing. Maybe I should just hand it to him went I get to there camp?

That’s what I’ll do he won’t even know its gone that’s probably the best way. Rudgar wasn’t always the brightest. This could vary well have been a major mistake. Rudgars brash and brazen ego had to be stroked. So this was his way of just showing off a little. Unfortunately this probably wouldn’t be the last of his pranks.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth - immediately after the meeting

The meeting had at least turned out better than Andreth had initially feared. Retreating towards the Inn, she glanced back over her shoulder for one final look; the torches flickered and died as both Big and Little Folk streamed out towards their homes or wherever else they had arranged to spend the night. She sighed and shook her head. Perhaps the worst of the bickering was behind them, and they could go forward with the long list of preparations that the Mayor and Rangers had outlined in their speeches.

Andreth vowed to do her own small part by trying to get the children to trust one another and work together, however different their backgrounds might be. But would this be enough? All the good intentions in Arda would not turn back the arrows and blades that would soon be raining down on their heads. And what did she know of weapons or fighting? What practical use could she possibly be? She was an Innkeeper, not a warrior or scout. She could turn out dozens of meals at the drop of a hat or find places for folk to bed down when there were seemingly no places left. But handling a sword or dagger was beyond her.

And then the realization hit. With a shock of recognition, Andreth reflected that swords and arrows were not the only important weapons. No soldiers could fight, no people could endure, unless they had nourishment and rest.

She remembered something Halfred had said in the very last speech he had given: Take thought for those who live outside the town.... because our foodstuffs come from those outlying farms. It was clear that the many hobbits and the few Big Folk living in places like Coombe, Archet, and Straddle would need to be brought within the protection of the hedge and dyke. But what about the crops themselves?

What if the bandits were so enraged that they burned the fields to the ground? And just how long was this battle supposed to last? If it was all settled in just a few hours, then no special preparations would be needed.

But what if the first assault ended in stalemate, and Bree came in for a protracted siege? The folk on the outside would have free access to whatever supplies they could gather; those within would not be so lucky unless they'd had the foresight to stock up on things ahead of time. The fields were being harvested right now. While the crops wouldn't be as bountiful as in a year with plentiful rain, there should be at least some provisions that could be brought into the city and stockpiled in preparation for the assault. With these thoughts in mind, Andreth detoured down a long alleyway and headed in the direction of the town hall, determined to see Harald before retiring for the night.

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


Andreth was not totally pleased with the answer that she received from Mayor Harald. But nothing more could be done about it tonight. Tomorrow she would try again.

With this thought in mind, the Innkeeper arrived at the Pony, bounded up the steps and hurried inside, stopping to check on Edmund who was still curled up sleeping nestled deep inside his blankets. She popped a kiss on his curly head, and went running down the hall to the kitchen where Cook was dozing near the fire with a dish of cookies and a half-filled mug of warm milk set down on a table beside her.

"Wake up! Wake up! And get the girls up too! We've something to do that can't wait for the morning. We'll need to clean out one of the old, dusty storerooms tonight so there's a place for our school. And tomorrow, once the breakfast serving is ended, you and the lasses and the stable boys as well will need to scrub down all the half-empty cupboards and storerooms and the sheds in the back."

Cook looked at Andreth beseechingly and rolled her eyes. "And what, pray tell, are we doing this for?"

Andreth quickly responded, "The children are coming tomorrow morning, both the hobbits and the native Breelanders. They'll spend a few hours here each morning where they can practice their reading and numbers. And, after that, I'm expecting wagons filled with foodstuffs, dozens of them coming in over the next few weeks. The children will help sort and list all the different supplies and keep track of how much of everything there is. That way they can learn a bit, and still be helping with some of the preparations that the Mayor said we must do."

"My goodness, Mistress Andreth! You have it all figured out. Only one thing? How do you propose to get all these wagons for transporting the food and supplies? And the willing arms to carry and haul? And are you sure that the farmers will be so eager to donate to this cause?"

She turned around and snapped back at Cook, "They'd better be willing. If they want to save their necks... And, as for the other, I've already talked with the Mayor. I was hoping for a group of burly young men to scour the countryside and haul in the supplies. Mayor Harald says that finding those volunteers may be a bit hard right now, but I suspect that I'll have a little army helping me by the end of the week!" With that Andreth started back to her room to compose a list of the helpers she would need, leaving Cook and the servers in a very foul mood as they grumbled about their lack of sleep and decided which storeroom they would clean up first.

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Alvinac and Kari

After telling a few more friends of the school proposition, Alvinac decided that he and Kari needed to get home 'to be ready to get up bright and early to get clean for school'.

"Come on along. We've got a long walk back to the cabin." Alvinac heaved the girl onto his shoulders and started to walk toward a dark alley, which lead to their cabin on the walls of the city.

[Arestevana]

Kirima sat near the fire, gently stirring the pot of water and herbs that sat in the coals. She heard Kandel enter the clearing. "I really have to apologise miss," he said. "I meant no hurt by what I said, quite the opposite. Humour keeps me out of black moods, ‘twas all I could think of to do."

She shook her head and glanced at him, attempting a smile. "You were not at fault. I should learn from your example and stay my despair. It helps me little in these dark times."

She grew quiet, seeing Kandel cock his head to listen to something. She heard the slight disturbance in the forest sounds, probably Lotar or Soran returning from wherever they had gone off to. Kirima reached to stir the pot again.

[ October 14, 2003: Message edited by: Arestevana ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac’s sharp ears caught the exchange between the two women. He was just coming to the Inn after having seen his brother-in-law to the Town Hall for the night. It was a fair night, and the window in the kitchen of the Prancing Pony had been left open for the breezes to cool the always warm area where the ovens were.

It had been his intention to speak briefly with the Innkeeper. He had heard from some of the families that she was intending to run a school starting the next day, and he wanted to let her know he would be picking up a number of the children when classes were done. Now he had heard her idea of needing to bring in supplies for the town. Perhaps they could dovetail their efforts and get this task accomplished together.

He stepped up to the small porch at the kitchen door, and knocking firmly called out, so as not to frighten the two.

‘It’s Berilac, Mistress Woolthistle. Mausi’s Ranger friend.’

The door opened a crack, and Andreth’s face peered through it. He stepped back, so not to seem imposing. ‘Berilac,’ he repeated. ‘We met in passing at Mausi’s home earlier today.’ He paused while she took his measure, then opened the door a bit wider. Taking this as an invitation to continue, he began, ‘I was wondering if I might speak with you for a moment?’

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

[Taralphiel]

Lotar parted the trees and sauntered into camp. Casting his glance about he spotted his son sitting with the girl by the fire.

‘Hah! So youre back boy! What did you get out of your ventures then?’

‘A lot less than you by the looks of it old man’ he said with a nod towards the boy behind him.

‘Ah’ said Lotar with a snort ‘He’s just a chicken thief fancying some adventure, so I thought Id consider granting him some. But come now, I need that mapping’

Lotar took a seat by the fire, and Soran joined them, nodding politely to Kirima. Lotar noticed Rudgar buzzing about and rumbled ‘Well, come on then. Take a seat. You would appreciate to know what our business is about I suppose. And what is that grin all about hm?’ The boy bowed his head quickly and took a seat.

~*~

Kandel stirred a stick about in the flames if the fire and said ‘We seem to be expected. The Rangers know we are here. They have told that village, and they seem to think that we are a good enough threat to worry’ Lotar’s brow furrowed at this, and Kandel knew his mood was about to take a turn.

‘Indeed those Rangers have gotten those villagers excited. They seem to think we are servants of a Dark Lord even. They anticipate an all out war! Though with their organisation, little may be done about it. Those Big and Little Folk don’t seem to get things done too quickly combined, they are too busy debating!’ Kandel said with a laugh.

‘Well, they expect a war. We shall have to give them one!’

‘I harldy think that wise father...’ Kandel said, but a flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

The thief was fiddling with something in his palm, after having lost interest in the conversation. Kandel did not take long to figure out what it was. In an icy tone he said ‘I think you should watch that that chicken thief keep to chickens before I get to him’ Kandel slipped his hand to his dagger belt, and that was all his father needed.

Lotar saw the hairpin and the boys’ sheepish but sly grin and roared ‘What on this Earth! You think to rob me of all I have!’ he lunged at the boy and took him by the shirt collar, quickly taking the pin away from him. ‘I suggest you watch yourself very carefully boy, your welcome is over’ Lotar threw off his grip and stormed out of the clearing.

Kandel was not one to keep his anger too long. But this boy had unwittingly chosen the worst thing to pilfer from his father. That hairpin had belonged to his mother, and was one of the only thing either had to remember her by. Kandel only had sweet memories of his mother and sister to comfort him. Standing up, he said ‘Boy, you did not choose wisely if you were planning to prove your skill to us. I am not one to hold such choices against a person for so long, but my father is. You will have to do a great deed to make that up to him, but your chance will come. Patience is my advice to you.’ Walking out of the clearing and letting out deep breaths, Kandel went in search of his father.

‘Hmph. It’ll make me a good while to get him out of this rage. What a day…’

[Annunfuiniel]

Rosco stood on the edge of the steadily emptying town-square. Motionless like a stone statue cloaked in grey no-one took notice of him. And he liked it that way.

“Where on earth have you been? I’ve looked for you everywhere! How could you miss this meeting? I…It was so terrible and…” Mausi’s voice carried a multitude of different tones clearly reflecting her state of mind. Rosco, now brought back from the depths of thought to the present, tried to form a reassuring smile on his face. Then, realizing that the darkness around them veiled his expression from her, he took her hand and gently but steadily started to lead her towards her house.

“I’ve been right here the whole time. So I didn’t miss the meeting. I just…didn’t participate.” Rosco’s answer had at least one effect: it managed to end Mausi’s perplexity and change it into pure anger.

“And how does that make things any better, pray tell! The Big Folk nearly beat us and you…! You decide to stay quiet!” Mausi shoved off Rosco’s hand and turned to leave, then turned back and opened her mouth for more accusations. But this once she managed to put her sharp tongue back behind her teeth before saying something she knew she would regret later. “Oh, what’s the use!” were her final frustrated words before she once again turned on her heels and dashed away.

‘Wait!’ died on Rosco’s lips and his outstretched arm fell inert back to his side. She’s right…and wrong. Had I opened my mouth at the beginning of the meeting things would most likely have taken a turn for worse. She knows how I am with the Big Folk… But Rosco knew also that there was no use in trying to explain his motives to Mausi that evening: when they were arguing she had the skill of twisting all his sound reason into excuses. What’s the use… Rosco unconsciously echoed Mausi’s last words and began his trudge against the icy north wind.

* * * * * * *
Mausi jerked open the front door and then nearly slammed it shut; remembering only at the last moment that the children were sleeping. As the door was thereby out of question as the target of her outburst of rage Mausi found a replacement in her scarf. After some ill-tempered tugs and pulls the result was a hard knot.

“Just what I needed…” she muttered, chucked the contumacious garment on the floor and strode into the kitchen.

Warm, silent darkness lingered in the room and Mausi felt it surround her comfortingly. But more over she sensed the smell of the cookies they had baked earlier that day. I need something sweet… she thought and felt her way to the side table where she knew there was a candle.

The flickering flame cast curious shadows on the floor and walls, reminding Mausi of the torch-light that had twisted the forms of the Big Folk towering around her in the town square. She shivered - both of cold that the warmth of the kitchen had not yet dispelled from her limbs and of the unpleasant memories of the evening. I don’t understand him, she mused while going through cans and jars in search for a leftover biscuit or two; But who does?. A triumphant ‘aha’ marked the successful ending of her search and for a while also the ending of her musings.

Munching her treat, Mausi returned to the hall where the scarf still lay in a miserable bundle on the floor. Snorting at her own childishness she picked up the cloth and untied the knot without much effort.

The sound of steady, light breathing greeted Mausi as she entered the bedroom. For a while she just stood on the doorstep and listened. Sighing she finally let all the tensions of the day flow out of her. “Tomorrow is a new day”, she whispered the phrase which simple, indisputable truth gave her strength.

Placing the candle on the bedside table Mausi first turned to the boys’ bed. Mondy slept peacefully, his light-brown curls covering his face; Kali on the other hand had, as usual, turned and twirled in his sleep so that now his head was where his feet were supposed to be and the only thing left to be seen of him from under the blanket were the tips of his furry toes.

Mausi pressed a kiss on Mondy’s curls and did the same for Kali after she had revealed his head from under the covers. Then she turned for the other bed and for Ella. The girl’s silky locks spread over the pillow like a golden cloud; the little hand still clutched her dear rag-doll. Feeling herself dead-tired and yet unwilling to leave the three darlings Mausi took an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and curled up beside Ella.

Tomorrow is a new day.... the thought drifted into her drowsy mind. Tomorrow… And suddenly her eyes flew wide open. The school! Tomorrow is the first school day! Sleepiness was gone – anxiety returned.

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Before Andreth could get more than a half dozen steps down the hall, there was a sharp rap on the kitchen door; she hurried back, turned the latch, and opened it an inch or two, peeking through the crack. Cook came scurrying just behind, her plump fingers securely wrapped around the handle of a hefty cast-iron pan. She peered around Andreth's taller form and strained to catch a glimpse of who was standing on the steps, suspiciously eying the intruder. "Anything wrong, Mistress Andreth? Is this fellow giving you problems? Can't be too careful in times like these!"

The Innkeeper turned and emphatically shook her head, "Oh, no! No problem at all." She went on to explain, "Cook, this is Master Berilac, the Ranger who addressed the meeting tonight. I expect he's come on business."

Cook cautiously eyed the stranger and muttered something under her breath about how the hobbit looked even smaller close up than he'd first seemed in front of the crowd. Andreth blushed with embarassment and beckoned Berilac inside, hastening quickly through the kitchen and down the stairwell to the small nook on the lowest floor that served as her office. The ceiling was barely high enough for Andreth to stand up without hitting her head on the rafters.

Once inside, the Innkeeper gestured for Berilac to sit down and offered a brief apology, "I'm sorry about Cook. You'll have to excuse her. People are jumpy with all this talk of bandits and assault." What she did not say, although it was equally obvious, was that Cook had had few dealings with hobbits and tended to view them with unabashed suspicion.

"Your office?...." the Ranger observed, glancing around the room. "It looks a bit like a burrow,"

Andreth smiled and nodded, "So I've been told before! And, now that I've seen Mausi's house, I understand what your people meant. I had the room put in just two years ago by Master Rolo, one of the craftsman who hails from Coombe. There was a tiny unused space under the stairwell, and he swore he could turn it into a livable office, even for someone who's my size. I haven't been sorry. It's my hideaway where I come when other things get too bad."

Berilac looked up and laughed, "And tonight was one of those nights?"

"Yes, I'm afraid it was. But there's no use dwelling on that." She shrugged her shoulders and pointed towards the mound of scribbled papers still scattered about her desk. "I'd just like to figure out a way we could gather in some of the crops from the surrounding countryside to store at the Inn. I talked with Master Harald about it, and he agrees it's essential. We could be in for a long siege, and our stock of foodstuffs may make the difference. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem possible, at least not now."

Berilac looked up and politely inquired, "But why?"

Harald says most of the Breelanders with wagons will be helping to re-dig the ditches and then hauling away the dirt to shore up the fortifications on the northern side of town, where the damage is most extensive. He's working on getting more volunteers, but who knows how long that will take? I had hoped Minastan could help. But he only looks at me and mumbles some vague excuse that he won't be available for some time."

She sighed and shook her head, "I don't know what we're going to do. The children can help sort and list the things, if we can just figure out a way to have them hauled back to the Inn."

She glanced over at Minastan and added half apologetically, "You know, we need some big burly types who aren't afraid of long days and hard work. Gathering in all those crops one or two loads at a time will be back breaking labor, I fear."

"And, now, Berilac," she added, "what can I do to help you?"

[ October 15, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran sighed heavily as Kandel followed Lotar into the woods. Rudgar was going to have some interesting times trying to make up for this little faux pas...it could get interesting to watch, though Soran felt rather sorry for the young fellow.

Rudgar was so much like Rik, full of the joy of life, of excitement, of himself as well. It was one of the things that tormented Soran; he'd been so harsh on his son for being impudent, and then...and then...the old man shook his head.

"Rudgar," he said quietly. "There are much better ways to prove yourself to us. And those ways are much less likely to make enemies. Try fighting with us, instead of against us. Even if all you did was pinch a hairpin, Lotar isn't going to forget this very quickly." If he forgets at all... he added silently to himself.

"That's what he said," muttered the boy, nodding his head towards Kandel's departing back.

"He said it with good reason, and you would do well to remember it. I would suggest that you turn your skill at being 'invisible' to avoiding our leader. If he can't see you, he can't shoot you."

[piosenniel]

Berilac suppressed a chuckle as Andreth led him into her ‘hideaway’. There were piles of papers, precariously balanced on her desk, the top of which he could not see. Discrete piles of papers, her own filing system he presumed . . . and books with narrow ribbons of paper marking important passages piled happenstance on the floor. On the two shelves that hung precariously on the longest wall were more books wedged upright between two pieces of interesting rock as bookends; a dusty bouquet of dried flowers, tied up with a now frayed blue ribbon; a small oval, framed portrait of a man’s face – his eyes smiling and a laugh lingering on his lips. Numerous other small items he could not make out in the dim light of the little lamp she’d lit were scattered here and there in the empty spaces along the length of the shelf.

‘She’s a Hobbit at heart!’ he thought, glancing about the room. He felt comfortable here in this oversized burrow, the familiar clutter of it reminding him of his own study. All it needed were a few old maps pinned here and there, and it would be like home.

He listened carefully to her ideas and her disappointment in the answer she had gotten from the Mayor. And as she spoke, he was already planning how he might offer the services of Griffo, his brother-in-law, and for that matter, those of Tomlin, too. Her words wound to an end with a question, the rise of her voice at the end of it prompting him to refocus a bit from his woolgathering.

‘Big and burly. And not afraid of a hard day’s work. They would need wagons, of course, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The big wagons used for haying would be ideal. It could all be brought down to Staddle in the smaller farm wagons, then hauled in with the haying wagons through the South Gate . . . Yes, that should work . . . and if Griffo could get some of the Big Folk to help out . . . they could see to the Men’s farm’s . . .’

He glanced up, noting that she was staring at him, a perplexed look on her face. ‘Oh, you’ll have to excuse me. I often think out loud. It irritates my wife no end at times.’

He sat forward in his chair and told her about his talk with Griffo at the end of the meeting. At that point he had only been thinking about getting the outlying families brought in safely when the time came. Now, he said, with her suggestions about stockpiling food, he didn’t see why the two tasks couldn’t be combined. Crops first and families to follow, he said. ‘And as for big and burly and not afraid of a hard day’s work, I'd put my brothers-in-law, and for that matter any of the Hobbit farmers I know, up against any of the Big Folk!’

He grinned at her, saying that of course it would be ideal if it were more of a combined effort and less of a competition, but he would take either to see the task accomplished. ‘Why don’t I just bring Griffo to see you early tomorrow morning, if that’s all right with you? He’s at the Town Hall for the night, and I said I would speak with him again in the morning. We should be able to hammer some rough plan out among the three of us, don’t you think?’ He was about to say his farewell at that point and head back to Mausi’s for the night, when the original purpose for his coming to see her resurfaced.

‘Oh, I’d almost forgotten,’ he said, ‘I came to tell you I would be picking up a number of the children tomorrow once classes are done. They’ll be helping me on a project. Can you tell me what would be a good time to come by?’

[Orofaniel]

Rosie

Fippi was aloud to go to school tomorrow. Rosie and Hedgar had agreed that Fippi was the one to decide. If he didn't like him there he didn't have to go back, that was the agreement. Rosie thought this was a wonderful idea and was very happy for her son. He had now the opportunity to actually learn something useful, and perhaps get some new friends. She just loved the idea, and she was very pleased that Hedgar had taken this very nicely and calmly. Rosie had believed that Hedgar wouldn't like this at all; oh well, he didn't. In his own way, he had accepted it, but he had his doubts of course.

When Fippi had gotten to bed, hopefully having sweet dreams about the next day, Rosie started to bake. She wanted him to bring food when he got to school; he shouldn't go there all hungry and so on. She tried to do it quickly because she was quite tired after a long and busy day, but it was all in vain. Rosie was that kind of person that baked everything when she was only supposed to do things as quick as possible. She just had to do it. It was almost like she was forced to do it by her own mind. But she enjoyed doing it, so it didn't really make a big deal.

Hedgar arrived the kitchen after closing up the mills for the night. He was more than willing to taste Rosie's baking. Rosie also served him hot tea, and he seemed pleased. They both seated at the table, to discuss the errands of tomorrow.

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Eruantalon]

Lotar parted the trees and sauntered into camp. Casting his glance about he spotted his son sitting with the girl by the fire.
‘Hah! So you’re back boy! What did you get out of your ventures then?’
‘A lot less than you by the looks of it old man’ he said with a nod towards the boy behind him.
‘Ah’ said Lotar with a snort ‘He’s just a chicken thief fancying some adventure, so I thought Id consider granting him some. But come now, I need that mapping’
Lotar took a seat by the fire, and Soran joined them, nodding politely to Kirima. Lotar noticed Rudgar buzzing about and rumbled ‘Well, come on then. Take a seat. You would appreciate to know what our business is about I suppose. And what is that grin all about him?’ The boy bowed his head quickly and took a seat.
~*~


“Lotar your a nicer person it seems. Witch isn’t needed in this craft. You have to, see and be willing to, take a chances. “

Nodding to Lotars son then too the other people in the group sitting near him. He produced a hair pin and held it out to Lotar. Smiling like a fool. Thinking Lotar would be surprised and complement him on his stealthy skills he awaited complements and respect.

“Now this should show them what kind of thief I am.”

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar went out to close the mills. The night grew dark as he made his way to the Hobbit hole again. He shivered, when thinking about the day tomorrow, when his own son Fippi, would be socializing with the Big Folk. He shook his head, but decided not to tell his objections, which were still eating him, to his wife, Rosie. She had thought so highly of him, to let Fippi decide. Hedgar would not ruin that impression, not now anyhow.

Inside, Rosie hummed making her husband some tea. "There you go," she said, while giving him a big cup with a hot content. Hedgar smiled, sipping his tea without giving any comments. The male Hobbit tasted Rosie's baking as well, before he made his way to the bedroom, where he undressed and took the pillow over his head.

He muttered a good night to his wife, when she entered the room, and then he fell to sleep. With the thought of Fippi, the school and the hobbit Ranger, Berliac, Hedgar slept through the night, without awakening one single time.

[ October 19, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth

Andreth smiled at Berilac and reassured him, "That should be no problem. You can pick the children up right after mid-day. We've suggested they bring along a small bucket with food to eat at school so they won't get too hungry walking home. I know some of them have a ways to go." This was especially true for the hobbit children, since, by preference, many of their families had delved burrows a good ways up on Bree-Hill, over half a mile east of the Inn.

Andreth said her good-nights to Berilac and escorted him through the Inn-yard and out the archway, with a promise to see him on the morrow. She barred the heavy gate that stood facing the East Road, checking the latch twice to be sure that it had actually engaged. Cook might be worrying too much about hobbit visitors, but Andreth admitted that she did have a point. In times like these, everyone needed to take extra precautions.

Her own sleeping chamber lay on the ground floor behind the parlour and the Common Room, directly across from the kitchen and a private dining area. Her footsteps lagged as she wearily made her way towards her room, reflecting on what Berilac had said. She hadn't had the heart to tell him 'no', but she had serious doubts about the ability of such small folk to be able to bring in so many wagonloads of crops and supplies.

Still, perhaps it would work if these small folk only dealt with other hobbit families. She made a mental note to herself to speak with Mayor Harald the next day and see if any progress had been made on recruiting more of the Big Folk who could volunteer their time and efforts gathering up the crops and hauling them into town.

With a dozen thoughts still spinning in her mind, she lay down on her bed and gazed out the window, wishing for the tenth time that evening that her Bergil could be here to help. But wishing did not change anything. He was not here so she'd have to do the best she could on her own. With a sense of unrest, and a nagging feeling that she had overlooked something important in all her plans, she quickly fell into a troubled sleep, tossing about in her bed, until the rooster's crow awoke her at the earliest hint of dawn.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Annunfuiniel's post for Rosco:

Rosco pulled his cloak closer around himself and trudged towards the North Gate. The houses of Bree were all behind him; only the gatekeeper’s cottage loomed ahead with a twinkling light marking its window. Rosco knew that the gate was closed – or that at least it should have been so. I could easily slip by him, the hobbit thought of the gatekeeper and sneered; That drunken fool!

Yet he didn’t want to take the risk of getting caught: it would have been unbearably embarrassing! So, instead of walking to the gate, Rosco left the road and vanished into the shadows of trees and bushes on his right. The Breelander who says the Rangers brought in real news about the bad shape of this town’s defences is either blind or has lost the last remnants of his wits! Rosco puffed as he pushed through the undergrowth towards what he called ‘a travesty of a hedge’. “There are no holes in that hedge but some hedge in a hole!” The words he had uttered to his brother at Mausi’s that same morning rang in his ears and he remembered the look of disbelief that had passed over Berilac’s face. Well, tomorrow he’ll learn if I was exaggerating…

Still deep in his musings Rosco arrived at the hedge and slipped through the first hole that he met – which, to tell the truth, was right under his nose. Shaking his head he walked on wondering how on earth they would ever get the repairs done in time. Working together with the Big Folk didn’t really sound like a feasible option to him; yet he knew in his heart of hearts that it was the only solution. One option is no option but a necessity…

And added to all these dark thoughts were the words that Mausi had thrown at his face. Actually Rosco instinctively knew that – against all reason - he couldn’t concentrate on the burning issue of ravaging bandits before he had talked things through with Mausi.

As Rosco finally admitted this fact to himself, he reached the road he had left just minutes earlier. It ran along the skirts of Bree-hill, winding and twisting like a snake towards Staddle, Combe and Archet. Rosco hesitated. All he wished was to turn back and go to see Mausi: try and explain to her why he did what he did. But things weren’t that easy. Even if he had gone through the trouble of walking back there was no reason watsoever to believe that Mausi would have listened to him, let alone talked with him.

What’s to explain? I have done nothing wrong! Rosco tried to reason, but he didn’t manage to convince even himself. True, he had done nothing wrong...but nothing right either. But she and the kids are sleeping already. I can’t go there now, he reasoned. Knowing no better, he listened to this little voice of hesitation inside his head and resolved to return to Mausi at the break of dawn.

But even before he could take another step the familiar sound of cartwheels reached his pointy ears. Instinctively he stepped back ito the shadows beside the road and, holding his breath, waited for the comer. Whoever it is, it can’t be good news---that thought took form right when a pony and a little cart came into his sight. Rosco strained to see properly in the thickening darkness but couldn’t make out the form until finally the driver passed him by.

Hamson! Rosco thought - but obviously failed in the attempt to keep his thoughts to himself as the old hobbit suddenly pulled his pony to a halt.

“Away! There be nothin’ left to steal, you filthy thieves!” Old Hamson’s reaction came as a total surprise to Rosco who for a fleeting moment seriously thought of running away before his neighbour could find something within arm’s reach with which to defend himself. But somehow he managed to suppress the urge and instead of taking to flight he stepped forward from his hide.

“Hamson, it’s me, Rosco Woodfarer! What thieves are you talking about? Is there something wrong?”

“Mr. Woodfarer! Thank goodness… What be you a-doing sneaking in the shadows like that? Aye indeed, wrong is as wrong gets! Thieves and robbers, walking around like they own the land!” And the old hobbit went on describing in detail what had happened to him - and his bread - earlier. Rosco listened and tried to figure out what to do; then, seeing Hamson’s grey, wrinkled face in the pale starlight he made his decision.

“Come now, we’ll make it back to Bree. For from what you’ve told me it seems wiser to try and get into the safety of the town…” …though what safety we'll find there I’m not sure! Trying not to let his dark mood effect his tone, Rosco continued: “I know Mausi will take you under her roof for this night so that you don’t have to wake up and worry your son and his family. And tomorrow I’ll see to it that the roads are made safe again!”

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Arestevana]

Kirima stood up, having half a mind to go after Kandel and Lotar. She took two steps and paused, realizing that it was better to let them go. She recalled Kandel's muttered comment, "It’ll take me a good while to get him out of this rage. What a day." Guiltily remembering how she had run off after the scouting expedition, the firmly pushed any thought of following the two out of her mind.

She turned to see Soran talking quietly to Rudgar. The lad had doubtlessly recieved more advice in the last several minutes than he preferred. Still, he didn't seem to realize how high tensions ran in their camp. She removed the pot from the coals on the fire's edge and tested the water inside. It could pass for tea, she decided, and filled a small cup. She handed the cup to Rudgar, who took a sip and grimaced. Kirima shrugged. It was tea, but only if you were creative.

Setting the pot down, she took a seat on the ground and spoke to Rudgar, knowing he was annoyed with their advice, but not knowing how else to help. "I realize that you did not mean to offend Lotar, and I believe he does as well," she said. "I do not know what value that pin held for him, but he will find it hard to forgive you. We are not a band of theives. We seek food and shelter for ourselves and others camped at Weather Hill. All of us have left behind our homes and kin. Why? Because those homes have been burned. Our kin are imprisoned or cruelly slain. Do you think we would join such a band if any of our families lived? You cannot stay here unless you realize this. You will be hard set to avoid further offending our leader. I hope he feels more kindly toward you on his return, for you remind me of my brother and I hope--I could not--he was..." She paused for a moment, arranging her thoughts away from the memory. "You remind me of my brother, and I would not see you dead."

She turned away quickly, swallowing the lump in her throat. I mourned my brother once. She told herself. If this lad dies, I will not weep for him again.

[Taralphiel]

Lotar heard the trees rustling and swung his fist out, thinking that boy was the one there.

But her son deftly avoided the blow with an almost jester-like expression saying 'Oh, I suppose a chicken thief was expecting that eh?'

'You ought to have been a kings jester boy. Its wasted on me' he said in a low grumble. Every time he found himself in a fell mood, Kandel was there with that silly expression, attempting to cheer him up. It always reminded him of Kandel's mother. He had gotten his sense of humour, as well as his handsome features from her.

Slumping on a fallen log with a grunt he said 'He made me look a fool! Noone does that to me and doesna' hear about it!'

'Well the way you are yelling, everyone will' Kandel said in the same tone.

'You never take anything seriously, so you boy?' Lotar thundered.

'You saw me when I saw the hairpin. I didnt think it too amusing' Kandel's voice lowered, and Lotar looked him in the eye.

'It means a lot to me too father, you should know that. But beating a thief to a pulp over it will do you little good. And it will do him less good I'll wager'

Lotar snorted 'And I thought you were being serious'

'I am' said Kandel 'You cannot believe that anyone else in this camp hasnt had a fair share of life's pains! Look at Soran! He is always under a cloud. And Kirima cannot bear the words of hate towards her! And why should she!' Kandel knelt in front of his father 'They will not respect you any less for showing you hurt. Far from it. And that boy will learn from what has happened. You cannot hold that against him.'

Lotar stood up, no longer grumbling or balling his fists

'I do not want to see hair nor hide of that boy for a good while Kandel. You may look over him and make sure he learns how to get by. Then maybe I'll consider him one of us'

'Very well' said Kandel, following him out of the clearing.

'And Kandel, I hope that talk doesnt mean ye're soft! A woman's influence on a warrior' Lotar said with a smirk

'And you should talk!' chuckled Kandel, and shook his head

'Well, that took less time than expected' Kandel said to himself.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

It had been late by the time Berilac finished speaking with Andreth, and later yet when he had finished one last nighttime circuit of the Hedge. Again, he found the south gatekeeper well into his cups . . . so far into them, in fact, that he had slid down against the gate’s post and was snoring gently into the darkness.

Berilac stepped softly by him and looked more closely at the gate door. It was unlatched! Not that it would matter, he thought a few moments later as he ran his hands over the door’s hinges and locks. The hinges were in disrepair, and to be truthful, it seemed that only one of them held any purchase on the adjoining post. Bolts were missing, and only one latch on the gate engaged fully, and that was the smallest one.

‘Were the bandits to breathe on this gate, it would fall open before they got winded!’ he said to himself.

By the time he had finished, there were few hours left to the night, and he knew that Mausi and her family would already be sleeping. Berilac trudged wearily back to the Town Hall and went in quietly to catch a few hours of sleep.

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

Morning found him nudged gently away with a shake to his shoulder. ‘Just a little while longer, Fairlight,’ he murmured. He came fully awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, as a loud deep laugh assailed his ears and a less gentle nudge his shoulder.

‘I’d leave you here to dream,’ chuckled Griffo, ‘but I’m leaving now, to get back to my own sweet wife. Get up and walk me to the gate, and tell me how you and the family are faring. You know Britnie will pester me to death for details, and after that her sister will go at me hammer and tongs for not getting all I could from you.’ He eyed Berilac, who sat yawning on the floor. ‘And best you’ld start by telling me exactly when you will be making an appearance at out burrow.’

Berilac filled him in as they walked along. Griffo’s brows went up at the news of another baby due any time now. ‘Best steel yourself, man,’ Griffo told his brother-in-law, ‘you’ll be read the riot act for leaving her and your daughter at home in the first place. And second you’ll get the what-for about why you’ve left her alone at all!’ The Ranger grinned and shrugged his shoulders – he would figure some way to sweet-talk his sisters out of their scoldings.

Rosco had come down to see Griffo off, too. And Berilac asked both if they would come with him to see Andreth before the day got started. He had volunteered them for a project, he told them in a matter of fact tone.

Before they had time to marshal their protests, he detailed for them what he needed them to do – how he and Andreth had discussed the need to get food supplies into town, should they be needed for the long haul; how the Mayor had indicated the Big Folk would be needed for the repair of the earthwork dike; and how at the same time as food was being brought in, families in the outlying parts of the community could be urged to make for the safety of Bree when the time came.

He spoke long and walked quickly, bringing them both to the door of the Prancing Pony. Griffo seemed more sure of the plans workability than did Rosco, who had his doubts whether the Big Folk would cooperate with the Hobbits at all. ‘You leave that to me,’ said Griffo. ‘I’ve some Big Folk on neighboring farms that I get on with well enough. I think they can be persuaded to help out with that.’

Andreth was told she had ‘visitors’ by the serving girl who first spied them as they entered the Common Room. She left the Hobbits to stand where they were and take in the stares of the other patrons that early morning, all Big Folk. She ran to the Innkeeper, breathless in her haste - announcing when she found her that some of ‘them’ wanted to see her. ‘Them?’ asked Andreth, busy with plans for the day.

‘You know,’ said the girl, a look of distaste on her face. ‘Hobbits.’

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Meeting with Berilac, Rosco, and Griffo:

"You'd best watch your tongue, young lady," Andreth snapped back, on hearing the server's words and even more her tone of voice. She was one of the newer servants at the Inn and had been there no more than a week. "The Pony is known for treating all with respect: rich and poor, big and little. I'll not have that changing now. Especially now!"

She turned around swallowing her anger and strode down the corridor, wondering just how hard it was going to be to change people's attitudes and teach them to treat others with respect. Entering the Common Room, she saw the three hobbits seated at the center table, surrounded by a sea of Big Folk who were peering at them from all sides. Walking up to the bar, she raised a flagon and announced, "Good morning to you all. Tis chilly outside. Servers, offer all our guests a flagon of steaming cider in honor of our hobbit visitors whom I don't believe have been at the Pony before." she pointed over at Rosco, Berilac and Griffo, grinning widely.

The stiffness in the room seemed to melt a bit at Andreth's anouncement, as workmen and burghurs raised their cups and proposed a toast to the Innkeeper. Nothing was said of the three hobbits, but the hostility in the air became noticably less. The surrounding Breelanders continued to stare at the hobbits, but more out of curiosity than any open anger.

With that out of the way, Andreth sat down next to Berilac who introduced her to Griffo. The Innkeeper took an immediate liking to the hobbit and began chatting quite freely with him. If anyone could get good work out of his own crew and grudging acceptance from the Big Folk, this hobbit would surely be the one. She was not so sure about Rosco. He said relatively little and seemed to eye her and those around the Inn with suspicion. Andreth knew nothing of hobbit customs or ways, but she would have sworn that he was in a bad frame of mind, as his attention seemed to periodically drift and a scowl came to his face.

For the next few minutes, Griffo and Berilac informed her about the various type of wagons available, the farms in the surrounding countryside, and when various crops would be ready for harvest. They seemed to have an amazing knowledge of the intricacies of farming, one which surprised her. Andreth was no farmer, but their grasp of the subject was such that even she could not fail to be impressed. Whether or not they had the determination and the brute strength to do the job was still not certain, but she was willing to give them a try.

By the end of the meeting, they had agreed on a basic plan for approaching the hobbit farmers, how the carts would make their way from the fields to the Inn, and where the crops would be unloaded and stored. Andreth promised to talk with the Mayor again to see about any volunteers from the Big Folk, although she secretly thought that unlikely. Just as they were ready to leave, Berilac reminded the Innkeeper that he would be coming to take a number of the children with him after school ended. Then they shook hands and parted for the morning.

********************************************
Annunfuiniel's post

After the meeting with the Innkeeper at the Prancing Pony Rosco and Berilac saw their brother-in-law to the south gate and waved him off with greetings to be taken to their sisters. Then the brothers turned and strolled slowly back the main street, Berilac watchfully taking in all he saw along the road, Rosco deep in his own musings.

"I'm off to Mausi's now, and then to check the hedge with the kids… Will you join me?"

For a second Rosco took his eyes off the dusty road to glance at his brother. Then, lowering his gaze again he muttered into the folds of his cloak: "I'm not so sure I'd be welcome…". Knowing what Beril was about to say next, Rosco continued as if his brother had already spoken his thoughts out loud. "Yes, 'tis childish - and we need to speak things through… But now I must run some other errands; a promise I made last night needs to be fulfilled."

And so the two departed near the inn, Berilac heading up the road for Mausi's, Rosco turning east towards the Town Hall in search for the Mayor…
_____________________________________________


Child's post: Start of the first school day.

Saying her goodbyes to Rosco, Berilac, and Griffo at the front gate, Andreth hurried to the side door of the Inn. The Pony was nestled at the very foot of Bree-hill. At the base of the hill facing in a north-easterly direction, a series of steps led up to the Inn's side entrance, which was set back a distance from the road.

This is where the children would arrive; Andreth would greet them and send them back to one of the empty storerooms that had been newly scrubbed and furnished. Small tables with benches were scattered about the room along with empty storage shelves loaded down with books and supplies.

Getting enough materials on such short notice had not been easy, but Cook had somehow managed to put together a respectable assortment. She'd found a number of slates for the younger ones; a small stack of vellum sheets was set aside for those who had already mastered their basic reading and sums. But even this would not be enough. With the number of children expected, they would simply have to share the slates and take turns writing out the lesson.

Her eyes scanned down the list that matched up children and slates.....her own son Edmund was paired with Kali; Fippi with Willofain; Lily with Kari; Ella with Mondy. Andreth was at least familiar with those children, but there were a number of other families listed whom she had never met. That included three hobbit children--Marigiold Woodruff, who was 10; the siblings Pearl and Hamson Comfrey, aged 8 and 6 respectively--along with two of the Big Folk, twelve-year old twins who seemed rather cocky and went by the names of Rollo and Randy Butterbur. She'd just have to get to know these children gradually.

For the next half hour, she stood at the door, beaming a welcome at each of the students, who were then escorted back to the storeroom by the young stable lad Ban whom she'd also promised could attend the class. He was several years older than the others but was a steady lad who had never learned to read or write.

Once all the children had arrived, Andreth hurried back towards the classroom to finish introducing all of them to each other, and to explain something about the work that they would be doing this morning. She set a number of simple sums on the board for those who had at least some background. Then she sat down with the others who did not yet know any letters or numbers and began to show them, starting with "A,B,C" and "1,2,3".

Not surprisingly, a large portion of the hobbits fell into the latter group. The enroaching shadow of the Witch King and the resulting migration had disrupted all semblance of normalcy even in those families like Mausi's that might normally be expected to read and write. Andreth heard several barbed titters from the twins as they jabbed their fingers in the air, pointing towards the gathered group of Little Folk who could not yet read, even those who were older. She shot a withering glance in their direction and finally separated the boys, putting them at tables on the opposite side of the room. She heard a number of further giggles at that on the part of the hobbit children, which she silenced with a single look. As Andreth worked with the children in groups and individually, she wished she could somehow slip inside their minds and find out what they were thinking.....

[ October 29, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Chathol-linn]

The Mayor

The morning after the meeting Harald awakened early. His mind was deliciously empty for a moment. Then he recalled last night’s uproarious meeting. He wondered, Did I come off a fool? Stop – that is not important. The important thing is, did we make progress ?

Harald rose and bathed his face and hands using yesterday’s wash water. How long would the drought last? His larder held a jar of mint leaves – they at least were still plentiful – and a smidgen of honey. Stale bread, a few apples. He cooked the apples, made tea, and toasted the bread. He wished his lady friend were with him to share it. Dantha had been there last night, but the two had no chance to speak....

“We made some progress,” he assured the empty kitchen. “Recognized the threat, identified some tasks. Maybe, even, we came together a bit. But enough to save us?”

He left his house and started down to town. Telien fell in beside him at the foot of the hill, and honest man that he was, came right to the point. “I did not help you last night,” he said. “I am sorry. I reckon I wanted the whole thing to be a joke.”

“I love you like a brother, Telien, but both our jobs just became important . You cannot go about in your cups all the time. I need you to stand up. If you do not, well, Elmerith looks stout enough. Would you like answering to him as captain of the guard?”

“You would not! And what about you – can you go on thinking only of yourself, having a good time? No – again I am sorry. I shall stand up, or answer to Elmerith. You are right.”

“So are you. Now be a good fellow and go check the town hall for the Hobbits. Don’t hurry them. Make your report to me at the Pony. I’ll be there after a while. I need to think.”

The need for information was paramount, Harald realized, and the need for sturdy workers was next. His denial to Andreth was hard, he knew, for she was rightly concerned about supplies from the farms. Her inn would feel the pinch first, but the other townsfolk would be only a day or two behind, should the outlaws interrupt the harvest or - worse. But even more important was the repair of the hedge and the dike, and Harald would spare no one until the defenses were battle-worthy.

Harald felt the inner aggravation of mutually important, competing demands. How could they begin to answer the threat of the outlaws unless they knew their number and nature?

[ October 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

(Edmund at school)

If Kali, paired with Edmund on that first day of school, was looking a little nervous, there is no reason to blame him. The scowl on Edmund's face was terrifying. Being paired with a Hobbit was bad enough. Being paired with Kali was worse. The little crybaby! And this whole idea of a school was silly, anyway. The only good thing about it was that he didn't have to help Cook in the kitchen. But, of course, helping Cook in the kitchen would be better than this. That silly little crybaby wasn't in the kitchen.

And then there was his wounded squirrel. Kali might have found some temporary relief as Edmund's stern eyes softened a bit. It was on its way towards recovery. It had a beautiful greyish-red coat, and how close its leg was to being fully healed! It was an absolute miracle it was getting better at all after he had had to sit in the kitchen all day unable to take care of it. Of this Edmund was sure. And now, at the crucial time when good care would keep it healthy and bad care would make it drop back to illness, Edmund was forced to sit next to this little crybaby while his squirrel sat back at home, waiting for him to return. Poor little suffering creature...

"M-may I see the slate, Edmund?" Kali asked, his voice trembling and uncertain.

Edmund turned his head for the first time towards Kali and scowled at the hobbit child for a moment. Kali averted his eyes, remembering the time he had been so cruelly teased. "No," Edmund said at last, his voice low so his mother wouldn't hear but still very rude. "No, you can't. I'm using it. Anyway, you're too stupid to learn how to read and write, anyway." Edmund didn't care that he had used the word 'anyway' twice in his sentence. He didn't care that he had been rude. He just wished Kali would go away.

His mother was coming towards them now. Surely she couldn't have heard what had been said? Smiling kindly at Kali, she took a seat next to him. "Would you like some help with your alphabet, Kali?" The little hobbit boy nodded, and at his mother's request, Edmund was forced to hand the slate over. Her eyebrows raised when she saw the drawing of the squirrel, but she said nothing. Listening with some cruel delight to Kali's attempts at the alphabet, he hoped recess would come soon. Then he wouldn't have to be next to the crybaby.

[Orofaniel]

Fippi at school.....

Fippi, the small hobbit boy was now sitting next to Williofain, a young female girl, with long and a bit curly hair. She was one of the Big Folk. This didn't exactly scare Fippi, but he couldn't stop thinking about what his dad may think of this. Fippi knew he wasn't too pleased about those Big Folk. Fippi just knew these things, even though his father had never said such a thing in front of him.

Fippi looked up on Willofain. The busy hair was thick and it lay around her face. Her face was quite pale and her eyes were blank. Fippi turned his head down, trying not to look on her. She noticed this and stared on him. Fippi felt this plain horror streaming around in his body, he started to shiver. Don't hurt me, he thought. He didn't know why he felt this way, he just did. Fippi had never been 'afraid' of the Big Folk, and he had never had this queer feeling as he had right now.

The girl continued to look on him, and Fippi couldn't help himself so he looked up and stared her in the eyes. They were as blank as before, but at the same time they seemed so...innocent...

Suddenly the girl opened her mouth and et out the simple word "hi". Fippi gazed. Without thinking much about it he said "hi" back. The girl smiled- Fippi at least though that was a smile- and blinked with her long eyelashes. Fippi grinned, as the girl asked him a question. She was wondering how old he was. "I'm eight….." Fippi said looking down, to escape Wallofain's eyes. She looked down as well before she continued: "Ha! I'm bigger than you, I'm nine!" She said with a short laugh. "Well...I'm eight and a half!" Fippi replied as quickly as he could. Fippi gave a short laugh as well.

"Get back to your alpabeth you sillybean," Willofain said eventually, laughing yet again.

[ October 19, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[ArwenBaggins]

Kari was still quite depressed about how scarce the food was in her lunchpail. Her mind knew there was a drought, but her stomach refused to believe it.

Her spirits did lighten, however, when she found out that her slate-partner was a hobbit. Sliding onto the bench next to the young girl, she beamed, "Hullo. I'm Kari. What's your name?"

"L...Lily..." The hobbit lass just managed to stutter. Kari then realized that Lily wasn't as excited as she was about having someone 'different' as a partner.

Trying to sound more polite, she asked again, "Want me ta help ya with your alphabet?" She nudged the tablet toward Lily's lap, trying to smile as big as she could.

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

[piosenniel]

Lily at school

Lily’s tummy was clenched in a tight knot. She was sitting next to one of the Big Folk! They scared her with their loud voices and their tall bodies. Sometimes to her six year old eyes they seemed like giants come alive from Gaffer Goldworthy’s stories.

Still, Berilac the Ranger had called her brave last night. And he had stood up in front of all those Big Folk to talk. Lily clutched the small stone pendant hung on the thin blue ribbon that Poppy had tied round her neck that morning.

‘This is your lucky stone, Lily,’ she had told her as she finished tying it and twirled the wide-eyed lass about to give her dress a final straightening and brush back the curls from her forehead. ‘I found it in my garden, right next to the lilies. And there it was with a hole right through it. I knew it was for you!’ Poppy had smiled widely at the little Hobbit and as she handed her a small cloth sack with a few dried apple slices and a wedge of the morning’s bread. ‘Miz Andreth will have a mug you can use, I’m sure, as well as water from the Inn’s well,’ she had said, taking Lily’s hand and walking her to the Inn.

Lily took a deep breath a ventured a glance at the girl next to her. Her voice had been sweet, not too loud, and she was smiling. She managed to give the girl her name without stumbling over it too much.

And now the girl had asked her another question, and offered her the slate.

The Hobbit glanced up at her face, noting the mass of red-brown curls and the sparkling brown eyes. ‘If she were shorter, she would look just like a Hobbit,’ she thought. The girl, Kari, she remembered, seemed friendly. Lily dropped her hand from the stone and took the slate in both her hands. She offered a shy smile to her seat partner, her big blue eyes wide at her own bravery.

‘Yes, please,’ she said, and then, remembering to be polite as Poppy had instructed her, went on. ‘Thank you, Kari,’ she managed, her voice gaining a little strength as the words tumbled out. ‘My name is Lily Whitefoot. What’s your whole name?’

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

[ArwenBaggins]

Kari smiled as Lily took the slate. She could tell that being paired with a hobbit was all she wanted a more. "Karianne Broadsaw. I'm eleven."

She picked up two pieces of chalk from a slot under the bench, and she gave a piece to Lily. Grabbing the other piece, she wrote the letter 'A' on the slate. "This is the letter A. The small letter A looks like this." She continued by writing the lowercase 'a' on the board.

"Do you want to try?" Kari asked, seeing that Lily was holding onto her chalk tightly. "Go ahead."

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kali at school

Kali watched as Edmund grudgingly presented the slate to his mother who took her sleeve and blotted out the picture of the squirrel with very little ado, before brushing the chalk off the underside of her arm. As relieved as the hobbit was to see Mistress Andreth, and even though he felt uncomfortable with Edmund, he'd like the picture a lot and wished that he could look at it a little longer.

Until he came to Bree, Kali had always been a country boy, first as a toddler in the shadow of the Misty Mountains and later tramping down the road with all his kinfolk and friends marching toward the west. Outlying towns like Coombe and Archet where he used to live had been set back in the woodlands; there'd been plenty of squirrels and other wild things to watch and chase and draw pictures of just outside his door.

Now all that was gone. The crowded streets of Bree were not an ideal place to find interesting animals or free-flowing streams where he could pretend to sail away. He wished he could ask Edmund about his picture, but Mistress Andreth was staring down at him and, anyways, he was too afraid to open his mouth to say anything at all.

Kali tried to make the letters just as Mistress Andreth told him and, at the end of a few minutes, he had managed to set down a wobbly line of "A's" all tramping along in a row. Just to make sure Edmund knew that he liked animals too, Kali drew a picture of a field mouse nestled under a log sound asleep, his long, wispy tail wrapped around his neck. Kali's drawing was extremely good. It almost looked as if the mouse was about to wake up any minute and scamper away.

Edmund was curious enough to crane his neck forward to look at the slate. He saw a line of dreadful letters and at the end of it the most perfect depiction of a small animal that he'd ever seen. His only outward response, once his mother's back was turned, was to stick out his tongue directly in Kali's face. Still, even though Edmund vigorously rubbed the letters away and grabbed the slate back for himself, he was careful to go around the spot where the hobbit had left his picture of a mouse.

[ October 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Marigold, Pearl, Hamson, Ban, Rollo and Randy at school

Rollo and Randy Butterbur were dressed identically, except for the vests they wore. Rollo’s was yellow and Randy’s was green. At least that is how their mother had explained to Miz Andreth she would be able to tell them apart. They were identical twins, right down to the dimple that creased their left cheeks when they smiled. And they were smiling now.

Unbeknownst to Andreth, they had exchanged vests just before class started – asking, would she please excuse them, they needed to visit the privy. Now whenever she called on one or the other of them, they would smile and laugh at their little joke before answering.

Andreth had put the two at one of the larger tables, grouping little six year old Hamson Comfrey with them as well as Ban, the older lad from the stable. Hamson had worked up the courage to ask why they laughed and Rollo leaned down conspiratorially, whispering in the Hobbit’s ear. Hamson’s eyes went wide at the ‘joke’, which he thought quite funny. And soon he was joining in with a small giggle whenever Andreth called on one or the other of the twins.

Hamson’s older sister, Pearl, glared at him, from the table where she sat with Marigold Woodruff, one of the Hobbits who had a fair knowledge of letters and numbers. Marigold’s Da was a tinkerer and her Ma kept simple accounts of what item was whose and what had been promised in payment.

Marigold rolled her eyes at Pearl, when Hamson, as soon as Miz Andreth had turned her back, stuck out his tongue at his sister then turned away ignoring her. ‘Brothers!’ whispered Marigold to Pearl. She had older brothers, herself, and knew what a pain they could be!

‘I’m telling Mami!’ mouthed Pearl to her little brother as he glanced her way briefly. He stuck out his tongue once again, and scooted closer to his new friends.

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruantalon]

Upset and surprised Rudgar dodged the swings by Lotar. “I wonder if they have any food here.” He wondered to himself.

Lotar eyed him angrily and said he should be shown how to take care of himself. Rudgars face turned dark with those words. “You’re the one who needs to learn how to take care of yourself. You’re not even a real thief. You have too much going on, in that head of yours, to think straight.” He thought to himself.

“’I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble. I guess I should hold off on the pranks for awhile. It seems there is a lot of work to be done.” He said to Krima

“That man needs to take some of the things off his mind. Then he’ll be able to think clearly about what he does. How did he know I wouldn’t have slit his throat? Well, I guess everyone has there reasons.” He said looking at Soren.

“He is lucky he didn’t get a thump on the head from me. Let’s see how well he survives out here with that temper.”


Rudgar seemed lost in thought. He was putting this away in his memory.
Maybe, that will be useful to me later on. I know just how he’ll take something when it comes to that hair pin, or his family. I should keep that in mind. Remember what a foolish man he can be. It might help my purposed later on. Still it shouldn’t be personal. That would be allowing me to make a mistake. No, I’ll keep that hot temper of his in mind and use it to my advantage.

“Can either of you tell me where I can get something to eat? I was looking for a farm to steal from when I found you too. Maybe you can show me where I can get something? I can’t think on an empty stomach. I need something to get my mind moving again.”

[ October 21, 2003: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[Chathol-linn]

Willofain

“So this is ‘school’” said Willofain as she passed through the side door of the Prancing Pony. She saw a room with small tables scattered about, and children seated at the tables. Some of the children were looking at slates, she saw. Then she noted that some of them were Small Folk.

Willofain’s eyes grew wide. She knew about Hobbits, of course, because she had been raised in the country where most of them lived. But she had never seen Big Folk and Small Folk together before. Here there were a Big Person and a Little Person at nearly every table!

“Sit with Fippi,” Miz Andreth directed, so Willofain took her seat next to a little Hobbit boy. He looked down and did not say anything. Willofain could not think of what to say either, so she looked around.

Why, they look different, she thought. Almost everyone there had brown hair and neat, well-made clothes. Willofain knew her own hair was light-colored, and she could see wisps of hay in it from last night’s sleep in the stable loft. She smelled like hay. And her homespun woolen tunic and breeches were as different as could be from the frocks of most of the girls. Is it because they are town folk? she wondered, and decided to ask her neighbor.

“Hi,” she said to her silent seatmate. “My name is Willofain. Who are you? Fippi? Are you a Hobbit?”

“Yes,” he said shyly.

“I’m a Big Person. Bigger than you. But I’m nine, and older people are bigger, aren’t they? I used to live on the farm but they brought me to town and I got – lost, I reckon. What are we doing here?”

He told her they were going to learn to read and write.

“Do you mean, like reading books and maps, and writing songs and stories?” Willofain exclaimed. People looked in her direction and she lowered her voice. “Oh, I want to do that! More than anything in the world. What do you like to do best, Fippi?”

“Climb trees,” he answered and this time he gave a little laugh.

“Well, I like to tell stories. Someday I will write them down. Maybe I will write your story, Fippi. About this lucky Hobbit boy who has a Mum and Dad and goes to school and climbs trees. Would you like that?”

Now Fippi’s eyes widened. Anyone could tell this Big Girl thought he was lucky!

As Miz Andreth began to speak to the class, Willofain daydreamed a little. She usually thought about finding a new home, but now she thought about learning to read, and making friends. Maybe they could climb trees together, and tell stories.

This is a good place, she decided, smiling. I wonder what will happen next?

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


Nova's post for Fippi:

Fippi was getting very eager. He tried as well as he could, doing the exercises, writing down numbers and letters. The girl next to him, Willofain was just as eager, asking him whether they were going to learn how to read books and maps. Her voice ran trough the 'classroom' at the Inn, and many of the children lifted their small heads, stirring at the girl, who had just asked Fippi a question.

"What do you like to do best, Fippi?”

Fippi didn't answer at once. Could e really trust these people? The trees were his world, an now this Big Foot... erm.. Big Folk girl asked him personal questions. Yes, this was indeed personal, was it not? The little hobbit boy hesitated for a moment, remembering every single bad word his father, Hedgar, had said about these people. At last he answered shyly: "Climbing trees."

“Well, I like to tell stories. Someday I will write them down. Maybe I will write your story, Fippi. About this lucky Hobbit boy who has a Mum and Dad and goes to school and climbs trees. Would you like that?” the girl replied eagerly, having her eyes all over the hobbit boy. Fippi realised that people were looking again, he grew red, but didn't say anything.

*******

For a while, the two of them didn't say much to each other. They kept on writing letter and numbers. Fippi concentrated having his tougue out of his mouth. It was really hard to write the number '9' and '3'. They are 'curly' he thought, muttering his concern to his side mate. The girl agreed, but still they continued.

Their backs were turned to the window, and none of the two students noticed three boys with very 'deadly' weapons.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

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

[piosenniel]

Will Farroweed

Big Tom Farroweed had been quite clear in his opinion of Andreth Woolthistle and her so-called school. ‘None o’ my kids’ll be seen going’ to no place run by some Hobbit-lovin’ woman!’ Letty had tried to pacify him, saying it would be good for Will to learn his letters and such, but Big Tom was having none of it.

‘No, sense in that, Letty,’ he fumed as he pulled on his boots to see to the pigs early in the morning after the town meeting. ‘What he needs ta know, I can teach him. I don’t need no letters and writin’ and such. And neither does the boy!’

Letty sighed, knowing she should give up on the subject, but offered one more try, saying she’d always known Andreth to be the kind of woman who would do right by a person. Big Tom swore as he mashed his left foot with its crumpled sock down into his boot. ‘Needs a husband,’ he growled. ‘She’d do best to do right for herself and get a man. Someone to keep ‘her on the straight ‘n’ narrow!’

Knowing this was a lost cause, Letty rubbed her forehead and shuffled off to wake Will. It was his chore in the morning to slop the yearlings.

~*~

Will pulled the covers over his head at his mother’s approach. He was wide awake and grinning wickedly. He had heard what his father had said and was glad of it. That last thing he wanted was to spend time cooped up in some room under somebody’s thumb when he and his mates could be out having themselves some fun.

~*~

A short time later – himself fed as well as the pigs – and he was out the door, heading toward town. It was a fair day, and on his way he stopped for his mates Bert, eleven, and Roddy, thirteen. Bert’s family ran a wheat farm east of Will’s family place, and just south of that was Roddy’s place, whose father was a tanner. Neither of their families had given much thought to Hobbits one way or the other. But the two boys idolized Will, as he was a few years older than them and could always be relied on to think of something ‘fun’ to do.

Today was no exception.

‘Got your pea-shooter?’ he asked Bart, as the boy came through the gate and out onto the path into town. Roddy was already with Will, and he had brought his little sling-shot and plenty of small rocks.

~*~

They crept round to the north end of the Inn, near the back. That’s where Will had figured the class would be held. Through the open, rounded window they could see the tables sprinkled with big and Little Folk, some bent over their slates, some gathered round the Innkeeper, listening to a story.

‘Sittin’ ducks!’ snickered Roddy in a whisper. He had crept to the other window and eased up for a quick look round the room. Bart was not quite sure they should be doing this, but he shrugged his doubts away when Will handed him a handful of his own dried peas to use.

‘We’ll hit 'em once, then run for cover behind those bushes between the two oak trees . . . there, on that side of the fenced horse pen . . .

~*~

Their little weapons loaded, the three boys, at a signal from Will, stood and fired at a target they had picked out.

Fippi, his back turned to the window was hit in the back of the neck with a pea from Bart’s little shooter. Kali, standing up by Andreth, caught a pebble to the side of his leg from Roddy’s slingshot. It was little Lily who fared the worst. Will aimed his pea shooter at her ear as she bent near Kari to admire how the girl had written ‘Lily’ on the slate.

There were wails, and shouts of anger from those hit. Kari turned her head just in time to see Will’s grinning face – gloating at his shot. Little Lily was crying, and Kari, a good throwing arm on her, drew back her arm and slung the slate at the window . . .

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Fippi

It all had went so quickly, Fippi didn't know what had happened before the actual pea had pierced the back of his neck. His eyes had turned blank as he was about to cry. But he had managed to hold back the tears. He felt the pain in his neck and the green pea that had hit him lay now on the floor. He sized it.

Pea...., he thought. I don't even like peas. They are horrble for dinner..., he sniffed. He hadn't realized that other children had been hit by peas as well. He turned around and saw that Lily had been hit by a pea in the ear. The ear was usually normal colored, but the colour was now turning quickly into red. Thereafter it svulmed up. Fippi tried to turn his head to see if he saw any marks on the back of his neck, where the pea had hit him. He could only see a red spot, and nothing more.

_____________________________________________


Arwen's post for Kari:

"William Farroweed!" Kari's face turned a crimson color when she saw the boy snickering in the window. Oh, he'll pay...she thought to herself, looking around at others who had been hit.

Arming herself with her slate, she stood and raised it above her head. "It's alright Lily, I'll get 'im." She smiled at the crying girl, rage flaring even more inside of her eleven-year-old mind.

Closing one eye and sticking her tongue out slightly, she aimed the slate toward the now hysterical Will. Kari pushed her arm forward and flung the slate out the window. It smacked square between the boy's eyes. He let out a howl, and Kari laughed with content.

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth: Response to Will and Beginning of Recess

Taken off guard by the abruptness of the attack and the children's panicked cries, Andreth watched her class erupt in a turmoil of noise and confusion. Who would ever have suspected that mild little Kari had so much gumption? Her makeshift weapon sped on in a sure, straight line until it clipped Will between the eyes and bounced off again, hitting the fence post with a thud and breaking into a dozen pieces.

Andreth smiled wryly, then bit her lip to restore a guileless expression on her face. Before attending to other matters, she managed to race out the side door and get one brief look at the culprits who sprinted over to hide in the bushes. Then she hurried in to check on the children to make sure they hadn't been hurt. At her request, Ban made his way over to the kitchens and had Cook prime the pump for some cold spring water; Ban soaked a towel in the bowl, and then gently applied the cold rag to Lily, the same way he did for injured horses. The ear was now turning a vivid shade of red.

Andreth finally managed to calm the class down, and reassured Kari that she wouldn't be punished for the broken slate, but made her promise that she'd hold her temper next time and instead wait for the teacher to act. Andreth wasn't sure if Kari really meant what she was saying. But the girl looked so eager to please that the Innkeeper found it hard to insist on any punishment.

Privately, Andreth was not displeased to see Will put in such an embarassing position in front of his other mates. He had created the situation. Let him stew in it!

Andreth had one of the burly fellows who was repairing the roof of the Inn accompany the children outside for recess. She thought they'd be safe enough as long as Rob kept a close eye on things and shoed away anyone who looked as if they were there merely to cause trouble. Just to be sure of the children's safety, she told Rob to have them play only inside the horse pen, and not let anyone in or out, until she herself came to retrieve them.

Once the children had filed out of the room, Andreth sat down at a table, took out a clean sheet of vellum, and began to pen a note to Will's father. She'd had all the nonsense she could take and wanted to make sure that there would be no repeat of the incident that had just happened.

Her pen flew back and forth across the sheet. Several times she searched for a different word or found herself stopping to hold back her anger. There was no need to rain curses down on Tom's head. She had plenty of leverage to control the situation. With that, she folded over the note, and went out to the Common Room instructing one of the servers to deliver it as soon as the lunch guests had left.

[ October 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Harald walked along the streets of Bree, putting his thoughts in order concerning the outlaws and Bree-land's defense. He was alone now - Telien had turned off on the street that led to the Town Hall, intent on seeing to the Hobbits who had stayed the night there.

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

Chathol-linn’s post – Mayor Harald

How could they begin to answer the threat of the outlaws unless they knew their number and nature?

“Minastan could find out,” Harald mused. “He’s a Ranger, and stealthy. He talks bold, he acts bold. I wager he is bold enough to pay a visit to these outlaws – on the sly. I guess I must speak to the big oaf. Oh well. If I let him poke his barbs at me maybe he will say yes. I’ll tell him it is important, and that’s no lie.”

Luck was on Harald’s side in this matter. He had searched only a few streets when he saw the Ranger walking toward the stables. Most shops and services that aided travelers lay near the Road: the inn, the stables, weapons shops and such. Minastan must be getting ready to head out of town.

“Minastan Helmman!” he called. The Ranger turned around. He offered no greeting save an impatient look, but for Minastan this was ordinary. Harald walked toward him thinking, I will accept the benefit of his self-proclaimed seven years’ age over mine. I will not get angry.

“Minastan, all your points last night were well-taken,” he began. “Thanks for your strong words. In the light of day, there are many questions unanswered. Those outlaws - how well are they armed? How many horses? What do they want?”

Minastan did not answer; he just shaded his eyes from the morning sun and listened. Harald continued, “It is even possible that old Lilac was right and they only want – “

That was enough for Minastan. Harald listened to several minutes worth of opinions on old Missus Lilac and anybody fool enough to heed her. In the middle of this Harald interrupted.

“Right, I could not agree more. But now what? My thought was, with all your Ranger experience you must know someone who could, would, undertake a spy mission on those outlaws. We need information, Minastan. Can you suggest anyone? This is very important!”

[Tinuviel of Denton]

"I need something to get my mind moving again."

Soran held in a snort. Again? I don't think it ever was moving, he couldn't help thinking. But that was rather unfair. Rudgar was only a boy; he hadn't been with the bandits for more than a few minutes, he was a real thief (or at least, more of a real thief than Soran), and it was unlikely that he had lost family. They would just have to be patient with the boy. If he didn't do anything else stupid, he might live to be useful.

"There's 'stew' in that pot," he gestured to the pot of bubbling...liquid with a few morsels of meat and what passed for vegetables floating miserably in it. "It's not much and you have to use your imagination to convince yourself that it's food. But it's better than nothing."

While Rudgar filled one of the crude bowls with the watery substance, Soran watched him speculatively. Thin and wiry, the young man looked like someone that the old man would have chased off his property with a pitchfork in the old days. But that was then. Today, Rudgar was a companion. A companion who reminded Soran sharply of his eldest son, Rik.

He opened his mouth to say something to the boy, but thought better of it. No use bringing back bad memories. Or in making new ones.

[Nurumaiel]

Edmund's eyes were not on the other children. If he had been watching them he might have been able to catch some glimpse of what they were thinking. But his eyes were fixed on Will, and his thoughts were on him, as well. He suddenly had a deep admiration for the older boy, though why is a mystery that might never be solved. Edmund's mind was not like other childrens. He felt admiration where other children would feel anger and fear. He wondered if he dared approach the older boy and talk to him... no, such a boy would never want to be friends with Edmund.

Edmund's thoughts drifted to Kali and the field mouse. He had to admit he had been surprised when he had seen the excellent drawing of the mouse. He hadn't thought Hobbits capable of loving animals. Of course you didn't have to be intelligent to love something. Who didn't love animals, anyway? But the way Kali drew the mouse... it was so superb. Too bad Kali is a Hobbit, Edmund thought. Otherwise he mightn't be that bad. He glanced over at the one he was thinking about. The Hobbit child was still rubbing his leg. Of course it still hurt him. He was a crybaby.

Now that Will... he's not a bad shot, Edmund thought. Will was still hanging about nearby, and Edmund felt a thrill of pleasure and fear go through him when he saw the older boy kept glancing his way. And then... Was he dreaming? No, Will really was gesturing to him. Edmund took a quick look around to make sure his mother wasn't watching him, and then he stealthily trotted over in Will's direction. It never crossed his mind that Will might have bad intentions. No, he was sure Will was actually wanting to talk to him. He was not to be disappointed.

[ October 25, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[Beren87]

Anyone...eh? Minastan thought to himself.

"Well then, you want someone to go into the den of the beast, itself?" he mused to the Mayor, obviously agitated with his toying around.

"Yes, that's right. We're in a severe need of knowing as to what these people can do to us. Do you know anyone...brave enough, for the endeavor?" The baiting in the Mayor's voice was evident even to Minastan, but he was not one to follow up on such tricks. Unless, of course, it seemed like something actually needing doing.

"Hm, well, you want someone stealthy, someone with experience, and perhaps someone with a certain charm enough to get himself out of trouble if caught." He threw in the line with a smirk, working his way to who he had in mind. "Well, then, sure. I'll do it."

The mayor looked with hint of disgust at the vanity in the proclamation, his distaste for the ranger evident in his eyes. But personal opinion always came after his civic duty. "The city needs your help, and I'm personally glad you've volunteered for such a life-threatening mission."

A smirk crept across Minastan's face, his opinion of the danger obvious to the man. He was a ranger, after all, and it wasn't just personal pride that convinced him there was no one better for the job than he. He knew there was no one better. A plan was already forming in his mind.

"So here's what I'll do," he cleared his throat, "sometime early tomorrow morning, I'll sneak out past the far settlements, but not along the road. I know they'll be watching it, after all, bandits always seem to. I'll go through the woods, with my training it shouldn't be hard to find some evidence of the tromping, ill-trained, ruffians. I'll spy a bit on 'em, see what they've got to throw against us. From the shows on the road against travelers, it seems already as if they've set their eyes against you. It shan't take me long to find out." His lips closed softly into a grim near-frown, waiting for the Mayor to give some sort of congratulations for his bravery.

"Well then, just don't get yourself killed in the process. If there's to be actual fighting, we'll need you back here. Until then, keep yourself safe." With a nod he turned his back on the ranger, walking down the same street.

Minastan stood slightly dumbfounded in the middle of the road, his senses slowly coming back to the present. With realization of the Mayor's distate with him finally in his mind he, for the first time in years, heartily laughed to himself as he walked away.

[ October 23, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar wandered back into the clearing, saw the boy, and threw back the linen flap of his tent with a growl. Kandel did not follow him, but sat at the camp by the stew.

'Hand us a bowl boy' he nodded to Rudgar, and he did as he was told. But Kandel could tell there was something in his eye, a sort of surety. 'Hmm...he thinks he can play us. Well, so many do' Kandel shrugged it off and thanked him.

Serving himself the stew, he sat by Soran and ate it slowly

'So Soran, what are ye thinkin' about this town defending itself? I myself thought it a fools errand before, but you should have seen the meeting. The Rangers fueled them with a great anger. They think it possible to drive us out like we've been before. I'd ask Lotar his plans, but he's in a mood to be by himself...'

~*~

Lotar was in a mood to be by himself. He sat on his bedroll with his chin in his hands. 'What is becoming of me' he said aloud, and let the words swirl about in his head. He remembered his farm, his rolling fields and crops that stretched out so far. He remembered his daughter frolicking among daisies, with Kandel at her heels. 'He was so young then, such a child' he said. Then he remembered his wife, with her hair of sunlight. He gave a loud sigh, and stared at her hairpin.

'Hmph, I used to tell her to leave the past right there, in the past. I never knew I'd go back on my words. Now all I have is my son, and a dream to find a place where I can grow old and die like she would have wanted, what she deserved'

He lay back and tried to get some sleep. As well as mulling around in his own past, Lotar was formulating a way to make that little town fall like it was made of twigs.

[Arestevana]

Kirima filled herself a small cup of 'stew'. She sat drinking it with her back to the fire, watching the forest around them. She felt tired, and wished she had thought to catch some sleep after returning from the town. Drinking her soup, she used water from the pail to wash it out.

Picking up the empty pail, Kirima went to refill it from the stream. As she left she heard Kandel and Soran speaking.
'So Soran, what are ye thinkin' about this town defending itself? I myself thought it a fools errand before, but you should have seen the meeting. The Rangers fueled them with a great anger. They think it possible to drive us out like we've been before.'

She continued walking, rolling the words through her mind. She understood that the townsfolk were not evil people, but to be driven out again? Reaching the stream she clambered far down the bank until she came to the shallow rivulet at the bottom. She filled the pail and began to trudge back to camp.

To be driven out again was to return to defeat, she reminded herself. There might be children in this town, but there were children camped at Weather Hill as well. If they were driven out again, those children would starve. She thought of the small stream, it's dry banks a clear statement of the land's troubles. Kirima thought of the angry words she had heard at the meeting of the townfolk. She paused and set the bucket down, drawing the foraging knife in her wrist sheath. She tried to imagine striking someone with it, actually ending a life. The image of her daughter lying pale and unmoving in her cradle rose in her mind and she quickly put the knife away. Then she remembered the gaunt, sad faces of the children at Weather Hill and resolved to fight however she could to win the town.

She picked up the pail and returned to camp, setting her load by the fire. She pulled her cloak around her, shivering even in the warm sunlight. Exhaustion and sadness overcame her and she slept, dreaming of her family.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran didn't reply to Kandel's attempt at conversation. He didn't feel like talking; he was thinking about his children, not Bree. Leila would have been seven today, he had suddenly realized when the young thief had reminded him of Rik. She had always been his little g.irl. He had called her Butterfly, because she flitted about like one of the bright creatures and she brought a smile to his face. She hadn't much resembled a butterfly when the soldiers came to the farm though...

"DADDY!!!"

He could hear her screaming for him, long past the time she was out of sight. The big man who'd thrown her over his shoulder had had a cruel glint in his eye. And he had been helpless to make the monsters leave his baby alone...

He shook his head. Some things were better left buried, so with an effort, he roused himself and turned toward Kandel.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking of something else," he explained. "I don't know what to think about the Breelanders defending themselves. I wonder if there are enough of us to take them on. It is a whole town, and there's only the five of us, after all."

[ArwenBaggins]

Arwen Baggin's post - Kari

"You sure you're Ok?" Kari asked Lily as they tried to ride the wave of children rushing from the inn.

"My ear hurts..." Lily wimpered, tears welling up in her big eyes.

Kari leaned in and looked at it once they were safetly alone, huddling under a tree. The ear was red and swollen; she could tell Lily was in pain. "Well, Miss Andreth saw that nasty Will do it, an' she'll get 'im good."

Kari sat down next to the tree, and grabbed Lily's hand to welcome her to sit too. She started to talk, trying to keep the Hobbit's mind off of her throbbing ear. "You should meet my Father. He's really nice, but kinda misunderstood. He likes Hobbit's too, but he tries to hide it 'cause his friends don't like 'em."

_____________________________________________


Esgallhugwen's post - Lily

Lily smiled when Kari mentioned that 'nasty Will' will get his just rewards, attacking the poor little Hobbits and all. It would be nice to meet Kari's Dad, but that would mean he's far more bigger than Kari is!

Little Lily had become brave gripping her lucky stone that Poppy gave her that morning, she nodded shaking her blonde curls about her face. "Karwi", she said softly "would you like to pway a game wit me?" Her big blue eyes widened with joy as Kari agreed.

"I would like to be the dwagon and you can be the maiden and I get to chase you!" Lily giggled mischievously as she gave a little jump; Kari laughed, "alright, but no biting". Lily giggled and growled as she began to chase Kari around the tree.

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Eruantalon]

Looking down at the meager food prepared Rudgar started to get upset. “Now if the battle doesn’t kill me malnourishment will!!”

He looked at the companions that where around him now. “Listen I don’t think we will get far with empty bellies. Eating this doesn’t pass for food so I won’t count it as food. I’ll be back in half and hour if things go well. If they don’t it will be an hour.”

The group looked annoyed with him as he got up to go. Rudgar came back after close to an hour. He now had a large with sack that kept buck bagucking and moving. He saw them around the camp and came to Soren first. “I’ll need a good knife, a table or something like it, a pot, and a good fire.”

The strong fire was already there. Soren helped him get the things he need quickly. He proceeded to chop and cut vary quickly. He put small pieces of everything into the pot chicken, vegetables, bad some seasoning from his back pack.

The small pieces he chopped up cooked quickly in the pot. In half an hour of cooking he had everything ready. He set out a cloth on the ground and set bowls of food on it. Then he took out his half bottle of wine and asked if there where any cups.

He didn’t sit down to eat just yet. He went to Lotars tent and popped his head in. “Lotar if you want dinner you’ll have to come now when it’s hot. I‘ve been cooking up some chicken stew.” With that he scurried back to preparing.

The rest of the company sat down and started eating. It was a hardy chicken stew with potatoes, carrots, onions, some other vegetables he hadn’t seen yet, and lots of thick rich fragrant gravy. “Now this is proper food for bandits. It keeps you going right through the day. Sit down everyone and get a bowl. I‘ve got eggs for breakfast and more vegetables.”

[Annunfuiniel]

Mausi's children

"Does your leg hurt much, Kali?" Ella asked her little brother, her tone reflecting the worry of an older sister who saw herself as responsible for her younger siblings. The recess had begun and the children streamed out of the classroom to the open air. Ella and Mondy surrounded Kali, eager to speak with him after the obligatory separation during the lesson.

"No." came Kali's solemn answer but his teary eyes revealed the truth he tried to hide in an attempt to appear a 'big boy'.

"Oh yes it does!" Mondy all-knowingly stated the obvious and pointed with his chalky index finger at Kali's leg. "See, you'll have a nice bruise right there." The three all took a closer look at the spot to verify that the pea had indeed left its mark on the boy. Kali forgot all about his pains and his eyes shone again in excitement: showing off ones scratches and bruises, the deeper and bigger the better, was the best thing - definitely a big boy thing - he knew.

But Ella had another opinion in this matter. Her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips (this was an often seen expression on her face when she sensed trouble coming) before speaking in a hushed voice.

"But what will mima say when she sees that? She wants to know all - and she will be angry when she hears it was the Biggie boys..." Her whisper faded away and she took a quick look around before continuing; "What do you think about them Biggies?"

Kali stared at his toes while muttering an answer. "Edmund is mean... But he likes animals as I do. Squirrels..." The young hobbit couldn't quite put his thought into words but somehow he understood that one who liked animals couldn't be all that bad.

"The twins are funny!" Mondy began; "And that girl that threw her slate at Will!" The older brother mimicked the scene very lively after which the trio giggled in unison. Even Ella felt somewhat better, hoping that maybe her mother would understand that these things happened; for despite the troublesome start she had begun to like this school thing. Suddenly finding new courage from these thoughts she decided to do something she had never done before. And so, leaving her brothers and walking warily across the horse pen, Ella came to where little Lily was sitting on a hay bale with Kari, the Big Folk girl. The two were engaged in a conversation and didn't first notice the newcomer. Ella coughed, then piped in a voice that echoed strange in her own ears;

"Hullo, my name is Ella. May I sit here too?"

[ October 25, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Bandits: Letter from Laira to Soran

A messenger picked his way stealthily along the path that led towards the bandits' lair. The path was barely visible, with thick bracken and ferns covering much of the ground, and overhanging bushes crowding in; only an experienced eye could pick it out. The man had travelled for several hours and now halted on the outskirts of a hidden grove, giving the signal that they had agreed upon many weeks before: the sound of a fox baying, three separate tones interrupted by a pause of less than a minute. Several of the scouts glanced up surprised from their dinner with a look of hope written on their faces. The messenger leapt off his horse and walked over to the circle, stopping to take a whiff of the stew, but then continuing on. "A dispatch for Lotar from Weathertop. Where is he?"

"Still in his tent, I expect," one of the men responded, jerking his thumb towards the edge of camp, and then went on to voice the unspoken question in everyone's mind. "Anyone else lucky? Do you bring news to any of us?"

"Aye," he replied, digging deep in his vest pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper. "For you, Soran. From your sister" He held out the letter and pushed it in his direction, then retreated down the path to Lothar's tent. Soran's voice called after him, "Make sure to have some dinner with us before you leave..."

The farmer sat down and unfolded the tiny slip of vellum, his eyes skimming hastily over the note, devouring its contents:

My dearest brother,

I can not tell you how you are missed. With their father gone, Glenna cries to see her uncle Soran. Although Marach tries to put on a good face to show he is a man, I see the look in his eye and knows that he yearns for someone other than myself he can trust.

Food and trust.... Both are scarce. The children have become good at finding root vegetables in the hills. Otherwise, we would have starved. If only Marach was a bit older, he could go hunting with the older boys. Sometimes he tries but they shoo him back. Many of the very old and young are in desperate straits from hunger. I worry constantly about mama. And every night I dream of food: loaves of bread, chicken stew, the things we took for granted!

There is one thing that has kept us alive. Strangely enough, it is my ability to read and write. There are times when dispatches must be read and written, and I am one of the few left alive who can do that. So many of the leaders of the village were killed in the initial attack or on the path to Weathertop. I barter my skills for food and other necessities as best I can.

I hope this finds you well. I pray that you and the others have found things better near this place called Breeland. Perhaps, they will let us come and settle there and farm the land? Still, it is hard. There are so many of us. The fighting between villagers is constant; many go out and elude the armed patrols from Arthedain and accost travellers on the road, robbing them of their goods. I have not yet stooped to that, but if it comes to my children's lives, I will not hesitate.... I pray we may find another answer.

Your sister,

Laira

[piosenniel]

Will Farroweed

‘Who is that, keeps looking over our way?’

Bart nudged Will as they stood in the shadow of a tree near where the other children were at recess on the grassy interior of the fenced pen. ‘Looks like a bunch of stupid donkeys, all running around in there,’ snickered Roddy. ‘That’s the Innkeeper’s kid,’ hissed Will, motioning for them to keep their voices down.

Will’s eye was on Edmund. He was that Hobbit-loving woman's kid, and under her thumb from what he understood . . . or maybe not. The boy looked interested, he could tell, in Will and his gang. And his quick glance in the window of the schoolroom earlier had given him the impression that Edmund was none too thrilled to be sitting next to one of the Little Folk. With a quick jerk of his head, Will motioned for the boy to sneak over to see him.

The three older boys slid behind the trunk of the great tree and waited. They heard the quick steps approaching and held their breath, hoping it was not that man Andreth had set to watch the boys. They were not disappointed, as Edmund, grinning at his own daring, slipped into place behind the tree with them.

Will peeked round the tree. Rob, the laborer Andreth had set to watch the students, was sitting there in the shade, his legs crossed in front of him, his eyes closed. He was enjoying the break from repairing the Inn roof. Will turned back to give Edmund the once over, and then grinned back at him.

‘You’re Edmund, right? You up for a little fun after school?’ Will looked appraisingly at Edmund. Roddy spit on the ground by Edmund’s foot. ‘That is, if you’re mommy’ll let you!’ he challenged. Will gave Roddy a shove on the arm.

‘Hey! Back off him,’ he said, clapping his arm round Edmund’s shoulders. ‘Looks to me like the kind of guy that makes his own decisions.’ He looked down at Edmund. ‘Don’t you, buddy?’

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Nurumaiel]

There was no hesitation on Edmund's part. He was thrilled. It had happened so fast without any effort... Will was wanting to be friends with him. The sooner he could get away from the wretched school, the better. Grinning widely, he replied, "Of course I will!" Having spoken those words, he cast a defiant look at Roddy.

"Instead of waiting till after your school" -those words were spoken with obvious disdain- "why don't you come with us now?" Roddy suggested.

Edmund hesitated and glanced over his shoulder, seeking out his mother. Roddy tapped his foot impatiently, but Will showed no visible signs of annoyance. "No," he decided at last. "I want to get out of my home as quickly as I can, but I have to figure out a way to bring my squirrel comfortably." He told them briefly about his pet. "I'll meet you somewhere after school. Just tell me where, and I'll be there as soon as I can get my squirrel."

[piosenniel]

Will and gang

‘He has a squirrel!’ laughed Roddy, the sound of his derisive chuckling cut short with a glare from Will.

Edmund was well out of earshot, but Will was taking no chances. ‘Shut your trap,’ he growled. ‘The kid has possibilities. His mom’s the Innkeeper, you birdbrain. He can get us all sorts of stuff.’ Will’s eyes lit up with the prospect of what Edmund could make available to them. ‘And besides that, it’ll annoy that namby-pamby mother of his no end.’

Will had told Edmund to meet them in the little sidestreet just south of the Inn after class. ‘Bring a pea shooter if you have one,’ he’d told the wide-eyed seven year old. Edmund’s brow furrowed at this directive. ‘Don’t worry, mate, if you can’t find one, I have one extra. We’ll wait for you to show up.’ He noted the man who was ‘watching’ the students was starting to stir from his nap. ‘Best get back, and be quick about it, before he rats on you to your mom.’

The three boys ambled to their meeting place and made themselves comfortable at the base of an elm tree, their backs leaning against the trunk. Bart drew with a stick in the dirt by his leg, while the other two bragged to each other about their recent, and much inflated, exploits.

‘I hope he does bring his squirrel,’ murmured Bart, idly to himself. ‘I think that’s great he has one.’

‘Well, you would, you dumb baby,’ said Roddy, throwing a clump of dirt at the younger boy.

Bart’s eyes blazed and he launched himself at Roddy, who continued to taunt him. Will stepped in and grabbed Bart by the shirt, shoving him behind him and hard onto the ground on his bottom.

‘Stop it, the both of you,’ he yelled at Roddy as he pushed him down, too. ‘Geez, you’re gonna ruin our fun if you keep acting like a couple of mad dogs!’ Just sit still and keep your mouths shut and your fists to yourselves for a while!’

Will sat down between the two and picking up a small, short piece of downed tree limb, pulled out his knife, and set to whittling on it. Bart sat silent as a stone, his fists clenching as he heard Roddy mumble.

‘Yeah, well if it don’t work out with this Edmund, his squirrel’s fair game as far as I’m concerned . . .’

[ October 26, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran set down his bowl. Suddenly it seemed very selfish to be eating such wonderful food--Would never have guessed Rudgar to know how to cook...--when his sister and her children were starving. The stew mocked him with their plight, and his heart reproached him for leaving them to fend for themselves. But he couldn't go back to them. Laira wouldn't even recognize him, he had changed so much.

He wanted to do something for them, for his sister-children and their mother, but his place was here now. As much as he hated harming others, here was acceptance of a sort. Here were other people who shared his problems and his sorrow.

Rudgar looked at him strangely when he didn't pick his plate back up. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No," answered Soran tiredly. He looked at the letter one more time, folded it carefully, and tucked it into his tunic, sighing.

Rudgar looked at Soran, then at the bowl, then he shrugged, picked up the still-full dish and started eating.

[Eruantalon]

Rudgar eat Sorens food happily. “Soren I know this might make another fight. I have to tell you for what ever reason you don’t eat don’t let it be because of them. My mother and father starved before they died. Not eating won’t help them now. Not eating won’t help anyone, especially you. I’m no ones master, but if you really want to help people you have to be strong. You need food and to keep going. I risked my life an hour ago for this food. If you want to be smart, don‘t let emotions get in the way.”

Soren looked at him with an surprised face. Rudgar said all this as if he was talking about some one else. He greedily eat up everything that was in her bowl. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he tell him to eat and then gobble up all his food. Rudgar filled the bowl up a second time and passed it to him. The rest of the companions where looking at Rudgar now.

“I’ve had my fair share Soren, take yours now.” The entire time he spoke it was in a strange manner. He only paused to slurp or eat. He spoke in a steady stream of words. He seemed completely interested in his food the whole time he spoke to Soren.

Rudgar put the bowl down beside him and left everyone. He found a nice tree and fell asleep under it thinking of gold and happiness. He dreamed of things to come. A beautiful house and lots of servants. Never needing to steal again for the rest of his life. New times filled with his favorite pass times. Sleeping and eating his days away in a comfortable bed.

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘I’ll stay tonight with you and your family, if you don’t mind, Mausi.’ Berilac finished up his late breakfast and took his dish and utensils to the sink for a wash up. ‘Rosco has room for me, but he lives too far out, and I need to be in the city proper if I’m to get the task done I’ve set for myself.’

He came out to the front room where she sat in her rocker, sewing on some piece of clothing. The morning light glinted off the silvered thimble on her middle finger, as she pushed the needle through the cloth. Not looking up from her work, she asked what he would be doing that day, and when could she expect him back.

‘I’m off to the Prancing Pony a little later, to pick up the children.’ She glanced up at him, a questioning look on her face. ‘We’re going to inspect the Hedge today. Ella, Mondy, and Kali for sure. Little Fippi, I think, and also Lily, the little one that Poppy Goldworthy sees to. We’ll be back well before suppertime.’

He sat down in the chair near hers, a mug of honeyed tea in his hand. He leaned forward and placed an identical mug on the small table between them. She put the piece she was working on down at her side, in the willow basket there, and took up her tea, cradling it with both hands. Berilac told her of his meeting with Rosco and Griffo at the Town Hall last night after the town meeting, and their talk with Miz Woolthistle early this morning about bringing supplies into Bree . . . that and his intention to pick some of the children up when class was over. ‘She’s an interesting woman, the Innkeeper,’ he commented. ‘One of the more broader thinking of the Big Folk.’

The conversation drifted into more personal avenues – news of the new baby on the way and how was Fairlight bearing up with this pregnancy. Mausi gently chided him for not seeing his sisters yet, and he ducked his head in mock penitence. ‘Soon,’ he said, ‘soon.’ She asked him many question about her family, and how had they looked and exactly what had they said.

Before the both of them knew it, some time had passed, and the town bell tolled that it was just going on midday. Berilac got up quickly from his chair, saying he should go now if he were to make it to the Inn on time. Mausi waved him off with a smile, and picked up her sewing as he left the room.

~*~

His long strides brought him quickly to the Inn. As he walked past the little sidestreet just south of the Prancing Pony, he noted three young fellows, lounging about under a tree. They kept their eyes on him as he passed, and did not return the greeting he gave them.’ Up to no good,’ he thought as he passed them.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of them draw something from the waistband of his breeches and aim it at him. Berilac turned quickly and faced the group, raising his brows at Roddy, sling shot in hand.

‘I shouldn’t do that if I were you, young sir,’ he said in a friendly tone, his hazel eyes looking steadily at the boy. The Ranger’s right hand rested casually on the pommel of his sword. ‘Best save your ammunition for the bandits who will soon be here, not waste it on a friend to Bree.’ Uncomfortable with his steady watch of them, the three boys slunk off, further down the little street, disappearing behind one of the small clapboard buildings that occupied it.

Berilac relaxed the grip on his blade, and continued down the road toward the northern side door to the Inn.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar heard the boys yell into his tent, and it took a moment for him to wake up properly, and stumble out of his bedroll. Then he was worked up into his usual temper.

'I thought I told you...'

His words stopped when he caught the smell of cooking chicken stew. He sat at the campfire and quickly took a bowl. Turning over his shoulder he bellowed for his son, making sure he would not miss out either. At this point he was completely oblivious to Rudgar and Soran who were sitting across from him. Moving great spoonfulls into his mouth, he was absorbed with the stew till his son arrived. It was only then he noticed the campfire was empty of the chicken thief.

'Hmm..looks like he's had enough' Kandel shrugged and took a bowl. Taking a taste he grinned 'This is good! This thief won't ever see a war, he'll stay right here and cook!'

'Hmph...if I don't throttle him first' Lotar said with a low growl, his moth half full of food. Kandel raised an eyebrow 'Ah, ye're way too stubborn!' and gave Lotar a small reprieve.

Rustling around in his pocket absently, Lotar produced the letter the messenger had gave him. 'Well, he did little good waking me to give it to me. Now Im full I might as well read it'

Scanning it quickly, he shrugged. Little had changed at the camp. Food was still scarse and combined with the weather many were will. Their request was the same, they need help.

Lotar threw the letter into the fire, and took up his spoon again. 'Well, looks like we ned to hurry up on that town...'

[Arestevana]

Kirima woke to the smell of cooking. She stood slowly, rubbing he eyes and taking in the scene around her. Rudgar was standing by the fire, stirring something. It smelled quite a lot better than anything the bandits had eaten in a long while. The girl smiled. Who would have guessed that the chicken thief could cook?

A messenger walked into the clearing. He had a letter for Lotar, and one for Soran. Kirima sighed in disappointment. She was always eager for news from Weathertop, even with the terrible conditions there. They were starving, she realized with a start, while the scouting party had a good meal in front of them. Suddenly she felt ill. The feeling worsened as she saw Soran refuse his food, confirming that the letter told of starvation.

She sat down again, trying to quell the self-contempt she felt at the thought of eating while others could not. She saw Rudgar move away from the fire, falling asleep against a tree. An idea sprouted in her mind.

They were all thieves, were they not? A bag lay next to Rudgar, presumably filled with more food. She walked over and peered inside, being careful not to wake the sleeper. The bag held vegetables and eggs, and another chicken. Kirima gently lifted the bag and hid it a little ways from Lotar's tent. In a moment Kandel and Lotar left the tent, followed by the messenger who had brought news from Weathertop. Making sure Kandel and Lotar did not see her as they walked down to the fire, Kirima stepped out from behind the tent and tapped the messenger on the shoulder. She handed him the sack of food.

"Please," She said quietly, "Take this to Weathertop when you return. Give it to the families you think need it the most. And make sure Laira has enough for her children. Tell her it's from her brother."
The man nodded and left. Kirima watched for a moment as the messenger retreated down the path, then went back to sit at the fire, staring into the flames.

[ October 27, 2003: Message edited by: Arestevana ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth: end of school

Andreth set her pen down on the table, blew on the ink to dry it, and then hastily read over her letter.

Master Tomson and Mistress Letitia,

My best greetings to you. I fear that I have a serious matter to bring to your attention.

This morning, your son Will led two of his companions to the school and intentionally disrupted lessons by shooting peas into the classroom. Three of the children were hit, though none seriously. I fear that next time we may not be so lucky.

If these were normal times, I might regard this incident as a childish prank and look the other way. But, with conditions being what they are, I can not take this lenient stance. The Mayor's stated plan for the defence of Bree is to build trust between the Big and Little Folk; this school is one part of that plan.

Let me be totally blunt. I am presently laden down with responsibility at the Inn and school, as well as helping the volunteers to gather in the crops for storage. I can not afford time disciplining young men who should know better!

As you know, I am a member of Bree's Council of Burghurs. If there is a repeat of this incident, or another similar one where the students or myself are selected as targets, I will not hesitate to bring my complaint before the mayor. As you in particular should know, there have been instances in the past when a directive was issued forbidding any and all Breelanders from buying produce or livestick from a specific farm.

I truly hope we do not come to such a drastic measure. I will rely on your good will and integrity to hold your son in check.

Andreth Woolthistle,

Innkeeper, The Prancing Pony
Member of the Council of Burghurs


Andreth looked at the letter and sighed. She did not feel totally comfortable with this course of action but she felt she had little choice. She was enough of a realist to understand that, if she did nothing, Will's misconduct was likely to continue. It would do no good to make a polite request to him, or even to his father. The only thing the two men seemed to understand was a heavy hand above their heads. She folded the letter in half and ran over to hand it to one of the kitchen girls for immediate delivery to the Farroweed farmstead. Then she darted back and stuck her head out the door calling the children in from recess.

The remainder of the morning went reasonably well. She gathered the children round to listen to stories of elves and dragons while they ate something out of their meager lunch packets, and then offered several sugestions how they could practice their letters and numbers at home by using a stick to scratch them in the dirt. As she was finishing up the last story, there was a knock at the door and the familiar face of Berilac appeared once again.....

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

Chathol-lin's post for Harald:

Harald's post

Harald was so pleased after his encounter with Minastan he practically ran down the street

Why, he agreed to do the spy mission at once! And that look he gave me as I turned away. I do believe Minastan has gone sweet on me, much good may it do him. Well, I hope he comes back in one piece - with some good information.

He headed for the inn, a few streets away. As he neared the inn, he heard the raised voices of children playing and remembered Andreth’s school. It reminded him of his mother, the former Mayor, and her ideas of bringing the Big and Little folk together at the market days.

Ma, I thought you had gone daft, he thought, but that was before the ruffians. Maybe Mistress Andreth knows what she is doing with this school business.

That was when a girl on the run came hurtling around the corner. She crashed straight into the mayor and he went down on his backside. From this vantage point he took a good look at the child and realized that for some reason she reminded him, like Andreth, of his mother. But he had no time to pursue this thought because the girl shouted in his ear:

“Did you see the Big boys? They threw something at Fippi – right through the window!”

“No, and I would like you to return to school. You can tell me what happened as we go.”

When they came to The Prancing Pony Harald said, “After you’ve finished helping with the hedges, come back to my house. I’m going to ask Miss Dantha if you can stay there a while. You will not sleep in the stables anymore.”

Willofain’s eyes grew wide and she smiled. Pulling bits of straw from her light hair, she ran toward Berilac and his group of Hobbit and Big children.

“And give Berilac my regards,” Harald called, surprising himself.

The folk in the common room looked up as Harald entered. “What next, Master Mayor?” said dour Elmirith.

“I’ll tell you, Elmirith” he said. “I want you to go about the streets, shouting that we need sturdy lads and lasses who will work hard on repairing the dikes. They will have to move earth and pile rocks. We can feed them, I think. That has to be pay enough. Will you do that, and get the Captain of Guards to help?”

“Aye,” growled Merilith, “I’m armed. I can walk the streets at will.” He stamped out.

“What was that about?” wondered Harald. He took a seat at a table, ordered hot cider, and waited to see who would show up with more ideas on the defense of the town. If anyone.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘I can wait in the courtyard here if you’re not done as yet.’ Berilac smiled graciously and stepped back a pace, giving the Innkeeper room to invite him in or say they had not yet finished.

She waved him and introduced him to the class. ‘Now you children who are going with Master Beril here, come up and gather round him. And you others, please gather up your lunch pails, or packets, and cloaks and be on your way home. Your parents will be waiting for you.’ She smiled as the class bent to the task of preparing to leave. When they were done and gathered in their little groups, she reminded them all she would see them tomorrow.

Smiles of pleasure greeted the arrival of the Ranger from Mausi’s children, Ella, Mondy, and Kali, and from Fippi, and little Lily. They rushed up to him, chattering their morning’s doings to him, especially the exciting news of the arrival of the mean boys. Kali showed off the red mark on his leg, rather proud of it. And little Lily, clasping the stone on her necklace, spoke up quietly and showed her still red ear. Both grinned in delight, and puffed out their little chests, when Beril commented how brave they were to have endured the injury so well. His eyes narrowed for a moment recalling the ‘toughs’ he had spoken to on his way to the Inn.

He cleared the grave expression from his features and smiling once again bade the children come with him – they were going to walk the Hedge before he took them home, and would each of them please point out the places where he or she knew it was easy to slip through it. He took out a small, leather bound notebook and a hard, drawing charcoal telling them he would sketch the hedge as they went along and mark their findings with an ‘X’.

Beril was just about to herd them out of the classroom, when he looked up and saw two of the Big Folk children standing at the edge of his Hobbit group. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked, waving them forward with his hand, as the Hobbits made way for them.

Kari, it was, and Willowfain, the two girls told him. By this time, Lily and Fippi had gone to stand by each of their seatmates, vouching for them. And pleading - couldn’t they please come with them. Beril gave the girls a considering look, and asked if that would be alright with their parents. The girls, of course, nodded ‘yes’, eagerness for an adventure shining in their eyes. ‘Right, then, let’s go’ he said opening the door, and smiling as the young ones spilled out into the afternoon sun like little birds, twittering and eager to try their wings.

A quick word to Andreth that Kari and Willowfain were with him and he would see them home, and then the group went running and skipping south down the Great East Road that ran by the front door to the Inn. They would start where the southern edge of the hedge met Bree Hill and work their way round to the north.

They had almost neared the South-Gate gatekeepers lodge when he held up his hand and halted them. ‘Now, who can show me any place here you’ve used to get through?’ There was a certain hesitation – these were after all their ‘secrets’ and the secrets of their friends they were revealing.

‘Remember,’ he said, sensing their reluctance, ‘if you can sneak out – the bandits can sneak in.’ He fished into the pack he had brought with him, and gave each of the children an apple, not pressing them again for information, just waiting as he chewed his own.

Moments later, amidst the sounds of teeth chomping on apples, one of them spoke up . . .

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Novnarwen]

Fippi

"Now you children, who are going with Master Beril here, come up and gather round him. And you others, please gather up your lunch pails, or packets, and cloaks and be on your way home. Your parents will be waiting for you."

Fippi knew at once who he was going with. Yes, yes, yes, it was, Berliac! How the little hobbit boy had looked forward to this, being accompanied by a RANGER! It was amazing, unbelievable. The boy tried not to show how happy he was, trying to keep his head cool. It was supposed to look like this was an ordinary thing, which came natural to Fippi. The hobbit followed the other children, now totally unaffected by the pea-episode. Or rather, his excitement was far too big to think about that now.

Fippi talked eagerly with Ella, Mondy and Kali. Little Lily followed the conversation eagerly. All the time, Fippi tried to get Berlaic's attention by laughing loudly or sending quick comments now and then. They didn't stop once though, not until they reached the South-Gate. At this moment Berliac held up his hand, making the children fall silent.


"Now, who can show me any place here you’ve used to get through?"

Fippi gazed upwards, looking at the gate, before he tried to figure out what the other children were thinking.

"Remember, if you can sneak out – the bandits can sneak in."

Fippi swallowed. Bandits? Dangerous ones? It was just moments before he had yelled out these questions, but calmed, trying to seem sophisticated and relaxed. Berliac tossed an apple over at each of the children. Fippi grabbed it eagerly with both hands. All of them chewed the red circle formed apple, enjoying it to the fullest. Fippi felt the sour juice on his tongue. He let out a little; "Mm," before he thought about what Berliac just had said.

Fippi was just about to open his mouth to say how he got in and out at times, but remembered something very important. He wasn't really allowed to sneak out of town, and certainly not alone, which he had did a number of times, to climb the many trees out there. He hesitated. What if the Ranger told his father, Hedgar or his mother Rosie, for that matter. Fippi knew that his mother would probably over react and get very mad. Hedgar would probably not be too strict about it, but when he would get the warning look from his wife, Rosie, it would get other tones. On the other hand, the little hobbit thought about how he could help this ranger by telling him how Fippi could get in and out, without anyone noticing. This was indeed an encouraging thought. Maybe this would open the doors to Fippi of becoming a RANGER!

Fippis stepped forwards, after thinking about this. "Do you promise not to tell my parents?" he whispered in Berliac's ears. The grown-up hobbit grinned, patting Fippi at the back. "Your secret is safe with me," he said, urging Fippi to explain.

"Do you see those branches?" Fippi asked, moving towards them. Berliac and the others followed, muttering about whether there could be something there. It didn't exactly look like something else than rotten pieces of wood. Fippi bent down, taking the branches away, uncovering what seemed to be some kind of a hole. "It's been hidden from you adults, who don't know where to look," Fippi said, smirking at Berliac.

The Hobbit child explained how the hole ran like a little tunnel with ways inside the hedge. Afterwards it bent outwards, and you would come out to a trench. The other children ate their apples, whilst listening attentively to Fippi's explanation. Berliac smiled, making a drawing on his piece of paper. Fippi finished, being very proud by his honesty. He ate his apple with no further comments.

[ October 28, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

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

[Annunfuiniel]

Rosco

"The Mayor said he would head for the Prancing Pony. So you should find him there."

These words uttered by the Captain of Guards ringing in his mind Rosco walked back from the Town Hall kicking pebbles and biting his lip. Just my luck! I was just there… But reaching the inn's door Rosco decided to try and leave his foul mood on the doorstep. You have a job to do; be polite! he advised himself and stepped in.

Warmth and the sweet smells of cooking lunch greeted the hobbit as he entered the common room. The atmosphere would have been welcoming – had there not been the scowling patrons and their low murmurs. But Rosco had endured them the first time and so he was determined to do now. He scanned the room for the Mayor Harald but, failing to find him there, he addressed a maid, asking her if she knew where the man was. The waitress, burdened by a tray of pints and a bowl of steaming soup, hastily nodded towards the back of the room where a heavy door led to one of the more private chambers of the inn.

"Thank you, kind miss." Rosco spoke and bowed in hobbit fashion before making for the door the maid had pointed at him. In front of this sudden politeness the young girl nearly dropped the dishes she was carrying. The crowd hushed. Rosco took the door handle and grinned in secret, sensing the round eyes staring at him. Finally regaining her balance the maid managed to inch her chin back on its place and stuttered "You're we-welcome, Sir…" just when Rosco stepped into the smaller room and slammed shut the door.

* * * * * * *

Mayor Harald sat in a big chair, legs stretched towards the fire. Had Rosco closed the door a bit more carefully his entrance would probably have gone unnoticed by the man who was quite obviously engaged in serious contemplation. His frown was deep and his strikingly blue eyes stared at the fire, however without seeing it. At the slam of the door his gaze became focused again and fixed on the newcomer; and for a fraction of a second Rosco witnessed a deeper frown on the Mayor's face before inexpressiveness veiled his thoughts.

"Mr. Woodfarer..." Mayor Harald began and rose from his chair, trying to figure out a proper way to greet this Little Folk leader. But Rosco made the decision easy for him by walking briskly to him and shaking his hand.

"Mayor Harald", Rosco spoke solemnly while gesturing a polite 'no' to the man's invitation to take a seat; "I give you credit for the way you handled yesterday's meeting; it was a success beyond all hopes." The hobbit stepped closer to the hearth and extended his hands towards the fire. He meant what he said but seriously doubted the Mayor would appreciate his commendation. "It is vital that the defences be repaired - and the Hobbits will do their bit in this task." Rosco continued and turned back to face the Mayor, just in time to see how doubt flashed in his eyes. The past prejudices, misgivings and misunderstandings seemed to rest like a thick fog between the two, keeping them from seeing or hearing each other properly. Harald nodded but said naught.

"But gathering supplies is as vital too.", Rosco went on before the silence turned awkward. At these words the Mayor stirred uncomfortably and then spoke out loud what Rosco already knew;

"I have spoken with Mistress Woolthistle about this same matter and I gave her my word to do my best to help. But we need all spare men for the renovations..."

"This is not the problem as we can handle the gathering; we have both wagons and folk for the task. The real problem is that the roads don't seem to be safe anymore..." And Rosco gave a short account of the previous night's happenings. As he finished the Mayor eyed him a while before answering;

"What do you want me to do? As I said already I have no men; no men to patrol the roads day and night. The defences..."

"The defences are useless if the outlaws can walk the roads freely whenever they wish!" Rosco's voice rose menacingly before he could control himself. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm down before continuing; "If they realize there's no-one to even try and block their way then what will keep them from walking right in before you have even began the repair?"

The Mayor seemed reluctant to admit the truth behind the hobbit's words. Fiddling his red neckerchief he paced across the room couple of times before forming his answer;

"I will speak with the Captain of Guards to see what we can do. And the Rangers...they could also help in this matter."

Rosco wasn't all that pleased with this promise but he knew also that it was the best that could be expected. The two shook hands again, both noticeably relieved that the awkward meeting was over. Rosco took to the door but turned back once more before pulling it open;

"I will ask my brother how he feels about the Rangers doing the patrolling. But one thing is for sure: no-one walking those roads should be unarmed." And with those words he left the room.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

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

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar

Hedgar sat in his wooden chair, having a cup of hot tea in his hand. He sipped it, making sounds which were very unusual, when drinking mid-day tea. However, this wasn't just an ordinary day; it was one of those days when Hedgar needed to think. He didn't have time to do that much on ordinary days. But hey, I can always try to think, Hedgar thought, finishing his cup of tea.

He leaned back, wondering how horrible this was for Fippi. For it sure was horrible, right? What if he sat at the back row in the classroom, on a stool, made of cheap wood? That couldn't be nice, could it? Hedgar grew saddened by this thought. And the more he gave thought to it, then more desperate did he become. "The Big Folk children are at least two times the size of Fippi," he muttered, trying to imagine Fippi almost getting stepped on. Was he that little. Hedgar questioned himself, but tried to think positive. His hobbit boy was a brave, young, stout, energetic, good fellow. He hesitated, brave?

Hedgar tried to clear his thoughts, giving thought to Rosie, who was currently very busy at the kitchen. She was making pea-stewing with mushrooms, her very own speciality. Hedgar was pleased, and decided to go out to close the mills. It was very early for such a decision, but the Hobbit had far too much on his mind, for having the mills open. The only thing he should and would be focusing on, was Fippi, his hobbit boy. His son was probably struggling with this obnoxious idea, about socializing at some kind of a school, which had in the first place been proposed by a BIG FOLK woman!

[ October 29, 2003: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Beril crouched down by Fippi, who had turned his attention now to the eating of the apple. ‘Well done, Master Fippi,’ he said, smiling at the lad whose cheeks at crimsoned a bit from the attention and from pride. The Ranger showed the youngsters the place he had marked on his diagram of the hedge, and read the notes he had printed beside it. His finger followed along under the words as he spoke them, and Fippi nodded his head at how Beril had captured what he said in word and pictures.

Apples in hands, they moved at a fair pace northward toward the West Gate. Beril walked at a measured pace, while the children ran before and behind like little shore birds skittering on the sands.

They were about halfway to the gatekeeper’s lodge, when one of the children tugged at his sleeve, halting him, and drawing the group’s attention to another place in the hedge . . .

[piosenniel]

Esgallhugwen's post

Lily ate her apple with joy, so sweet and delicious, as they continued to walk along the hedge. She caught a glimpse of one of the holes she remembered sneaking into. She quickly scampered up to Berilac and pointed it out to him. 'There, there!' she pointed eagerly. Berilac turned about smiling at little Lily. 'Where?' he replied happily.

Lily rushed over the hedge and pushed away a thin layer of leaves and branches, revealing a narrow tunnel just big enough to fit one of the children of the Big Folk snuggly if they decided to pass through. 'This is where I come thwu to watch Poppy play with her shiny daggers that Gaffer Goldworthy gave her, see if you go in all the way and come out and walk just a little ways there's a dry stump of dead wood Poppy uses to pwactise' She smiled up eager and happy - she, too, had found a hole that Beril could write down in that nice little note book of his.

She continued to talk about how Poppy loves to go there and took up Kari's hand leading her down to show her.

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

[Orofaniel]

Rosie

Rosie was in the kitchen, preparing food for the small family as soon as Fippi had finished his first day at school. She liked the idea that Fippi had gone off to somewhere to learn and too meet new children. She was even happy that he would meet some Big Folk. It would be good for him since they all lived so close at hand. Hedgar, however didn't like this more this day than he had done yesterday. But he had approved so this was definitely and improvement from his side.

The nice pea stewing was finally finished and Rosie sat down next to Hedgar to have a cup of nice, sweet tea.

"I hope he is doing alright," Rosie said while sipping her warm tea. The tea was so hot that she burned herself on the cup. Her fingers were itching and her tongue was numb. "At school I mean," Rosie added when she had put down her cup.

Hedgar didn't say much, just nodded carefully.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

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

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post for Willowfain:

The Great Hedge loomed high above the children’s heads, even the Big children. But when you got up close, Willofain knew there would be thin branches and holes.

“Deer made some of the holes,” she said to her companions. “And then the dry weather made them worse this summer.”

“How do you know?” asked Kari.

“Because when I lived out in the country, I used to slip inside town! You see, I used to live with Aunt Ivy in a little house not so far from the crossroads. She was nice but so old! She did not want me going into town but when she took her nap I went anyway. I shouldn’t have, and now that she went to sleep and would not wake up I can’t tell her I’m sorry.”

Berilac overhead this with interest. “You used to slip inside the town? Where?”

“Here,” said the orphan, and she pointed to a large opening. To Berilac’s horror he saw it was dangerously near the West Gate, and a Hobbit child could have walked upright through it.

[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Lily and Kari hung back with Berilac for a while, watching the Ranger as he sketched the hole that Willowfain had shown him. Willowfain walked closely alongside the Hobbit, her finger darting out to point out the places where the hole entered the hedge and then exited on the outer side. The dike at the exit point, she had said, was all crumbly and the ditch nearly filled in there. It was easy to scramble across it to play in the forested lands that side of Bree.

Soon, all the children had surged ahead of him again. There were a number of crows perched along the top of the hedge, at this far northern section of it, and they squawked and shook their feathers at the little group as they passed by. Kari threw her apple core up to them, and one of them sailed toward the fruity missile, catching it neatly in his mouth. The others raised a ruckus and squawked louder at the group. They were rewarded with a barrage of cores flying in the air – some caught by the clever crows, some falling back to the ground to be fallen on themselves by the ever hungry birds.

They drew in sight of the gatekeeper’s lodge for the Northgate. His high stool, was empty, Berilac noted, and the door to the lodge was ajar, and swung slowly back and forth on its hinges when the breezes reached it. ‘Where is he?!’ muttered, the Ranger, as he shaded his eyes, peering toward the gate.

It was Mondy who tugged at his sleeve and pointed back in the direction of the Inn. ‘He goes every afternoon to the Prancing Pony. Same time – when the sun’s just about where it is now. Gets himself a skin of Ale, talks to the fellows who sit about on the Inn steps; then; he wanders back to the lodge and settles in for the night.’ Berilac filed this appalling bit of information away, to be shared later with the Mayor and with Rosco.

His attention was drawn away from this problem by an insistent tug on the sleeve from one of the other children . . .

[ArwenBaggins]

Kari tugged impatiently on Berliac's sleeve. "Sir! I know where a hole is!"

She bent down without waiting for a response and pushed back a few loose branches. A wide and farely tall hole was exposed; a bandit could very easily crawl through on his hands and knees. "See! I sometimes like ta sneak through here when Father gets mad at me..." She playfully frowned and bent down to show how she crawled through the hedge.

"We should get it patched up. Don' want no bandits in 'ere!" She got back up proudly, smiling.

[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kali, Ella, Mondy

"Surely there can't be any more holes in the hedge! We must have found them all," Lily crossed her arms and stamped her foot impatiently. For after a long day at school and an even longer trek, her feet were beginning to ache and her stomach to grumble. Nor was she the only one who was feeling a little restless.

"Just a bit longer," Berilac assured the children, glancing towards the older Honeysuckle siblings who had promised to show him one or two trouble spots near the North Gate. Berilac nodded at the gatekeeper who was at least on duty and continued walking towards the base of Bree Hill. It was Mondy and Ella who now spoke up, identifying two different places nearby where there were clear breaks in the hedge.

One was a tiny hole, only big enough for a young hobbit lass to wriggle inside. It was half hidden by a number of small branches that Ella had propped up at the entrance the day before, thinking to conceal the secret place for herself and her friends so no others could find it. She slipped inside the opening and came out holding a water flask along with the remnents of a hard cracker or two stored in a small pouch, provisions she had left on an earlier afternoon outing.

The group continued a few more paces until they came to the point where the fortifications actually disappeared from sight for a moment, veering around to their extreme right. Following the path around, Mondy pointed to a gaping hole of considerable proportions just ahead that extended clear through the hedge and came out on the other side, some five or six feet tall. Of all the places they had visited, this one was in the worst shape.

"What happened here?" queried Berilac, his voice laced with concern.

Mondy looked over and grinned. Apparently this was a well known story in the streets of Bree. "This is where Will Farroweed drove a cart into the hedge! He stole a flask from his father and went driving madly down the Great East Road. Only his horse and cart veered off and catapaulted over the ditch, slamming them into the hedge."

Berilac said nothing but was privately appalled that nothing had been done to repair the mess other than to drag the broken cart away; this had only made the hole look bigger. He shook his head and sighed, "Is that it then? Everyone finished?" He glanced at the members of the group one-by-one. Kali fidgeted and hung his head, refusing to meet Berilac's eye.

Noticing his brother's behavior, Mondy leaned over and whispered, "What's wrong? If you know something, you need to tell it!"

"It's not exactly the hedge," Kali spluttered out, trying to explain. "Well, it is and it isn't... You see it's the place where the hedge ends and Bree-Hill begins." He stopped an instant and sighed, "I didn't want to tell anybody because there's a treasure there."

The young lad looked up sheepishly, then broke loose of the group and sprinted forward with everyone else following behind. He led them to the spot where the hedge came flush against the base of Bree-Hill. The fortifications halted abruptly since no bandit could have scaled such a vertical slope. Unlike the earlier parts of the hedge and dyke, this section was far from the road and shielded from sight by a thick screen of overhanging trees and bushes. If anyone had wanted to conduct business on the sly, this would have been the perfect place.

Kali tugged on Berilac's sleeve and lowered his voice, "Promise me you won't get angry... And don't tell mom..." Berilac smiled as Kali led the older hobbit forward underneath the cliff. To anyone who might chance by this hidden nook, the outer facade of the hedge looked perfectly normal. However, Kali pulled out a branch or two and soon revealed the beginnings of an inner hole. The lad poked his body inside and came out again carrying a rusty dagger whose point was broken off, the remains of several broken beer flasks, and a copper penny or two.

"My treasure! Maybe there were pirates here?" Kali's face looked hopeful; he held the dagger up to the light as if it was the finest sword in Bree and stared round at his friends to see how they would respond. Ella and Mondy exchanged quiet glances. Since Kali's greatest dream was to sail off in a boat, they were not surprised their younger brother would think these things were left by pirates. What did surprise them is that he had never before told either of them about his treasure.


[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac

‘Brilliant! All of you!’ The words of praise tumbled from the grinning mouth of the Ranger. ‘I knew your keen eyes would catch things the grown-ups didn’t notice.’ Berilac gathered the children about him and showed them the finished drawing of the hedge with all its extra entrances and exits, pointing out each child’s names who had given the information. He told them that they all had had good ideas when they tried to hide their secret holes with leafy branches, because that would also be a good idea for how to fill up the holes.

Little Kali piped up with another idea, talking about the treasures he had found. ‘You know, it was kind of dangerous at first crawling into the hedge there. Those broken flasks left a lot of sharp pieces, and I nicked my hands and knees a few times before I got most of it cleaned out.’ He chewed on his lip as he worked through his thoughts. ‘Why don’t we gather up the old broken bottles and mugs and flasks we have in the rubbish heap outside the town and stuff those sharp pieces in there, too?’

Someone snickered at the idea of bringing garbage back into town, but Berilac said he thought that just might work. He looked appraisingly at Kali, wondering if his mother knew the young scamp had been frequenting the rubbish dump in probable search for more treasures.

‘I’ve a final treat for you all, for being such good hedge-scouts and willing helpers.’ He fished once again into his pack and brought out a leather sack tied securely at the top. ‘Hold out your hands,’ he said, his eyes twinkling as he placed several pieces of strawberry taffy, wrapped up in twists of thin paper, and a rather large jawbreaker in each pair. There was one jawbreaker left, and the children wondered who would get the extra one. But Berilac popped the round sweet into his own mouth and winked at them. ‘My favorite!’ he explained, securing the candy in his left cheek.

Kari’s house was the closest. As the group approached the short path from her gate to the front door, Berilac thought he saw the curtain twitch in the front window, and someone peer out for the briefest of moments. ‘Good!’ he thought to himself, someone is home to meet her. Berilac waved as a friendly greeting and the curtain fell back into place. Kari gave Lily a little hug, saying she would see her tomorrow; then, ran hurriedly to her house and in the door.

Lily was delivered safely to Poppy’s door, her hands sticky from taking the jawbreaker in and out of her mouth to see what color it had turned as she sucked on it. Then it was Fippi’s turn. Hi parents came out to meet him, and Fippi scampered toward them, waving a piece of taffy each for them in his hands. Words tumbled all over themselves as he tried to cram his day into sentences to tell them. He turned as Berilac and the others started down the road and waved at them.

Willowfain was the next to last, leaving them as they reached the Inn. She, too, waved her good-byes, saying she would see them all tomorrow. Andreth made a brief appearance at the door, and motioned the Ranger over. She had a puzzled look on her face as she scanned the remaining children. ‘Isn’t Edmund with you?’ she asked. ‘I thought he might have joined your group.’ Berilac shook his head ‘no’, saying they hadn’t seen her son. Kali began to fidget at the mention of Edmund, torn between what he’d seen and his natural inclination not to rat out another child.

It was Ella who pushed her younger brother forward. And Berilac who laid his hand on the young man’s shoulder, saying he needed to tell Miz Andreth what he knew – so she wouldn’t worry. Kali took a deep breath, knowing that what he saw was not going to make her worry any less.

‘I saw him talking to that Will fellow,’ he said in a barely audible voice, his toes scuffing hard in the dirt. ‘I think he went with him . . .’

Berilac offered to come back and help find Edmund, but Andreth, said she would take care of the matter and went back inside. ‘Oh, boy!’ muttered Kali, to his brother and sister. ‘She had the same look mima gets when one of us gets in trouble!’

Soon the four were back at Mausi’s house. And the children vied for her attention, wanting to share the news of the day. Berilac had withdrawn to the front room. He sat in one of the chairs by the little fireplace, his notebook open to the map he’d made. A week, he thought, could see this project done, the holes all filled, the hedge secured against intrusion.

He rubbed his forehead as he reread the notes about the broken knife that Kali had shown him. Had the bandits already come into town to do spying, he wondered. Or was the hole just a place they used as a vantage point and had come in no further. ‘That would be preferable,’ he thought to himself, ‘but not likely.’ Ella’s voice called him from his dark wonderings, saying that dinner would be ready soon, and mima had asked if he would help Mondy gather in a little more wood for the cooking fire.

‘With pleasure, m’Lady,’ he said, laughing a little as she blushed. ‘Show me the way!’

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

[Eruantalon]

Rudgar woke the next morning refreshed and happy. He had a wonderful dinner and looked forward to a nice breakfast. Now to just get start…..there seemed to be a problem his bag was missing. He had been robbed. They actually robed the man who fed them! Now if this was not cause to get upset what was?

He didn’t show how upset he was. He walked straight down to the camp and took a look around. He sneaked around the hedges and corners so no one would see him. No one was cooking anything by the fire. No one was eating anything?

He snuck down behind Lotars tent. He lifted the edge and waited. No one came into the tent. No one had his food anywhere. He couldn’t seal it back. It was early and not many where up. The ones that where up where just waking up? He didn’t understand did they steal his food out of spite? Why would they steal food they didn’t plan on eating? They couldn’t have eaten it the night before. He had a giant pot of chicken stew he made.

The anger he felt dug deep into him. What kind of bandits are these? I’ll have to get some proper ones and befriend them. Then there will be some one to watch my back. I have to get started soon this Lotar isn’t really moving that fast. I know where I can find people. I just have to go closer towards the town. I’ll pick up a good set of people and we’ll be off plundering soon!!

No more of this and none of them will know what I’m up to either. Just have to push this Lotar out of the way and I’ll have command over all of them. Still I sleep vary light this thief must be vary light footed? Maybe I can get them on my side in the end.

The morning went right on and every one awoke. Rudgar needed to get out of there soon. He went to kandel and asked if anyone was going out to scout for new recruits. He said that wasn’t what they where doing today. “That’s my chance no ones looking so I’ll round them all up.” Seeing his chance he took to the woods and told Kandel and let him know he was going out to get more food. Since they would probably need it.

He went walking through the brush and picked berries while he went. They weren’t eggs but they would do for now. It seemed like a nice day to be out. Rudgar enjoyed his walk through the forests. He got nearer to the town and took an unmarked path. He went down to the end where a cave was situated at the other side of a hill.

“Hello is anyone home?”

“Rudgar what are you doing here?”

“Tarin I’ve taken up with some bandits. There not proper ones but they’ll do for now. They have greater numbers up on the weather top. I have gotten a plan and I am going to offer you a chance.”

“What do you mean Rudgar?”

“I mean attacking and plundering the town of Bree!”

“Rally now we’ll have to get a nice number together for that.”

“Tarin pay attention.” He said in a mocking slow manner.

“They have bigger numbers on the weather top.”

“Yes of course. I’ll round up some ruff characters and you can do the same right?”

“The sooner we start the sooner we finish!!”

The two bandits went out into the day with the promise of gold in there minds. They had time and they had lots of people who would want in on this. The town of Bree was large enough to promise a good bounty. Rudgar explained his plans as he went along. Tarin listened intently as they went along.

[ October 31, 2003: Message edited by: Eruantalon ]

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar & Family

Hedgar leapt towards Fippi as his son arrived. There was sure need for a hug here, the hobbit thought. He grabbed the little hobbit, but didn't hug him until Berliac and the other children had left. "Bye!" Fippi called after them, to Hedgar's annoyance. Fippi was thereafter led by his father into the dining room, where Rosie was just about to call them for dinner.

"How was it?" Hedgar asked Fippi, eagerly.

Rosie looked at her husband, but didn't say anything. Hedgar ate his stewing, still waiting for a reply. Fippi made a grimace, as he discovered the pea-stewing.

"What's wrong with the peas?" Hedgar cried out. For his sake, he thought this dinner was wonderful - the best. And he just couldn't understand how Fippi could make grimaces. He breathed heavily, trying to figure out how he could apologize for his behaviour.

"I didn't mean to be harsh on you boy," he started, while seeing in the corner of his eye, Rosie's lips tightly curled together; she was frustrated.

"I was only wondering about..." Hedgar fell silent. Fippi didn't even look at him; he just kept looking down at the peas. Hedgar tried again to figure out how he could solve this in a peaceful way, but couldn't really come up with anything. How come he had lost his patience so quickly?

"I don't like peas, I never have! The outburst came as a surprise, but Hedgar was more eager to hear why it came than the fact that Fippi was actually mad.

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

[ArwenBaggins]

The door to the small cottage swung open and Kari bound inside. "Father! I had a great day at school today!" She dropped her lunch pail by the door and went to sit next to her father near the window.

"I heard..." Alvinac murmured, putting down his mug of ale. "I went to pick you up earlier, and Andreth said that you went home with a group of others and a Ranger."

Kari beamed. "Yeah, an' I made all kinds of fri-" Alvinac stopped her, a stern but worried look on his face.

The miller took a deep drink from his mug and continued. "I saw a Hobbit Ranger bring you home."

The girl frowned a bit and kicked her feet slightly. All she could manage was a slight wimper of sympathy. Alvinac stood and slammed the door closed. "You did not tell me that Hobbits would be at this school!"

Kari stood up in protest. "There's nothing wrong with hobbits! They're just as normal as you and me, but a little shorter! My new hobbit friend Lily even said I looked like a hobbit 'cause of my curly hair!" her expression tightened and she stomped her foot.

"You," her father paused, trying to decide if he wanted to show his true emotions. He then continued. "and I may think that hobbits are just people too, but everyone else doesn't! Do you want to be made fun of and teased for the rest of your life? Do you want your nickname to be 'Hobbit-girl'?"

Kari blinked. Father likes hobbits too! I'll be able to go to the school after all! She thought to herself.

Just as if reading her mind, Alvinac got down on his knees and looked Kari in the eye. "I've got to protect you. You can't go back to that school. I'll have to talk to Andreth in the morning."

His daughter opened her mouth to protest, but decided it was of no use. He was going to talk to Andreth, and that was that.

[ November 01, 2003: Message edited by: ArwenBaggins ]

[piosenniel]

Will and gang harass the children going home

Once the Ranger had left, Will and his friends returned to the place where they had told Edmund they would meet him. They were brave after the fact, calling the Hobbit Ranger all sorts of names, and affirming each other’s opinion that he had no right to try to push them around.

They crept a little closer to the street edge to have a good view of the Inn. They could see the Ranger collecting his group and made a few rude comments on the character of the Big Folk children who went with them. The others in the class began to trickle out. And before they had all left the classroom, Edmund came running up from a back street, his little squirrel tucked safely in his tunic. He had devised a little harness with a thin piece of rope for a leash so it couldn’t run off.

‘Hurry,’ said Will, motioning him to them. ‘I see a likely group we can follow along with.’

Edmund had forgotten to look for a pea shooter, and Will pulled out his extra one and loaded the boy’s pocket with dried peas for ammunition. ‘Lookee there,’ snorted Roddy, pointing to the last group of five to leave the Inn Courtyard and head down the road. ‘What the heck are they doing with those stupid Hobbit kids?’

The gang’s head turned to see Rollo and Randy head west with three Hobbits – Marigold, Pearl and her little brother Hamson. Hamson was laughing uproariously at something one of the twins had said, and even the two older girls were giggling. ‘There’s our pigeons!’ cried Will, nudging Edmund. Edmund gave a nod and a grin to the rest of the boys, saying, ‘Come on! I know how we can sneak behind the Inn and over the lane where Randy and Rollo live. There’s some bushes there we can hide behind.’

The gang was soon in place, and soon after their ears caught the laughing and chattering of the little group as they approached. ‘Let’s get ‘em,’ whispered Will. Roddy, Bart, Edmund, and Will rushed out and circled the little group of Hobbits and the twins. They taunted the twins calling them all sorts of horrid names for liking the Hobbits. And the Hobbits they called worse names and dashed in to push them about. When the twins yelled at them to stop – Bart, Edmund and Will fired off round after round of peas at them, hitting the now screaming and crying children in the arms, legs, and faces. Roddy was the worst – he had brought some old eggs in a satchel from his father’s farm, and threw the rotten missiles.

One of the Big Folk who lived nearby heard the commotion and rushed out with her broom, driving the gang away from the frightened and hurt children. Will and gang went running, laughing at their fine prank. They split up once they got back to the main street – Will, Bart, and Roddy to run home, and Edmund to sneak back to the Inn.

On the way back, Edmund ran into one of his friends. ‘Boy are you gonna get it,’ his friend told him. ‘Your mom’s been looking all over for you. She came to our house to see if you were with me. I tried to cover for you, but my mom gave me her “look” and I caved in, saying I had no idea where you went.’

Edmund blanched at this news. He skirted the Inn and sneaked in the back way to the stables. Climbing up to the loft, he settled in to one of the hay piles. ‘Best I just wait it out up here,’ he told his squirrel, as he took him out of his tunic and settled the animal in his lap. ‘Maybe mom will have forgotten if I wait long enough.'

The squirrel cocked his little head and seemed to give Edmund a look of sympathy.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth worries about her son...

Will? Edmund was with Will? Kali's news had the opposite effect that Berilac had intended. Of all the situations she could imagine, this had to be one of the worst. She vowed to make good on her threat that she'd voiced in her earlier letter.

Still, that didn't solve her present problem. She needed to get her son back as quickly as she could. Will was twice as old as Edmund. What could the older boy possibly want other than to tease Edmund, or drag him off on some serious mischief?

Her own reaction had initially been one of anger that her son had stolen off without getting his mother's permission. But as minutes dragged on into hours and still no Edmund appeared, her anger gradually ebbed and was replaced by deepening concern. What if Will attacked the boy or enticed him into some dangerous situation where he could get hurt? She could not simply sit here and do nothing.

Andreth ordered Ban to saddle one of the horses and ride over to the Farroweed household to try to find out when their son was expected home. But there was no one at the house, not even Letty who had a clearer head on her shoulders than the other members of the family.

Next Andreth tried searching the streets of Bree and personally inquiring at the houses belonging to families with whom Edmund had been friendly. But no one she spoke with had seen her son. She even scratched out a brief note for Mayor Harald asking the deputies to let her know if any of them chanced upon Edmund in the course of their daytime rounds.

With nothing to do except sit and wait, wild thoughts ranged through her mind. Perhaps Kali was wrong. Perhaps, it hadn't been Will at all, but one of the ruffians from outside the city who'd come to threaten innocent children. She should have taken up Berilac's offer to help her find the boy. Panic welled up in Andreth's heart as she remembered the day that her husband had driven off in the wagon and never returned. In a very real sense, her boy was everything she had left.

Andreth pushed down her mounting unease and forced herself to go through the steps of greeting visitors at the Inn, discussing the menu with Cook, and instructing the servants on what to do, all the while keeping close contact with Ban who'd been sent out to do more searching, including all of Edmund's favorite spots where the lad liked to go when he was upset. When the stable boy returned without any news, Andreth found herself unable to continue with her chores, begging off, and going out on the porch of the Inn to talk with passersby and inquire if they'd seen either Will or Edmund.

By late afternoon, there was still no word and Andreth found herself fighting back tears. Her son was six years old and should be here at her side, not off somewhere with a band of hooligans. Just let him come home safely, she begged of whatever greater powers might be nearby, and I will make Will and Tom Farroweed sorry that they ever tangled with our family.

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post

Fippi comes home

School was now over. Fippi had to admit that he had enjoyed it very much. But the small incident with the pea hadn't been a very pleasant experience. He still got the small red mark on the back of his neck.

*~*

When Fippi arrived his father had given him a big hug. His father had seemed very eager to know how the school had been. "How was it?" he asked his son.

Fippi didn't say much however, he wasn't in the mood, as his mother used to call it. When people aren't willing or don't feel like talking, or even answering other people's question. Fippi was a very polite small boy, but it had its limits.

As Fippi walked in to the kitchen with his parents so they could eat, Fippi saw the pea -stewing that was on the table. It made him think of the pea he had been hit by earlier the same day.


What's wrong with the peas?" Hedgar asked loudly when he saw the grimace in Fippi's face. The hard voice was cold and strange. Fippi, knew however that his father meant to be angry, he just had a quick temper at times. It was understandable.

"I didn't mean to be harsh on you boy," he started, while he looked over at his wife Rosie. Se had been quiet for a long time, and she didn't start to speak now either.

"I was only wondering about..." Hedgar fell silent. Fippi tried to avoid his father eyes, and looked down in the mountain of peas on his plate. Yes, because it was a mountain of them...the green mountain of peas, he thought.

Then without thinking he blurred out: "I don't like peas, I never have!

Hedgar looked at Fippi. "You don't like peas?"

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

Rosie

Fippi remained silent, but the Rosie got up from her chair. She went over to Fippi, who had not dug his head down in his small hobbit hands. He was obviously upset by something. What was wrong with her boy? Why was he sad? Rosie thought. Had there been something that was wrong at school?

"What's wrong Fippi?" she asked him with a soft voice. But she hadn’t completed her sentence when she saw a red spot on the back of his neck. She gazed. "What is it dear?" Hedgar asked her, he had seen the queer look upon her face.

"Come and look for yourself." She said while she clapped her son on the head. "What's happened to you, boy?" Hedgar asked Fippi when he saw the red spot.

Fippi sighed. "There were some boys who threw peas on us at school. A pea hit me on the back of my neck," Fippi said trying to point where he had been hit.

"Oh...that's why you don't like the pea-stewing," Rosie said trying to comfort Fippi.

Hedgar didn't like the thought of his boy being hit by peas while he was at school. It was quiet obvious. There was a short silence before anyone said something.

"Maybe you should go and talk to the Innkeeper tomorrow, dear." Rosie said to Hedgar. Hedgar looked at her with great eyes. "You want m-me to g-go and t-talk to her?" he asked her seeming surprised of her question.

"Yes, of course I want you to. You are his father.....and you're not getting away, you must do this." She said strictly.

Hedgar smiled. "Of course I'm going to do this. Me, getting away? No...." he said. ” I was just so surprised that you wanted me to go and talk to the Innkeeper, that's all. " Hedgar added at the end.

"Yes, I know dear. We don't usually agree at these things...This time, however, we do agree." She smiled with her white teeth.

Rosie turned her head towards Fippi. He was still sitting on his chair all quiet. "So, what do you want me to make for you, eh?" Rosie said to him while she gave a short laugh. "Anything special you'd fancy?" She added. Fippi's eyes brightened up at once...

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth

Several hours later, with the dinner hour approaching, Andreth gave up her vigil on the porch and trudged drearily inside retreating to the kitchens. It was at this point that Ban ran up and tugged impatiently on her sleeve, pulling her towards the stables. The relieved look on his face said everything she needed to know. The lad scurried to the rear of the building where mounds of hay had been laid down for storage in anticipation of the coming winter; the stacks towered some fifteen feet above the ground. Ban scrambled his way to the nearest mound and began clawing upward, beckoning Andreth to follow. "Up here, Mistress Andreth. Use the ladder. It will be easier than scrambling up."

Andreth quickly scaled the ladder and stood on the topmost rung looking down. There, curled up in a little ball asleep, was a dirty, disheveled looking Edmund with a squirrel peering down from his shoulder. How long he had been there, she could not guess. The boy and his pet had never looked so good. Heedless of the height, she slipped her body into the hay, and cradled Edmund against her shoulder, being careful to bring along the squirrel as well. She managed to slide down the mound, and with Ban's steadying hand, was able to get to the ground with Edmund still asleep.

On the walk back to the Inn, Ban told Andreth the full story he'd heard on the streets how Will had led the boy into some serious mischief. Thankfully, none of the children had been hurt, but that had been a matter of luck. When Andreth heard the details of what had happened, she shuddered and sighed, knowing there would have to be some very serious consequences, both for her own son and those who had enticed him to do this deed. And she fully expected to be hearing from some angry parents shortly.

But something stayed her hand from waking the child now. Let him sleep through the night, which he undoubtedly would. They would deal with the problems in the morning. She slipped Edmund into his bed, pulled up the cover and bent down to kiss his head; then she put the squirrel back into his cage, stopping to feed it with a few nuts and seeds that Edmund had thoughtfully provided. How could a little boy be so loving and caring of such a tiny thing and yet turn around and belt other children? If only she knew the answer to that.....

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

[piosenniel]

Big Tom Farroweed receives Andreth's letter

The serving girl from The Prancing Pony took her time walking to the Farroweed farm. It was a nice day, and she was glad to be out of the stuffy atmosphere of the Inn and out from under the thumb of the cook. Those were, at least, part of the reason she ambled along as if she were on a holiday ramble. The other reason was that she knew this letter was something Big Tom was not going to like. And how did she know this? She had opened it and read it.

Her stride decreased markedly, almost to a halt, in fact, as she neared the narrow dirt path that led up to the cottage. In a moment of indecision she almost stuck the letter in the branches of a bush near the path’s entrance and thought to run back to the Inn. She knew, however, that Mistress Andreth would ask had she delivered the letter and would read the lie on her face if she tried to say ‘yes’. With a sigh, she dragged up to the front door and knocked.

No one answered, and she was about to stick the letter in the door jamb when the booming voice of Big Tom hailed her. Letty had gone off to the neighbors, he told her, wouldn’t be back for a while. The girl told him it was him she meant to see – Mistress Andreth had written him a letter.

Big Tom raised his brows at her and took the letter between his thick fingers. Opening it, her perused it from top to bottom; then, folded it up once again. ‘No use you standing here waiting for an answer,’ he told her. ‘Too many "high falutin” words! I can’t make sense of them. Letty’ll read it to me when she gets home.’ He turned a critical eye on the girl who had heaved a relieved sigh and was just about to make off for Bree. ‘Unless of course you want to read it to me?!’

‘Oh no, sir! Can’t read at all!’ she lied, turning quickly to go and hurrying off down the path. ‘Say “hi” to Miz Letty won’t you, sir? And so sorry I couldn’t help you.’

~*~

It was after dinner, the children had all gone to bed, that Big Tom remembered the letter he had jammed in the waistband of his breeches. He was sitting at the kitchen table, oiling the bridle for the cart horse, while Letty did some mending. The light from a bright oil lamp lit both their projects. Letty laid down her needle and thread and slipped the leather thimble from her finger. She turned the lamp up just a little, then smoothed the creased paper on the table’s top.

‘What is it, Letty?’ asked Tom, as he ran a soft cloth over the bridle, wiping off the excess oil and bringing a sheen to the metal. ‘Out with it now. I know it’s some nonsense from that troublemaker at the Pony.’

Letty blanched as she read it over. Clearing her throat, she read it quietly to Big Tom:

Master Tomson and Mistress Letitia,

My best greetings to you. I fear that I have a serious matter to bring to your attention.

This morning, your son Will led two of his companions to the school and intentionally disrupted lessons by shooting peas into the classroom. Three of the children were hit, though none seriously. I fear that next time we may not be so lucky.

If these were normal times, I might regard this incident as a childish prank and look the other way. But, with conditions being what they are, I can not take this lenient stance. The Mayor's stated plan for the defense of Bree is to build trust between the Big and Little Folk; this school is one part of that plan.

Let me be totally blunt. I am presently laden down with responsibility at the Inn and school, as well as helping the volunteers to gather in the crops for storage. I can not afford time disciplining young men who should know better!

As you know, I am a member of Bree's Council of Burghers. If there is a repeat of this incident, or another similar one where the students or myself are selected as targets, I will not hesitate to bring my complaint before the mayor. As you in particular should know, there have been instances in the past when a directive was issued forbidding any and all Breelanders from buying produce or livestock from a specific farm.

I truly hope we do not come to such a drastic measure. I will rely on your good will and integrity to hold your son in check.

Andreth Woolthistle,

Innkeeper, The Prancing Pony
Member of the Council of Burghers

Tom’s face was livid with anger as Letty put down the letter. ‘The gall of that woman! Threatening me! And all over some little bit of fun Will and his friends were having.’ Letty tried to shush him, saying he would wake the children. ‘Don’t shush me, woman! I’m having none of it!’ Big Tom drummed his fingers on the table, then balled up his fist and let it come crashing down on the letter. The lamp wobbled wildly from the force of his blow, and Letty jumped up to steady it.

‘She can take her Hobbit loving ways and keep ‘em outta my way. She’ll not be telling me how to take care of my own son. And I’ll be darned if she’ll threaten me with her “di-rectives” either.’ A decided crafty look crept onto his face. A rather frightening look, or so Letty thought, as the light from the lamp cast some of his features into shadow.

He nodded his head and spoke in an eerily calm voice to himself. ‘There’s plenty of others what will buy my pigs . . . just have to look them up . . .’

Letty shivered as she heard these words. Who were these ‘others’ she wondered, and just where would he be ‘looking them up’? her concerns went unvoiced as Big Tom pulled the letter toward him and bade her bring him the quill and ink.

He criss-crossed the text of Andreth’s letter with a thick ‘X’, then printed his answer in wobbly letters at the bottom:

Keep yer nose outta my biznuss! – TW

He plunked the nib of the quill down so hard on the dot of the exclamation point that ink splattered all over the bottom half of the letter in drips and thick drops. Tom left it on the table to dry, as he motioned for Letty to put out the light and come to bed.

‘I’ll have one of the boys take it into town early tomorrow morning,’ he said lighting their way upstairs with a small candle lantern. Letty shook her head as she trailed him up the steps. ‘How am I ever going to undo this?’ she murmured to herself . . .

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine's arrival at the bandits' camp - one day later

The riders quietly picked their path through the woods on the final leg of their journey from the Weather Hills. The earlier envoy who bore the letter to Soran had returned to the larger encampment at the Weather Hills and it was now a full day later. These two had been travelling since early morning and were glad to see their final destination in sight. Conditions on the trail had not been good; the day had been unseasonably cold for mid Halimath with a heavy fog making it difficult to see and steady rain that had soaked them to the bone.

The slender young man who rode in front was a trained scout who'd made this particular trip many times before and could easily pick out the hidden grove Lothar had chosen as his campsite, which was so cleverly concealed from outside eyes. His companion was built more heavily and gave the appearance of being a soldier. The older man wore a shirt of chain mail underneath a surcoat and on his head was a protective hat also made of mail. A decorative girdle was strapped about his waist with a heavy iron broadsword on one hip and a mace hanging from the other. He gave the appearance of being very comfortable with these weapons.

Even from halfway down the path, Guthwine could hear voices raised in anger. At the edge of the encampment but still within the protective shield of the trees, he raised his hand in warning and cautioned the scout to stop. No one in the camp itself was aware of the two men peering out at them from within the leafy overhang.

Guthwine shook his head and scowled as he surveyed the encampment. Lotar had evidently neglected to set a guard, perhaps because it was not yet twilight. Yet a mistake like that could be perilous if he had been an enemy. Ahead of him, he could hear and see the two men arguing. One was clearly Lothar, the leader of the group, a familar figure whom Guthwine had known for some years. The other was a cocky young lad whom Guthwine did not recognize who talked as fast as he could, defending something he'd done the day before.

"Did I give you permission to go out and round up recruits for this band?" Lothar belowed. "I'm in charge here...not you! When it's time to recruit, I'll let you know! Lotar drew a deep breath, struggling to master his temper, and then continued more evenly, "Rudgar, you'll just have to trust that I know a bit more about this situation than you do."

The boy retorted without hesitation, "Trust? How can I trust you and your pack of thieves?" His eyes swept accusingly over the others who sat huddled in the rain near the fire, then turned back to Lotar. "Did I give you and your thugs permission to steal a smoked chicken from my bag? I go out and find food for everyone, and this is how I'm rewarded! I figured I'd better do what was in my own best interests. Anyways, the more men you have, the more likely it is that we'll succeed. so I don't know why you're complaining!" With that, Rudgar shrugged his shoulders and sat down on a log.

Lotar grimaced, "Boy, believe me! I know nothing about any chicken. But I am responsible for the safety of this group. And the next time you do something like this, you need to talk with me first. Do that one more time and you'll be out on your ear!" At that point, Lotar turned and stalked off down the trail, presumably retreating to the privacy of his own tent.

Guthwine waited a moment for things to settle down and then pushed into the encampment with the scout following just behind him. The older man pushed forward without hesitation and bluntly addressed the group sitting by the fire, "I'm here from the Weather Hills with a dire message for Lotar. There's been a change in plans and I need to speak with him immediately." He looked up expectently to see who would respond and what attitude they would take.

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

[Arestevana]

Kirima sat huddled next to the fire. She drew her tattered cloak closer, attempting to drive off the chill brought on by the rain. There was a dreary feeling throughout the campsite, both from the cold, wet weather and from the violent shouting between Lotar and the chicken thief. Rudgar was now speaking, his voice loaded with contempt.

"Trust? How can I trust you and your pack of thieves? Did I give you and your thugs permission to steal a smoked chicken from my bag? I go out and find food for everyone, and this is how I'm rewarded!" He glanced accusingly at those seated by the fire. Kirima quickly looked away, feeling guilty.

The shouting continued for a moment, before Rudgar sat down angrily by the fire and Lotar stormed off to his tent. Kirima moved over to where Rudgar was sitting, speaking quietly before she lost her nerve. "I'm sorry, Rudgar. I was the one as stole the food. You won't find it. I sent it with the messenger from the Weather Hill. Please don't be mad at Lotar, he really didn't know what was going on."

She glanced at Rudgar, expecting him to be angry with her. There was no time for her to hear his response, however, for at that moment two strangers burst into the clearing. All of those seated at the fire looked up in surprise. The older man pushed forward and spoke to them. "I'm here from the Weather Hills with a dire message for Lothar," He said. "There's been a change in plans and I need to speak with him immediately."

Kirima stood up, relieved to have an excuse not to look at Rudgar. "Lotar will be in his tent. It is at the end of the path there," she added, pointing. "But I fear you may find him in an ill mood."

[ November 02, 2003: Message edited by: Arestevana ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar almost knocked his tent half down storming through the entrance.

'The nerve of that boy! Does he have no substance between his ears?! He could've hired anyone!!!'

He buried his fist in his bed roll to vent. He hoped Kandel wouldnt show up to cheer him this time. He really did not need that kind of help.

When he heard a rustle, he jerked around and yelled 'I warn ye Kandel! Leave me to my own devices! Blast any messenger that bothers me!!'

'Hmph. You always were to quick to anger. I knew you would'nt change Lotar'

Lotar took a while to reguster the voice, but once he got a clear view of the mans face, he balled his fist.

'Guthwine'

'Aye, it is me. I have news from Weathertop. And this time I hope it will go answered'

'Do not plague me now Guthwine, not now' he said lowly.

'I do not think your mood is of the greatest importance at a time like this. The people of Weathertop are dying waiting for your supplies Lotar. Bree must fall now, or else we have naught to fight for'

'And you think I do not know that! Blast ye Guthwine, ye take me for a simpleton! What is it you wish me to do? Waltz in there now unprepared and let them beat us down? I will not make such a foolish move! It must be planned. We need strength...'

'And that boy you yelled at for recruiting, is that your idea of strengthening?' Guthwine said with little effort. 'He may have had a band that could turn around your force here, and you threatened to out him! I think you need to control your temper and think this through'

Lotar stood up and stared Guthwine in the face 'Leave me man. I will discuss this with ye later. Go talk to the men and see for yourself' and he turned his back on the man and waited for him to leave.

[piosenniel]

Esgallhugwen's post

Lily hugged Berilac as he dropped her off at Poppy's front step. 'Bye Beril!' she waved happily popping the jaw breaker back into her mouth.

Poppy opened the front door smiling and greeting Berilac for bringing Little Lily home. He went down the step and turned the corner, just as he did Lily wanted to take Poppy's outreached hand 'now Lily look at your hands, there awefully sticky, have you been playing with that jawbreaker in your mouth' she laughed putting her hands on Lily's shoulders steering her inside the hole to the water basin.

'Here Lily wash up a bit and you can tell me about your day, ok?' Lily nodded busy with the soap bar in front of her. She started out telling her about how scared she was of all the new people especially the Big Folk's children. But with the help of the stone pendant she became brave and made friends with Kari, a Big Folk child, Poppy nodded aknowledging that lily was very brave indeed.

then the story seemed to turn for the worse when a group of the Big boys attacked some of the Hobbit children with pea shooters. Lily explained that she herself was hit in the ear, 'it stung really bad' she motioned to her ear 'but I was given a towle with some ice to make it better; Kari threw her chalk board at 'em hitting one right between the eyes' she giggled.

Poppy listened carefully with concern in her eyes, drying off Lily's little white hands.
Too bad some people behave like that towards ones that 'ave done nothing to them.

'Then we went outside to play and I was scared for a while because those boys might come back, but Kari protected me and we started to play...' she was about to take the jaw breaker out of her mouth again but Poppy stopped her insisting that she wouldn't want to get her nice clean hands all dirty again; Lily continued 'Berilac the Ranger needed help in finding holes in those hedges, and we all helped' she stated triumphantly.

All in all it had been an awefully exciting day, but Poppy was still concerned about those boys, she had heard rumors of them before. Perhaps she would have a word with Andreth tomorrow.

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

[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 ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac and the children at the Hedge

‘Boys always stick together, don’t they?’ Marigold Woodruff had stepped back from the ever smaller hole they had been working on for the past hour. It was her and Ella’s turn to hand the branches and pieces of scrap lumber to the boys, Mondy and Rollo. Early on, the boys had decided that they would be one team and the girls would be another. They would take turns – one team going into the hole to stuff it up with the materials; the other team feeding the materials to them.

Truth be told, Marigold enjoyed working with Ella. Marigold’s mother kept her close to home usually, and she hadn’t a chance to meet the Hobbits from the other side of the village. School and now this little project with the Ranger had widened her circle of acquaintances and hopefully friends.

Ella dragged the last of the branches to where the boys were standing just outside the now filled in hole. All four of the children laced it through the edges of the Hedge together.

‘We’re done!’ cried Mondy to Rollo, slapping the boy on the back. Rollo yelped in surprise and laughed out loud. ‘You pack a pretty good wallop for a . . .’

Berilac’s attention was drawn to the little group. Things had been going so well and he hoped that some ill thought words were not going to mar the day. He watched as Mondy stood in front of the boy, hands on hips, daring him to just say the word. Ella and Marigold also held their breath.

Rollo, unaware of the attention focused on him, laughed and gave Mondy a light push on the shoulder. ‘I say you’ve got a pretty good arm there for an eight year old!’

The boys’ attention was drawn to a small tree frog that clung to a small twig on the hedge. Rollo’s face lit up as one of his old jokes came to mind. ‘Hey, have you heard this one?’ he said to the little group, pointing out the frog. ‘Why did the frog cross the road?’

Ella and Marigold rolled their eyes at the old riddle. Mondy had never heard it before and scrunched his face up thinking about the answer. ‘Don’t tell me,’ he said. ‘I think I’ve almost got it . . .’ He tried out a few answers and was rewarded with shakes of the head from Rollo and giggles from the girls. When at last he gave up and Rollo gave the answer, his face clouded over for a moment then lightened with understanding. Slapping rollo on the back once more, he cried ‘Good one!’ Then, looking up hopefully at the older lad, asked, ‘Got any more?’

Berilac grinned at the crisis averted. Now if only the parents could get along so well!

[Arestevana]

Kirima halted her nervous pacing of the camp's perimeter as Kandel joined her. "Father is going to bring every ranger known to man here," he said, smirking. This echoed Kirima's earlier thoughts, but she felt that it would be rude to say so.

Kandel turned to her and spoke again. "I didn't get your opinion on the worth of these men. D'you think they will put up a good fight?" Kirima gave a small, rueful smile and sighed. "I don't know." She admitted. "Rudgar will vouch for them, if you ask him. But I don't feel I can trust any of them much. Though probably further than I could throw them." She added, laughing.

The smile did not last long. She shook her head, sighing, and continued. "Will they put up a good fight? When is a fight good? They may fight well, if that is what you mean, for they seem to have much skill and experience. But blood will be spilled on any account, whether they fight well or no." And she thought, 'We have reversed roles, all of us. We are the ones who attack, pillage, murder. And the Breelanders will take our place. When we take - if we take - the town, where will they go?'

Shaking herself out of the reflection, Kirima glanced up at Kandel. "I think these new recruits can fight. I don't trust them, I don't like them, but I think they will help us win the town."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

Guthwine paced back to the firepit and squatted down beside the stew pot, his face an impassive mask, as he portioned out bowls for the others and rose to pass them around the circle. Kirima and Kandel had slipped off to the side of camp to speak quietly by themselves. When Guthwine walked up and handed them the meal, the two curtly accepted the offering and, lowering their voices to a whisper, pulled off even further.

Guthwine could not make out the exact words the woman spoke but it was not hard to guess what was probably being said. He too was not pleased with the newcomers. They looked to be a scruffy lot. He wouldn't want to turn his back on them in a dark alleyway or give them free rein in the raids on the farms. with the latter thought in mind, he vowed to ride with the band tomorrow when they went out to raid the pigman's cot to make sure no one got too far out of hand.

But, given their desperate situation, what real choice did they have? At least these men could fight. Folk in Bree were unlikely to welcome them with open arms, even if they crept up to the city to make a plea on bended knee. He'd seen too many of his friends and kinfolk die in the Misty Mountains, and now there were hungry families in the Weather Hills who would not make it through unless they found a place to live. They'd just have to use whatever means was available to them, and worry about the right or wrong of it after they'd manged to bend the city to their will.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lotar stuck by himself, thinking and planning. The new recruits found places to set up their bedrolls on the far side of the clearing, a good distance from the others. Once or twice, Rudgar ambled over to check that the newcomers were settling in. But, other than that, there was little conversation between the two sides of camp. As evening came on, a full moon rose high into the heavens and a lonely wolf howled on a distant hillside. The band would not be going out until close to midnight, the time when the Breelanders should be deep in sleep and the moon would reach its zenith in the sky. A number of the men settled down on the forest floor to catch a few hours of sleep, some dreaming of treasure gained at the point of a sword, while others pined for absent kin and remembered homes turned inside out.

[ November 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Orofaniel]

Rosie

The tea was ready, and the home baked cookies as well. She found her basket and placed everything in it, with nice clothing on the top. It had been a busy day indeed. First she had followed Fippi and the other children to school, together with Poppy. Then she had come home and made Hedgar a nice cup of tea before he went to work at the Hedge. Then afterwards she had started to make cookies that she would bring to the workers now.

She took the basket and went.

~*~

When she reached the hedge she saw all those children and men working together. It was a very nice sight, Rosie thought. Rosie was also very proud that her husband had volunteered for this. And there was her son, Fippi, dragging a branch in the other direction.

"Rosie!" Hedgar said when he saw her coming. "Hello dear," she said and smiled. Berilac came over and welcomed her to the hedge. Rosie gave a short laugh and handed the Hobbit Ranger a cookie. "I've brought hot tea, and home baked cookies for everyone," Rosie announced. She had just finished and there were already children running towards her. Rosie laughed again, one of those merry laughers of hers. "Here you go..." Rosie said and handed the children cookies.

Then afterwards she served them tea. "Can I have some tea as well?" A boy asked Rosie. Rosie had unfortunately overlooked the boy before and felt her heart leap as she heard his voice. "Of course you can, dear." She said and poured the boy some tea. "What's your name?" She asked him when she handed him the small cup.

"My name is Edmund," he said and sipped the tea. "Oh, so you're Edmund!" Rosie said and smiled. The boy nodded. "You want a cookie too?" Rosie said as the boy took another sip. "Yes, please.” The boy said as his eyes lightened up. He smiled and took a big bite of the cookie.

Suddenly Rosie saw something. "What's that Edmund?" Rosie asked curiously. "That's my squirrel..."Edmund replied. "He is injured, so I'm watching over him until he fells better." the boy added. "Oh, that's very nice of you," Rosie said and smiled.

Rosie didn't notice that Fippi came from behind and gave her a big hug. "Mum," He said. "Yes, darling, what is it?" Rosie said ad turned. "Look what we've done..." Fippi said, and pointed at one of the holes. "Oh...That's a really great job you've done. All of you. "Rosie said, looking in the direction Fippi was pointing.

"Have some tea and cookies," Rosie said and found her basket. When she had given Fippi a cup and a cookie, she offered the others a second round.

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

[Child of the 7th Age]

Child's narrative post

The men who'd laid down to catch a few moments of rest groggily pulled themselves awake as the deepest hour of night drew near. They lay shivering in their bedrolls, seemingly hesitent to arise, as the autumn wind buffetted the few leaves that still clung limply to the trees. There was a broad undercurrent of tension and confusion pulsing through the camp; men sat up and covered their faces in shame, struggling to overcome the grim images of death and doom that Lorien had deposited in their hearts during the brief rest they had taken.

Still, Lotar kept to himself and did not appear to tell the band that it was time to depart. Men waited impatinetly, pacing about in circles or irritably quarrelling over trifles, eager for the moment to arrive when they could at last venture out under cover of darkness and force the complacent Breelanders to coil back in fear.

By midnight, a storm had blown in from the Barrow-downs, carrying with it a cold drenching rain that soaked everyone to the bone. Tempers ran short as the men polished their weapons and repacked their gear, eager for the hour of departure. Finally, after what seemed like endless hours of waiting, Lotar came storming over to the firepit and began to speak....

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

Tara's Post for Lotar

Lotar stretched out his shoulders from being hunched for a good few hours. Staring the map down again, he nodded and took it out with him to the clearing.

The only people within earshot there were Soran and Guthwine, but he knew his words would be heard through the camp. It was silent as the grave that night.

'Allright! The plan is set! Thanks to Gareth, we know that this farm is unprotected on the outskirts of the town, almost backing onto forest. So this is how we shall attack'

'Two groups, one headed by myself, the other by Guthwine and Soran, will attack. My group from the roads, Soran's from the trees. You are not to be there dallying! This is a snatch and grab! Once you have what you came fer, you dissolve into the trees'

'There is to be no uneccessary actions, and you follow all orders given by your leaders, no questions asked! I have no problems in raking you over the coals meself if you say one words thats not straight. Is all understood?'

Kandel appeared beside his father 'I am supposing I will stay here?'

'Aye. We need someone reliable to stay here. You'll take with ye a few of our original people. I dont want that new group split up'

Kandel looked a little annoyed, but did not argue.

Lotar turned his attention back to the now forming group

'Well, are ye all ready?'

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

Child's narrative post

An answering cry split the night as the men thundered out a roar of approval, lifting up their arms and brandishing swords and daggers. They quickly formed up in two groups, some on foot and others mounted, beginning the silent trek southward from the outskirts of Chetwood to the tiny hamlet of Staddle.

[ November 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Chathol-linn]

The Mayor inspects the Hedge repairs

“What news?” said Harald to the Captain of Guards. They were walking toward the gate and the Hedge, where the Hobbits had labored under Berilac’s guidance.

“The whole town knows you rounded up the older boys and gave them an ultimatum. Except Farroweed of course. And now the miscreants are helping us with a will.“

“May they help as much as the Hobbits! Look at the improvement.” Harald waved to the Hobbit Ranger. “Berilac! When this is over we shall be in your debt.”

Berilac said something about the credit not being his. He called the Hobbit workers forward.

Harald started to speak. Then he realized he towered over them like a tree, and he cared for once. Kneeling brought him to their eye level. He thanked each adult and child and shook their hands.

The Hobbit leader said, “Say that we finish plugging all the holes in the Hedge. What then?”

“I have been thinking of our resources. Even with your good help, we Breelanders are spread all to thin. Our lads and lasses are coming to deepen the ditch. But the bandits may start raiding the farms at any time, and then we are lost. We are too few to hold the countryside, and if the farms fall, so will the town, alas. But I have been thinking of a plan. Sit with me here on the ground.”

Seated, their height meant nothing, Harald noted. Perhaps it meant nothing all the time. “Speak to no one of this but members of the town council,” he said. “We must assume the bandits outnumber us. Instead of spreading ourselves thin, what if we all stuck together in the town and lured them in? We could leave a weak place of our choosing and be waiting. Maybe a gate.”

“How could we lure them in?” asked Telien.

“We must have Minastan bring them to the point we choose. He can tell them he knows a secret way in, or that we have a food storehouse, or what he wills. When they come we will be perched high on building tops, and in trees.”

Berilac liked that idea – Big or Little would make no difference high up.

“We will have weapons and torches, but better, we shall have a net of ropes. The frailest gaffers and gammers can tie rope. And we will have a secret ring of people all around, with a fence of ropes and poles like a noose. It takes little training to hold a pole and a rope.”

“Our archers can disarm them – we’ll aim for their weapons,” said Telien. “Then we drop the nets and hold them under guard.”

“And talk sense to them, I hope,” said Harald.

Berilac cleared his throat. This was the first time he had talked serious council to the Mayor. He said “We Hobbits make good archers. But how can we let Minastan know our plan?”

Harald grinned. “He has a wolfhound that sleeps in Dantha’s barn when Minastan is away.” He pointed to the red handkerchief about his neck. “We will put a note inside this scarf, tie it around the dog, and put the dog on Minastan’s trail. Nothing hunts a trail like a good wolfhound.”

The Hobbit Ranger and the Captain of Guards nodded, thinking of the difficulty of defending the outlying farms. The three sat together for a while longer, having their war council. Face to face.

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

[piosenniel]

Berilac, the Mayor, and the Captain of the Guard

The Captain of the Guard and the Mayor! This was a hopeful sign. It reminded him of the weekly counsels at the Ranger’s fastness – Men and Hobbits sitting down together to share tidings and to plan strategies.

Berilac volunteered to organize the Hobbit archers. Many, he knew, both male and female, would have little hunting bows. And since the family larder depended on what small game could be brought in, he knew they could use them with deadly accuracy. He asked Telien if perhaps four of his archers would stand with him, their longbows adding strength to his own and weight to the argument that the captured ruffians should surrender.

‘I like your idea about the oldsters making the net.’ Berilac’s brow beetled in concentration. ‘That room at the Town Hall – the one where the folk from the outlying farms slept that night of the meeting. Let’s get the gaffers and gammers together in there, push a couple of the long tables together in the center to form a working surface, and we can have them work in shifts – taking over when one gets tired. I should think that once we have the rope and the knotters together, it should take only a day or day and a half for them to complete a sizable net.’

They talked a little further of where they should have them enter. Berilac remembered Kali’s treasure hole, and offered it up as a suggestion. Using his finger, he drew the arc of the hedge in the dirt, so that it faced the other two. ‘Being realistic,’ he said, ‘the ruffians probably already have watchers set on Bree who report our activities as far as they can see them. They must know by now that we have started repair on the hedge and have started down here on its southern edge.’ He pointed to a section of the hedge between the North Gate and the wall of the Hill. ‘This is where one of the children pointed out a large hole, a place actually where the hedge meets the hill. And here,’ he said, pointing to a place nearer the gate . . . I’ve just remembered. It’s a gaping rent where that Farroweed boy crashed a cart one day. If we use these two, we can also position archers on this ledge along the hill line to prevent any escaping back through the hole, as well as on the building tops inside the town.’ Harald and Telien nodded their heads at this suggestion. I’ll hasten the lads who’ve volunteered to fix the North Gate itself, two of the Hobbit families atop the hill. We can get that done and secured, then look as if we’re moving the repairs southward along the hedge to meet those coming north. It will look as if we mean to leave those repairs at the far north until last . . .’

Harald agreed to write the note for Minastan and see that the note was set off. ‘We do need to think further when we might want him to lead them here . . . in a few days, do you think? The ruffians seem quiet enough at the moment.’

Their talk turned to logistics of getting the outlying families into town. Berilac offered to speak with his brother and brothers-in-law; he was sure they could convince the Hobbit folk to come in. ‘Again,’ he said, ‘we’ll need to decide how soon this should be done.’ He left the problem of convincing the Big Folk in the outlying settlements to the good graces of the Mayor and his Captain.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

All call it a day and head home

Their talk was interrupted by the approach of one of the Hobbit men. ‘Begging your pardon, Berilac, but we should be getting home now. The wives will be waiting on us, and there are some chores of our own to be seen to.’

Berilac stood, wiping his dusty hands on the thighs of his breeches and shook the Hobbit’s hand. ‘Of course, of course! Sorry to have kept you so long! On your way home,’ he asked, walking over to where the other men stood, ‘would you see some of the children safely to their doors?’ There was a general nodding of heads, as the Hobbits sorted out who lived near whom. He turned and spoke briefly to the Mayor and Telien, saying that perhaps they might speak again tomorrow and solidify their plans. They waved to the assorted workers as they left the site, and Harald called out his thanks once more.

Mausi’s children were going to their home with Berilac. And Edmund was included in the group, as the Ranger wanted to keep his eye on him until he was delivered to his mother. The boy had done remarkably well today, he thought, but still he felt the obligation to personally see him home. And besides that, he wanted to take him past the Comfrey’s place. He wanted Everard to show him his own menagerie of animals on the mend.

Everard had just gathered Pearl and Hamson to him, their steps heading toward the path that led to the top of Bree Hill. ‘Hold up, Everard,’ cried Berilac, herding Kali, Mondy, Ella and Edmund before him. ‘Let us walk along with you. I’ve someone here who might be interested in your animals. He has some talent himself in fixing them up when they’re injured.’ Berilac nodded at Edmund, whose little squirrel sat on his shoulder.

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

Late that night

The children and Mausi had all gone to bed. Berilac pulled the rocker close to the banked fire, and let the subdued heat from it warm his toes. It had been a long day . . . though a good one, he thought. Repair work was going well; the Mayor had the beginnings of a plan for defense. Berilac rested his head back against the chair, his thoughts flying out to his own little family. Fairlight and sweet little Alyssum - So far away. He smiled, thinking that soon there would a new little bairn held in the arms of his dear little wife.

If all went as smoothly as it had so far, he hoped to be heading home soon. He sighed, closing his eyes in the growing darkness of the parlour, the slow rhythm of the rocker lulling him to sleep . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth and Lilac:

Locking the common room and outside gate and then bidding good evening to the live-in maids who were scurrying off towards their bedchambers, Andreth pocketed the great iron key in her nightdress and hastily retreated to the family's private parlor. The Innkeeper sat huddled on a bench underneath the window listening to the wild winds and rain that now lashed unceasingly against the outer walls of the Pony. Gradually willing herself to relax, she turned her attention to the immediate task at hand, combing out her bobbing red curls and tying them back with a ribbon in preparation for retiring to bed.

As she did so, her mind drifted restlessly over the happenings of the past few days. Much had been accomplished. The burgeoning friendship between the two groups of children was evident both in the small dame school that she had founded and Berilac's project to rebuild the damaged hedge. Even Edmund was coming around. The hobbit ranger had explained how, that very afternoon, her own son and Kali had at least begun talking and seemed to share a certain fondness for animals.

Yet there was still much to be done. The task of gathering in the bounty from the farms had barely gotten under way. She hadn't been able to speak with Mayor Harald but Griffo and Tom had brought disturbing news earlier that evening. Some of the mannish farmers whose cots lay north of Bree not far from Staddle were reluctant to cooperate with the hobbits. One or two had even chased Griffo and his companions off their property with a string of invective and curses. Rumors circulating in the streets suggested that Tom Farroweed was responsible for this, speaking openly to anyone who would listen with the intention of arousing resentment against any plans calling for cooperative effort between the Big and Little Folk. Someone would have to devise a plan to counter this malicious gossip.

Andreth stood up and snuffed out the candle, pacing through the corridor to her own bedchamber when, much to her surprise, she heard a clanging noise from the front stoop where someone was pulling down insistently on the bell chain. Andreth glanced up puzzled since the great gates of Bree, now sturdily reinforced and carefully guarded, had already been secured for the night. Few would be out in weather like this unless some great necessity tugged at their sleeve. Suddenly, an insistent thumping was heard at the front of the Inn as if someone was whacking the door with a hearty stick.

Clutching a heavy candelabra overhead in her right hand, she hurried to the front gate. Bandits or not, she was Innkeeper of the Pony; the Inn would not turn anyone away in the midst of a storm. She peered out the front window into the inky blackness of the night and was just able to make out the hazy form of Lilac Greenhedge battering against the door with her sturdy cane. Andreth ran over and unlatched the gate, pulling an exhausted and bedraggled Lilac inside and immediately setting her in a chair close to the hearth to help drive the chill away. Then she ran over to the stables and, waking Ban, asked him to bed Lilac's horse in one of the stalls and pull the cart under the roof overhang where it would at least be sheltered from the worst of the downpour.

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

The two women sat side-by-side sipping steaming cups of apple cider that Andreth had warmed in a pot over the hearth in her own bedchamber. The Innkeeper gazed at Lilac and vigorously shook her head, "I'll have no such talk. Of course, you're staying here. We have plenty of beds and warm food. Hopefully, by morning, things will calm down. Then, you can go home."

While the women conversed, there were omenous rumblings from outside the Inn, as thunderclouds boomed out their warning and the sky gleemed with periodic bursts of light. "I'd rather be home now," Lilac protested. "My cat will be hungry and hiding under the bed with all this nasty weather. But I suppose you're right. It's no time to be outside battling a storm."

"Certainly not!" Andreth heartily agreed and then peered intently at the older woman. No one knew when Lilac had been born but she was still hail and hearty and very stubborn, going her own way most of the time and asking for help from few. Still, what was Lilac doing out on a night as grim as this?

"If you don't mind me asking...."

"I do mind!" came the sharp retort. "But I suppose I may as well tell you. I hitched up Strawberry and drove out this morning into the Chetwood hoping to find that encampment to see if there was anything I could do to help."

Andreth's mouth fell open as she took in the meaning of her friend's words. "Lilac Greenhedge, have you lost your mind? What if you had actually found those men? You would have been robbed or maybe skewered in two."

"Robbed?" the old woman chuckled. "The only thing I have worth stealing is Strawberry. And she would run home at the first chance she had. Anyways, I aimed to bring them a piece of good news..."

"And what good news would that be?"

Lilac's answer came in a hesitent, gentle voice, "That they don't have to be afraid of us. That we can live together. There's enough room on the hills around Bree for them to come and settle here and help us build the town."

Andreth's face went taut and white as she listened to Lilac's words. "How could you ever say that? They're bandits. The same kind of people who killed my husband. Why would we ever want folk like that?"

"You're so sure, Andreth Woolthistle! Well, I've lived a few years longer than you, and I'm not so sure. Maybe all these folks want is a place to settle down. From what I understand, they lost their homes to maruaders in the mountains. Everyone is so busy fixing hedges and strengthening gates and preparing for battle that no one can even take one minute to go sit down with them and talk."

"You're talking nonsense," Andreth objected. "If you came within a mile of these folk, they'd shoot you through with arrows. That is, after they stole everything you had."

"Maybe it is nonsense," Lilac sighed. "The Mayor thought so too when I spoke with him." The woman sounded wistful. "Maybe it is just the whisperings of a sad heart that has lived too long and seen too many folk suffer. But, mark my words, this will come at a price! There will be folk hurt and dying on both sides. From what I hear, these aren't just men; they are a small band preparing the way for a larger group with women and children. How would you feel seeing a child die?"

Lilac glared intently at Andreth, her eyes shaded in grief as she pled her cause. "We still have a chance to stop this, Andreth...you and I. If someone spoke up and made the others listen.... One last chance before things get so far out of control that there'll be no going back."

Andreth stopped for a moment and listened to the beating of the rain. She stared out into the blackness of the night and shook her head, "Maybe you are right. I don't know. And it would tear my heart to see a little one die. But things have gone too far for me to turn back, and the others feel that way as well. I must defend my home and child, or I will end up the one without a place to call my own. Even the hobbits feel that way."

Lilac turned away and lowered her head, staring at the golden embers that still smouldered in the bottom of the grate. One more instant and the embers had crumbled, turning into dull grey ash. The chance had slipped away.

For a single instant, Andreth lingered and lovingly placed her hand on top of Lilac's tousled silver curls; then, she slipped out the door into the corridor, leaving the older woman to her own bed and room. For some reason, once she stepped into the grey shadows of the hallway, her eyes began to fill with tears. She whispered fiercely to herself, "I'm sorry, Lilac. For me, there is no other way. Yet that mother who lost her home and village.....perhaps, she feels that way too....."

She forcibly pushed the thought out of her mind and went alone to her study where she kept a bedroll for such emergencies, all the while grieving for the soft warmth and comfort that her husband Bergil had once brought into her home.

[ November 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Why won't that fool down there go to sleep? We've been out here for hours, thought Soran irritably. He was crouched in cold misery under the dubious shelter of a spreading tree. Guthwine crouched not three yards away, waiting for the lights in the house below to go out and signal that the occupants had retired and the raid could begin.

Besides being uncomfortable physically, Soran was suffering from a last-minute crisis of conscience. He couldn't help thinking that, but for certain unhappy circumstances, the farmer down there could easily have been him. Yes, Lotar was a friend, but what if this man had lived in their village, and Soran here? Their positions were so easily reversed. . .

"Stop woolgathering," Guthwine whispered, tapping Soran on the shoulder. "The last light is out. Let's get going."

Soran nodded, not wanting to make any more noise than necessary. Let's get going so we can get through with this the sooner. He rose to his feet, wincing as joints popped and creaked. After I have a house again, I am never sitting in the rain for hours again.

As soon as the two bandits Lotar had placed in charge started, the rest of the men did too. Soran didn't particularly care for turning his back on them, but there really wasn't a great deal of choice in the matter.

The full force of the driving rain hit the group as they left the shelter of the trees, and Soran wished briefly that they could put this off for, oh, a few months. Like until summer. But they needed shelter immediately, and comfort would be the least of their worries when winter fully came upon them.

[ November 21, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar moved from the shadows as he saw the lone bandit messenger bolt towards him. Raising a single hand, his group moved down the road, and were in full sprint before they reached the farm.

Soran's group was there allready. Few yells could be heard from inside. That group had headed for the interior, so his would take care of all the things outside.

Rasping a whisper to his group he said 'Were after supplies in the farm house! Tools, food, and anything of good worth! Go!'

The findings were ood enough. Just like Gareth had said, there were strung meats a plenty, and this would last them a long time. He watched quietly as the men filled sacks. He then looked about for any other things, weapons, or tools that could be used. After rummaging a little while, he saw that nothing he could take would be of any worth, and he waved to his group to set out. They paused for a moment, and Lotar was about to bellow when he picked up their apprehension.

'Whats that sound! What in blazes is Guthwine doing!!' he hissed...

~*~

Kandel

"I think these new recruits can fight. I don't trust them, I don't like them, but I think they will help us win the town."

Kandel listened as Kirima voiced her opinions, but before he opened his mouth, he heard his father begin to organise the raid.

'I'll go see what is going on. I'll come back andlet you know' he said and disappeared behind a tent.

He wasnt all that surprised that his father did not want him there. He did not doubt his father had a fatherly instinct, though it still irked him.

Moving back to his sentry duty, he said with a small smile

'Well, we will be the guards of the camp while they are away collecting spoils!'

He turned his face up to feel small raindrops on his cheeks. 'Hmm...I dont think I envy them, with the weather coming in'

Sitting down beside Kirima, he noticed the expression on her face.

'You wonder why I can stay this calm? You wonder why it doesnt bother me hmm?'

~*~

[ November 21, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

As blind fury took hold, Lotar glared over at the retreating figure of Guthwine who had intentionally defied his earlier order to pull back and leave the inner rooms of the farmhouse and the family's sleeping chambers untouched. It was too risky an undertaking, and he had no wish to face the angry herder and his sons, armed with pitchforks and heavy skillets. Anyways, he reasoned, they'd gotten what they came for -- a good haul of smoked meats and serviceable tools along with a dozen chickens and a litter of suckling pigs now hauled off kicking and mewling inside several large sacks. Two of the men had even managed to corral a huge grunting boar and a pair of sows and, by merciless prodding with long sharpened sticks, herded the pigs out into the black storm towards a small cart that rested some distance away under cover of a wooded grove. The only casualties in the raid were the farmer's faithful guard dogs who both lay on the ground, whimpering piteously with their backs and legs askew and a gash along the throat made by a thrust from Gareth's dagger.

Guthwine greeted Lotar's howl of indignation and his order to turn back with outright scorn. With a mob of new recruits chasing at his heels, he shut out the unwelcome words as further proof of Lotar's cowardice and lunged forward to the main door that led to the family's living quarters. One of the new recruits took his axe to the wood and smashed it in. The door tottered under the assault and finally heaved back on its hinges, with splintered shards of wood flying off in all directions. Within an instant, the band had pushed inside with the men pillaging and destroying everything they could set their hands on.

Dishes went crashing to the ground: pillows and mattresses slashed open as goose feathers spun through the air and the bandits made short work of the family's living area. Guthwine ignored the looting, and focused on locating the Breelander who owned this farmstead. Whatever valuables the family possessed would probably be with the farmer. The family must be hidden or was attempting to flee, just as his own villagers had done months before in the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

Guthwine mounted a small ladder that led upward to a croft filled with hay and a few tumbled bedrolls, evidently belonging to the farmer's children. At the far end of the loft was a window overlooking a twisted apple tree standing so close to the house that its branches actually scraped against the outer stone. There were puddles on the floor, since the shutter had been thrust back and the rain pelted sideways through the opening.

For one instant, there was complete silence. Then the sobbing of a child broke through, and a half hidden form of a small maid crouched lower in the hay vainly attempting to shield herself. Guthwine went over and yanked up the trembling body, holding it by the collar. "I'll do you no harm, lass, but where is your father?"

One by one, hazy forms emerged from underneath the hay, all but the two eldest sons who had already made their escape through the open casement. Guthwine dropped the girl and turned around holding his sword as he advanced towards the farmer who still clutched an old metal box to his body, "I'll not harm ye or your kin," Guthwine growled to the cowering man, "but we have need of that. Turn over the box...now! Or I swear I will split your head."

Without hesitation, Tom hurled the metal container to the ground and retreated to the far side of the croft, his body shaking and face stricken. His wife came over and stood directly in front of him, cradling his head between her hands, her own body trembling and wracked with fear.

There was a welcome jangle of coins as Guthwine swept up the box from the floor in his free hand and then backed away, retreating to the ladder. But before he could set his foot on the top rung, Gareth came barrelling up from the floor below, stepping into the loft with a broad grin etched on his face and his daggers cocked forward, pointing towards the farmer and his wife huddled in the corner.

Guthwine bellowed out a protest, "Enough! There's no more to be had here! Get back to the others!"

His own face a mask of rage, Gareth clenched the daggers by the hilt and, for a moment, seemed ready to cast them at the couple, disregarding the order that he had been given. Guthwine instantaneously pitched his body forward, hitting Gareth squarely in the chest and propelling him through the opening where the ladder had been propped. The ladder crashed backwards, as both men hurtled to the ground and landed with a thud, the cash box tumbling down after them, thankfully unopened, just a few paces away.

Guthwine pulled himself upright and bellowed at the looters, "Alright, we're done. Back to camp and fast!" He headed out the door followed by a string of men loaded down with the personal possessions of the family. The two rooms they left were in a complete shambles with furniture overturned and belongings sprawled out everywhere in complete confusion. A small doll lay on the window ledge, its head and feet detached. Guthwine came roaring out, triumphantly holding up the coin box. He caught the disapproving eyes of Lotar; Eruantalon stood by his leader's side....

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

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran did his share of plundering, but he started to feel just a bit sick by the time Guthwine went into the house. The sheer wanton destruction practiced by the recruits was overwhelming.

I thought we were just after supplies, he thought dazedly as one of the recruits smashed a barrel of corn that was too big to easily carry away, laughing while the hard-earned kernels spilt into the mud and were trampled into uselessness.

"Here you, stop that!" Soran began to shout. The ruffian only laughed harder and went on to another barrel. The old ex-farmer stood aghast for a moment, silently raving against the reckless waste. Had the fool any idea how much work it was to produce that much grain?

Another barrel was struck, spilling its precious contents. Soran winced. Apparently he hadn't.

Soran hefted a couple hams to his shoulders and began to run back to the woods, away from the reminders of what he had become. It didn't work out quite the way he'd intended.

Befor his eyes had quite adjusted to the darkness, he heard a yell, the tinkle of breaking glass, and the wet crash of something heavy hitting the muddy ground. Then his left boot caught on whatever it was, he dropped the hams to try to catch his balance and felt himself fly through the air. His eyes finally adjusted in time to see the large rock towards which he was hurtling.

Oh, damn!

[ November 23, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[piosenniel]

The Farroweeds

At the urging of their mother, two of the older Farroweed boys had gone silently out the opening to the hay loft. ‘Bring help,’ she whispered to them, the sounds of heavy footsteps just starting up the ladder. They crept to the door and went quickly down the pulley rope.

‘Shall we split up?’ the younger boy asked his brother. ‘Not yet,’ the other replied. ‘Stick close by me and in the shadows until we’re well past these ruffians.’ He pulled his brother close to him as they crept to the far edge of the little farm. The noise of the raid grew dimmer as they slipped in among the trees. ‘You go to Farmer Thistle’s place,’ the older one said in a whisper, keeping his hearing tuned for any suspicious sounds. ‘I’ll go over to the Rushy’s place.’ The younger boy frowned at his brother. ‘The Thistles? Da said we weren’t to have nothing to do with those Little Folk.’ The older boy grabbed his brother by the front of his nightshirt. ‘Well, it’s Ma that’s sent us for help, isn’t it, and the Thistles are the closest. Farmer Thistle’s got six strong sons. We’ll need them all if we’re to run off the men.’ He pushed his brother down the dirt path to the Hobbits’ burrow. ‘Now hurry!’

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

Letty Farroweed had watched the scene unfold with wide eyes. Her face was pale, and she clung onto her husband tightly as Guthwine threatened her child. A small measure of relief eased her terror as Big Tom threw the cashbox to the bandit. For one brief moment it looked as if that might satisfy these demons that had sprung on them in the night. The feeling of terror, replaced by a small flicker of hope, began to recede.

And then she saw the face of the man who entered the loft, his daggers pointed at her and Big Tom. Again there was fear . . . but beneath it was a growing anger. This was the man her husband had brought into their house! She barely heard the commands by Guthwine or took note of the struggle between them. A cold, icy feeling crept over her, and she stepped away from her husband, gathering the remaining children to her.

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

Despite the fact that they had taken more plunder than they could quickly be away with, the bandits continued to plunder and pillage the small holding. Caught up in the fury of the assault, they wreaked havoc on what they could not carry away in their arms. The garden was trampled through, the pig pens kicked apart and the pigs left to run squealing from the noise and the flying timber.

Several of them had broken out the windows in the house and were throwing things out the window. Their mates below had pushed the objects into a pile, and one of them had lit a chair leg from the fireplace inside the house, preparing to set the heap alight. He grinned wickedly, the fire of his torch lighting up his features in a ghastly way.

He dropped the torch with a yelp as an arrow hit his hand. His companions, too, began to yell, as a barrage of missiles hit them. Arrows from the little hunting bows of four of the Thistle lads along with the sharp rocks from the Father and his youngest son flew wildly into their midst. The Rushy’s had come just after the Thistles, bearing cudgels and staves and yelling loudly at the louts to give way. They were big, burly farmers, the lot of them, and they made an imposing image as they charged toward the bandits.

Guthwine called a retreat, shouting at the bandits to get out. It was no use fighting for something they couldn’t hold onto, and he had other plans for them.

It was Farmer Thistle who sought out the rest of the Farroweed family. He saw Big Tom’s face in the hay window and waved him to come down, shouting that it was safe now. Big Tom’s face was unreadable in the shadows cast by the door frame. But Letty looked out, when she heard the Hobbit’s voice, and nodded at him.

She turned away from the hay door and herded the children to the ladder. Big Tom called her back, saying they couldn’t trust the words of one of those Little Folk. For all they knew he and his kind were in league with the bandits. Letty looked at him with unmasked disgust. ‘It’s you that can’t be trusted, you fool! It’s you that led that man to our home. And you that showed him all about. And all for the sake of your stupid, stupid pride.’ She was shaking with anger as she faced her husband, the children wide-eyed behind her. ‘You and your self-serving pride – you almost had us murdered in our beds.’ She shook her finger at him as he came toward her. ‘You stay back, Tomsin Farroweed. You’ll not be talking me out of this one this time.’ She shooed the children down the ladder where Farmer Thistle and one of his sons now waited below. Letty climbed down after them, then rushed out into the yard to see where her other two sons were.

The oldest one had come back with the Rushy’s, and was just returning to the yard with the men, the bandits having been run off. ‘Where’s your brother?’ she asked frantically, seeing him nowhere. Farmer Thistle spoke up, her other children gathered round him. ‘He’s safe at my burrow, goodwife. I thought him too young to come back with us, and the wife is seeing to him. I’ll send one of the lads back to fetch him and a wagon. We can take you to one of your relations houses for the night.’

Letty thanked him, telling him they had no family close by. Farmer Thistle asked would she like to spend the night at his place then. She declined, knowing that her brood would burst the seams of his small place, and beside that, she did not feel safe out here. The bandits could hit another little farm she feared.

‘Well then,’ he said rubbing his jaw in thought. ‘We’ll take you into town. You can stay at the Inn, can’t you? Until you can sort all this out.’ Letty’s gaze drifted about the ruined house and yard. ‘Yes, the Inn,’ she said. ‘Safe behind the Gates of Bree.’

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

It was well after midnight when Farmer Thistle and his son delivered Letty and the children to the Prancing Pony. The Gatekeeper was reluctant to let the Hobbit in, but backed down when Letty accosted him with her angry words. Wild-eyed, her hair flying in the night breeze, she came at him like some terrible wraith; the moonlight catching the folds of her nightdress gave her a spectral look. At least for this night, she was having none of it when it came to men telling her what she could and couldn’t do or think.

A short time later, Farmer Thistle was banging on the door to the Inn. ‘Open up!’ he called in a loud voice to a window that had swing open above. ‘Open up! I’ve someone in need who’ll be wanting a safe bed for the night.’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth:

Andreth stirred and rolled over onto her side, drawing up her legs and hoisting the covers over her head in an effort to shut out the jangling noise that was floating up into her bedchamber from the front doorstep of the Pony. At the very edge of her mind, she was vaguely aware of someone standing outside the Inn pulling down repeatedly on the bell chain.

Andreth had tossed and turned after Lilac's departure, mulling over her stern words and admonitions, and wondering if she'd been too harsh in her attitudes towards the refugees; she had just barely managed to fall asleep. Now, once again, she was unexpectedly awakened. She sat up blearily in her bed, threw on a cloak, and padded down to the door, peering out the window to the porch.

This time, there were a whole host of newcomers. Farmer Thistle stood rapping with his stick against the door, with a woebegone Mistress Farroweed standing right beside him. Positioned just in back of them was a whole passel of the Farroweed children. To be truthful, Andreth was still not feeling charitably towards this particular family and for one split instant considered telling the entire group to go away and come back tomorrow morning. But Letty looked so openly distressed that even Andreth could not be angry for long.

The Innkeeper threw open the door and, after hearing the appalling series of events that Farmer Thistle outlined, she took Letty's hand in her own, giving it a little squeeze, and assured her that she and her children could stay as long as they needed. Rushing off to tell the servers to prepare the bedchamber, she grimly reflected on Lilac's visit. Whatever questions or hesitations she'd had earlier were gone. Folk who acted like this deserved every bad thing that would happen to them. The Innkeeper sat down for an instant to clear her head, and then decided on a plan of action...

[ 1:34 AM December 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Pio's post - Andreth sends Ban

Andreth woke Ban from his cot in the stable and instructed him to run to the Mayor’s house. ‘Tell him to come quickly,’ she told the wide-eyed young man. ‘He’ll want to know what’s happened. ‘Once you’ve gotten him, then run to Mausi Honeysuckle’s house. Berilac is staying there. Tell him what I’ve told you, and that we will wait for him to come.’
_____________________________________________

Chathol-linn's post - The Mayor sends Minastan a message, but is it too late?

Earlier that day . . .

“Farewell for now,” said Harald to his impromptu counselors Berilac and Telien. “If you get news, I will be at Dantha’s, and then I will take some rest.” He left them to discuss which four archers Telien could spare for the Hobbits and quickly came to Dantha’s house where she lived with her well-off aunt.

“Can you do it, sweeting?” he asked her. “Get the gammers and gaffers together first thing in the morning and get them to make rope netting.” He quickly explained the plan to lure bandits inside the town. “Here is the key to the Town Hall. Set them at tables, and give them my thanks for their help.”

Dantha smiled. “They don’t call Old Gammer ‘Netta’ for nothing,” she said. “She was the matriarch of a river family – before their freehold got raided. She’ll help and get the others to help too.”

“Ask them to be quick. Get as many hands as you can. Have you seen Willofain?”

“She is in the barn as usual. Wild one! Do you know, she reminds me of someone ….” But Harald was gone round the back and calling for the child.

“What is it?” said the girl, tousled with straw and needing a wash.

She needs a home more than a wash, thought Harald. Aloud he said, “Can you find Minastan’s wolfhound about?”

“He is here,” said Willofain. “What do you want with him?”

“I may not tell you that. You must run away now. What if some spy were to overhear?” He smiled and Willofain giggled as she skipped off, but Harald was only half in jest. From his pocket he produced a square of thick paper, very rare and belonging originally to Dantha’s well-off aunt. He had written the following message:

May the Powers That Be help us if this falls into bandit hands! Be warned that the Hedge is not as sound from the inside as it looks from the outside. Next to the North gate, that rent where Farroweed crashed the cart is still gaping. So is the conjunction of hill and hedge on that side. Should the bandits get wind of this by tomorrow night they could take the town, as we will lack vantage points for archers to loose their arrows.

Dantha laughed. “But Minastan knows the town layout better than anyone. No vantage points! He will think you have finally lost your mind!”

“No, he is smarter than that,” replied Harald, laughing also. “He will take my meaning, and no doubt think me the prince of mayors.”

“How will he know the message is from you?”

“I will wrap it in my red kerchief and tie it around the hound’s neck. Only Breelanders know it is mine.”

“And how will the hound know to look for Minastan?”

“By this!” With a flourish Harald produced a crumpled cap from his pocket. “Minastan was in such a hurry to go, he dropped his cap. When I called him back he did not answer! So I will save it for his return. Meanwhile, let us take the hound to where Minastan set off, let him get the scent from the cap, and send him on his way.”

They did this, and Dantha spoke to her aunt shortly after. By sundown, the aunt had coaxed some twenty of her older friends, including Netta, to gather at dawn’s light for tea, rope-making, and town saving. Harald headed home to catch some much-needed rest, thinking that Dantha’s company would have been better than the sweetest slumber.

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

Later that night . . .

In the middle of the night Harald lay sleeping with no other companion than the Seeress of Dreams. And what a good dream he got from her – Breeland was burgeoning with a great harvest, there was no such thing as bandits, and Dantha was at the door, asking him to –

“Open up, Mayor!” roared a voice. A fist hammered on his door.
_____________________________________________

Pio's post - Berilac

The Mayor was well on his way to the Inn when Ban arrived breathless at the Honeysuckle’s door. He pounded with all his might, yelling ‘Open up! Open up!’ Berilac, surprised from sleep by the harsh voice and the pounding jumped up from the rocker where he had been dozing by the small fire. Mausi and her children had come down from their rooms, their faces pale and filled with dread. ‘Stand well behind me,’ he ordered them, as he advanced toward the door, blade in the ready position. Mausi pushed her children back behind one of the stuffed chairs in the room and stood ready with her stout hickory-handled broom.

Berilac threw the door open and stepped to one side as a tall figure stumbled and tripped as the door gave way. ‘Don’t kill me, Master Berilac!’ squeaked Ban throwing his hands over his head as he lay sprawled on the floor. He felt the cold, sharp point of Beril’s blade withdraw slightly from the back of his neck, and felt the prodding of Miz Mausi’s broom on his shoulder. ‘It’s Ban,’ cried little Kali, who had sneaked up behind his mami’s skirts despite the pleas of his siblings.

At the sound of his name, Ban sat up on the floor, shaking his head to try and get his wits about him. ‘’What brings you in such haste?’ asked the Ranger, helping the pasty-faced young man to his feet and to a nearby chair. Ella ran to get him a cup of water as Mondy and Kali crowded up to him, plying him with questions.

‘Stand back, children,’ said Mausi, herding them a little ways away. ‘Give the poor lad room to breathe.’ Berilac watched Ban grip the cup of water hard as if it were an anchor for him in a mad world. Once the boy had drunk his share, he asked him once again why he had come.

Out poured the story of Farmer Thistle arriving at the Inn with the Farroweeds, minus Big Tom. And the story of the bandits and what they had done to the farm and what they had threatened. ‘Mistresss Andreth says you are to come right away, sir,’ he said to Berilac. ‘I’ve already wakened the Mayor and he is also bound for the Inn.’

Berilac pulled on his boots hastily and threw on his cloak. It was decided that Ban would stay with the Honeysuckles until the Ranger returned. He was tired and shaking from his mission, but Berilac told him he must stand in for him should there be an attack on the town. He was to keep the Honeysuckles safe. Ban nodded his head silently at this charge, and bade the Ranger fare well.

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

It was a quarter of an hour later when Berilac knocked on the door of the Inn and was ushered inside. The Mayor and Telien were already there, along with Andreth and Letty Farroweed. The children had been put to bed, or so he was told, though he could hear certain creaks on the stairs, and the rustle of night-clothes as stealthy steps drew near to listen.

‘So, I have heard from Ban that the bandits have attacked and pillaged a farm.’ Letty nodded numbly at this bare assessment of the terror that had come on her family just a few short hours ago. ‘Once they start this, their pattern has been to escalate their raids on the outlying parts of a settlement. Or so it has been in the little towns they have overrun on their way here.’

He looked at the Harald and Telien and nodded at Farmer Thistle and his son, who had been asked to stay for the meeting. ‘We will need to move more quickly now. The Men and Hobbits and their families will need to come into the safety of the city, or they will pick them off, one by one. And we need to push the repairs to the hedge and dike at a faster pace.’

‘How do you want to divide up who of us will do what?’

[ 1:04 AM December 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Chathol-linn]

Mayor Harald at the meeting


Harald felt his temper quicken. He did his mayoral best to hide it. He wanted to rage, to shout at Letty, “Your no-good husband and son brought this misfortune!” But he subdued his anger. The last thing this poor goodwife needed was another attack on what was hers.

“Whom do I want to do what?” Harald repeated, looking at the assembled Farmer Thistle and his boy, Berilac, Telien, Andreth, and Letty.

“We think too much of defense,” said Telien. “Once the people are inside the town, those outlying farms will be picked clean and then burnt. I wish there was a way for the farmers to send a signal – perhaps ringing the dinner bell – when the ruffians arrive, and then all the neighbors could hurry to fight them off. Bandits will go where the pickings are easy.”

Harald wished he could agree. It would be good to knock a few heads in return for the wreck of the Farroweed farm, not that he cared a whit about Tom.

“People would be hurt for sure,” he answered at last. “Running around in the dark, not knowing who you were hacking. “No,” he continued. “For now we will do this. No further work on the Hedge; it is as good as it needs to be. We will follow the plan I spoke of earlier, with the nets. Sturdy folk who know the risk, positioned to fling the ropes over any group of bandits who enter.”

Andreth looked worried, for her inn was near both gaps in the Hedge. But she said, “You may use my rooftop to position archers if you like.”

“Anyone looking up will see archers against the sky,” objected Telien.

“They won’t see Hobbits,” Harald said. “Berilac, will you get good archers up there? No hotheads!” Berilack nodded.

“And the dyke?” asked Farmer Thistle.

“We can either try to deepen it enough to delay entry, or … fill the ditch with pointed stakes. Remember the bully boys who attacked the school children? I ordered them to make stakes, and they have done so with a will. But it will not be pretty. What is your thinking? ” Harald asked, grim-faced. "Please speak quickly, for we also have the farmstuff to deal with, and the farmers to house."

[ 12:43 PM November 30, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

About the same time outside the farmhouse in the woods......


Tara's post for Lotar:

Lotar tried to make his expression put to what his words couldn't. Guthwine had let a pack of wolves into the farmhouse, who knew what they were doing!

'Alright! Into the trees all of ye!' he hissed at his own group, who had obediantly slinked away. He was glad he had his old troop under his command. Moving away, he began counting heads. Mentally he had always done this after a raid. He loathed leaving anyone behind.

It was then he realised there was one missing. Stopping dead in his tracks, he waited for Guthwine to move past him.

'Where is Soran?' he said to Guthwine evenly 'You had better know where he is...'

~*~

Child's post for Guthwine:

Guthwine turned on Lothar exploding with rage...."What am I?....A nanny to be set in charge of young children? I told the men to keep close. I went in and got the money box, which is what we needed the most. All the others managed to keep up. It was dark and storming. We could barely see our way. Soran likely encountered one of the farmer's sons who'd already slipped out of the house. There's no sense going back. They've taken him captive or worse."

Lotar growled back, "I'll not have him left behind...."

Guthwine's response was swift and cutting, "Have you gone daft, Lotar? The place is swarming with neighbors by now. I saw them running across the fields even as we left. You'll get all of us killed for the sake of one man who's fallen behind. I'll have no part of it." Guthwine's men, the recruits that Eruantalon had gathered, nodded their heads in agreement and planted their feet solidly in the muddy ground, unwilling to go back.....

[Taralphiel]

Lotar

His feet began to sink in the mud, and rain poured down his face and over his cloak, drenching him through. But through the rain he doubted anyone could fail to hear him.

'You are a cold and ruthless man Guthwine. You are indeed a soldier. But not all is about war! We are not animals! Though these rabble have made that statement less than clear!' he heaved a bit after this, and turned his back.

'See if you can manage to get everyone back to the camp. Im going to do the honourable thing!'

Running back towards the farm, all the calls of protests were drowned out by the storm. Leaning back against the farmhouse wall, he carefuly looked about around the corner.

There, slightly out of sight, was Soran. It looked like he had fallen. Not giving thought to caution, Lotar snuck past the open front door of the farmhouse, and bolted to the mans aid.

Lifting him carefully up, he muttered 'By Eru Soran, you worried me! Lets get you back to a warm cot'

Feeling his head tentatively, he looked at the angry trickle of blood on his fingers. He thanked the Gods SOran was not far from the shelter of the trees when he fell.

Kandel

Shifting position again, and stretching out his shoulders, Kandel peered through inky black. He hadnt said a word to Kirima for quite a few hours.

He was about to open his mouth when he heard the sounds of many running feet. Through the night came the troop of bandits, first from his original company, then the new recruits.

Scanning them, he saw no sign of his father. He did not waste time in pulling Guthwine aside.

'Where is Lotar!' he said lowly

'He is a fool' is all Guthwine muttered.

Balling his fist, Kandel set out into the trees to look for his father...

[ 4:37 AM December 01, 2003: Message edited by: Taralphiel ]

[Arestevana]

Kirima sat as close to the fire as she could, soaked through and chilled to the bone. She continually scanned the woods, though it was doubtful that anyone would be out in the storm. She was about to speak when the sound of people approaching reached her ears. Kandel stood up.

Rudgar and Guthwine ran into the clearing, followed by the new recruits. Scanning the crowd, Kirima realized that Lotar and Soran were missing. She saw Kandel walk over to Guthwine and speak to him. Then the younger man turned and headed out into the storm.

"Kandel!" Kirima jumped up and called after him, but the storm drowned out her words. "Be careful," she whispered miserably. She walked over to Guthwine. "How did it go?" she asked nervously. "Why are the others missing?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Guthwine scowled at Kirima. "That fool Lotar wouldn't listen to me. Soran managed to get himself lost. Now, the place is overun with hobbits and men, neighbors of the Farroweeds who are swarming over everything. Lotar should have known better but he insisted on going back himself. They'll be lucky to get out of there alive."

Guthwine turned and stared at Kirima, noting the shocked expression on the woman's face. He lowered his voice and spoke again, this time more gently, "Look, I know what you're thinking....that I'm hard hearted and ruthless....that I couldn't care less whether Soran lives or dies. But things aren't that easy. We have thirty scouts here, give or take a few, and I can't spare a single one if this plan to attack Bree is going to succeed."

"There are hundreds of hungry men, women, and children back in the Weather Hills. And this little group is the only thing that stands between them and starvation. If I lose one man out of thirty to an unfortunate accident in a raid, that's one thing. But if I lose a third of this group trying to go back and stage a valiant rescue, I may make it impossible for that larger group of men and women to survive."

"Kirima, if you want to do something that's worthwhile other than stare at me with a look of disgust, help get these men to load up carts that we stole from the farmers. They need to fill them with food. And they need to get going tonight, rain or no rain! That's the only way those folk will survive. Most of these new recruits I don't trust any more than you do, but Edgar and Tomba are decent men and they've agreed to get the carts through."

Guthwine took a step forward, staring off towards the carts, and muttered under his breath, "I swear I'd make a bargain with a passel of Orcs if I thought it would mean I could save those villagers."

When several of the new recruits began moaning that they were too tired to work any more, Guthwine went over and barked at them to get going. Reluctantly, they began to pack everything into the carts. Guthwine responded gruffly to Kirima, "We could use a woman's hand in organizing this mess. Are you just going to stand there shivering, or try and help us?" Then, Guthwine ran forward and began loading the supplies onto the back of the wagons.

[ 2:55 PM December 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Arestevana's post for Kirima:

Kirima hung her head, listening ashamedly to Guthwine. He was trying to help them, and she hadn't trusted him. She listened as Guthwine explained about the carts, and how they needed to be organized. "We could use a woman's hand in organizing this mess." he said. "Are you just going to stand there shivering, or try and help us?" He ran to begin loading one of the wagons.

Kirima ran to another wagon, thrilled that she could somehow help. She scooped up a basket of something--in the dark she could not see what it was--and moved to set it in the wagon. She realized that those who were loading were simply piling supplies into the wagons however they might fit. For a moment she considered ignoring it, but quickly changed her mind. If the wagons were going to the main camp, they should carry as much as they could, and space was being wasted.

Kirima hopped up into the wagon and began rearranging the supplies as quickly as she could, packing things together tightly. After a while, the others who were working to load the cart began handing bundles to her to load, rather than have her move them later. For a moment Kirima was taken aback, but she soon turned her mind to the task at hand, and fell to it with a will.

[ 12:02 AM December 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

As luck would have it, the rain began to slacken, making the men's job a bit easier. Once Guthwine saw that supplies were being gathered and Kirima had taken charge of ensuring that the provisions were correctly stowed in the wagons, he hastily retreated to his tent and, lighting a lantern, sat down at a table with a sheet of vellum and a quill pen in front of him. He wrote in the manner of a soldier, with words that were clear and unambiguous, leaving no question as to what he meant:

To the Elders of the Council in the Weather Hills,

Greetings!

As you decreed, we have begun our raids of neighboring farmhouses. We will continue to send wagons with supplies to you over the next few days. We will do this as long as we are able to outwit the local farmers. Use what you need, but be careful as you must set aside provisions for your journey.

Have the entire camp gather up their belongings and get ready for the march. Begin your westward trek no more than three days from the time that you receive this letter. Station the stronger men along the front, back, and sides of the column while placing the women and children inside to protect them.

The journey will not be easy. It is some seventy-five miles from where you are in the Weather Hills to our own encampment. With so many on foot, you can not make more than sixteen or seventeen miles a day. That would mean a journey of some four to five days.

The Breelanders understand that we mean to attack, but they do not know when. Try and maintain that illusion of surprise as long as possible. Avoid the Great East Road where you are sure to be seen. Travel north along the Weather Hills till the mid-point of the range and then cut across the open fields in a southwesterly direction, making sure to stay north of the Midgewater Marshes. That will bring you around to Chetwood where we are camped. That way is more strenuous but you are less likely to run into prying eyes until late in your trip.

I am instructing Tomba to remain at the Weather Hills and lead you back here as he knows exactly where we are. He and Edgar are two of our few trustworthy recruits. Most are not worth the ground they walk on, but what else can we do?

As to Lotar, he blows hot and cold--one minute hanging back from attacking the farms and the next rushing in to try and save someone he cares for at grave risk to his own life. He is no military leader but a good and brave man who heatily dislikes me. I hope he will make it back from his ill-advised rescue attempt in one piece. As much as he curses me, I would still rather have him at my side that be standing alone.

I must leave now. The wagons should be ready to pull out soon, and I must instruct the men that we will strike another farmstead tomorrow night.

Looking with longing towards Bree,

Guthwine

With that, the man set down his quill and folded the sheet over, walking out of his tent to find Tomba and learn if there was any news of Soran or Lotar.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:00 AM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac at the night meeting

‘Well, now,’ came the soft, slow voice of Farmer Thistle. ‘I don’t think those Men will attacking us any too soon.’ He opened the window near him just an inch, letting the sound of the down-pouring rain thunder into the room. ‘Mayhap we should slow just a little. I can get the Hobbits in the outlying farms to come in, but it will take a few days, three or four at least.’ He rubbed his chin while he thought, then looked at the Mayor. ‘Best you get one of the Men to get the other Men in. Oh, and one other thing – we’ll need a place to bring in our livestock – a few of us have Sheep, and there’ll be some pigs, and the hens of course.’

Berilac nodded his head as Farmer Thistle spoke. ‘My brothers-in-law, Griffo and Tomlin, will help you get word to the other Hobbits. And as I recall Griffo knows some of the Men farmers near him – he said he’d get them rallied.’ The Ranger turned to Harald. ‘The Hedge, I’m afraid, is not that far along. I know we were going to leave the north end open – but there is one more section that needs to be done before that. Give us two days and we can see it done.’

He spoke to Andreth next. ‘I think it will be enough to have the Hobbit men work the rest of the Hedge. If I remember correctly you had things that the children needed to be doing here – getting the supplies in order and inventoried. And to be honest, I don’t want to see them out in the damp and cold. We don’t need sick children on top of or other worries.’

‘I’m not so sure the bandits won’t strike again,’ Berilac went on, thinking more on what Farmer Thistle had said. ‘They’re getting desperate, I think. Let’s bring the folk in as quickly as we can from the outlying areas along with their valuables and their foodstuffs and stock. That will be another prompt for the bandits to want to make the attempt on Bree itself.’

Telien made the suggestion of an armed patrol or two in the countryside at night. ‘We should think on it,’ he said. He also spoke up about the staves in the ditch being a good idea, and Berilac seconded it. ‘It will be easy to set them deep into the ground thanks to the rain.’ Telien agreed, saying, that as Berilac’s hedge menders brought in boughs for the holes, perhaps they could bring in more than needed – if a light layer were put down over the staves in the ditch, the bandits would be unaware and some might be stopped that way.

Harald spoke up again saying he would see to getting the net done and have Telien scout for places for the archers. He would also see to the places they could allot to keep the livestock in.

‘Send messengers out about the town, too,’ suggested Berilac. ‘To let the folk know what will be happening in the next few days.’ He pulled his cloak back around him, preparing to leave.

Dawn was not far off, and there was much to get done that day. Farmer Thistle went to Mausi’s with Berilac and the others returned to their own beds for what little rest they could glean from the short night.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Soran lay unconscious by a large wooden beam, a gash in his forehead where it had struck a stone. He breathed shallowly, sending little puffs of fog skittering along the surface of the oozing mud. His eyes were closed, either in pain or simply in a reaction to the rain.

All was darkness and a feeling of floating. It was vaguely pleasant, certainly more peaceful than the actual situation. A rough voice intruded, worried and almost familiar.

"By Eru, Soran, you worried me! Let's get you back to a warm cot."

A rough and calloused pair of hands slid under his shoulders, turning him over and pulling him up. A low moan escaped as his rescuer draped his arm over his shoulder and began to stagger away from the raided farmhouse as quickly as possible.

They made little progress, as the mud stuck to their boots and Soran was still unconscious for all practical purposes. Both men were well soaked and liberally coated with sticky mud. Fortunately for them, Soran had been only a few yards from the edge of the forest when he fell.

They had just reached the shadows of the trees when Kandel found them. With his assistance, it was easier to carry the wounded man, though not a great deal. Their limping progress was slowed yet more once in the shelter of the trees. Mud and underbrush.

"Ooh, my head . . ." groaned Soran, startling the two men on either side of him. He squinted towards the man on the left, trying to recognize him through rain, dark, and pain-blurred vision. He was fairly certain that it was Lotar, but he couldn't be sure. The one on his right was younger, much younger, and if one was Lotar, the other was probably Kandel. He reached up and fingered the tender place on his head. His hand came away wet, and not from rain either.

"We're almost to camp. Think you can walk?"

Soran nodded and instantly regretted the motion. But the bedraggled trio pressed on, and soon saw the warm light of a fire ahead.

[ 11:30 PM December 03, 2003: Message edited by: Tinuviel of Denton ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie

The sun was about to rise and the darkness to disappear. The morning was to come and Rosie woke. Beside her was Hedgar, still fast asleep. Rosie got up, and dressed. She wore one of her green dresses that morning, the colour she liked best. There were bright flowers on the dress, and it reminded her of spring. The season she liked best of all seasons...

She huddled down to the kitchen in a hurry so that she could make food ready for her husband and for Fippi. "Oh No!" There was no flour left. How could she bake now? Without flour, no baking... Rosie thought and sighed.

Why had she forgotten to take some from the mills the day before? Rosie gave a second sigh. “Oh well, I guess I have to run out to the mills, and see if there’s a bag with flour there,” Rosie said to herself as she grabbed her coat.

She ran across the field while the wind was blowing swiftly in her hair.
“You shouldn’t be running around like that, after what happened this night.” A hobbit cried. “What..?” Rosie cried back.

The Hobbit stood at the other side of the field and she ran faster so she would reach him. “You shouldn’t be running around like that.” The hobbit repeated as she came closer. Rosie could now see that the Hobbit was no less then the gardener to her neighbours.

“I don’t understand….” Rosie said and looked at him. “What has happened?” she said gravely. She knew it had to be something, because the hobbit looked as he was surprised that she didn’t know what had happened.

“Haven’t you heard?” The gardener asked surprisingly.

“You haven’t heard that a group of bandits attacked the Farroweed farm and took many of their belongings?” The hobbit asked Rosie and shook his head. Rosie’s eyes turned blank.

“W-What..?” She asked again in horror. “D-did anyone…..g-get hurt?” She asked again. “No, not that I know of….. They were lucky, I’m tellin’ ya…” The hobbit said still shaking his head from side to side in disgust of the bandits.

“So that’s why I cried for you Rosie.” The hobbits said. “We ought to be careful…You never know what could happen….not even here, a place we thought was safe.” The gardener added.

“Oh, thank you for you kindness,” Rosie said and shook her head as well. “I really hope that those bandits get caught, and of course that the Farroweed’s are fine….” Rosie said.

“I better get that flour quickly then,” Rosie said. “Hm?” The gardener muttered. “Oh, no….it’s just…I’m just going to get some flour at the mill, before I go back home. Silly me, forgot to bring it last night,” Rosie said. “Be careful then, and hurry!” The gardener said.

Rosie said good-bye to the gardener and walked the last bit to the mill. Luckily there was some flour left, so the running over the fields wasn’t in vain. While Rosie walked home, she thought of the bandits. What a horrible thing to do, she thought; to attack the Farroweed’s farm.

“Hedgar dear?” Rosie cried as she opened the door to the Hobbit hole. “Are you awake?” She cried. “Yes, I’m here Rosie,” a voice said. It was obviously Hedgar’s because Rosie found her husband sitting at the table at the kitchen.

“Have you heard…..?” Rosie said, now breathing heavily. “Heard what, honey?” Hedgar asked curiously. Rosie seated at the chair in front of him.

“So, you haven’t heard then?” She asked to be sure. “No…..I don’t think so,” Hedger muttered. “So, what’s this about?” hedger continued. “The Farroweed farm was attacked by bandits,” Rosie said quickly. Hedgar gazed. “A-attacked?”

“Yes, and the bandits stole some of their belongings as well,” Rosie said. “None were hurt however. They were very lucky,” Rosie added. “This is terrible news, my dear,” Hedgar said and rose from the chair. “I know,” Rosie replied and sighed.

“How did you get to know this, Rosie?” Hedgar asked. “Well, this morning I found out that there was not enough flour for baking so I went out to the mills to see if there were any. When I came across the fields the neighbour’s gardener informed me, and told me to be careful,” Rosie said and sighed again. “I agree, we should be careful,” Hedgar said and looked at Rosie. “What about Fippi then? Should we let him go to school?” Hedgar said.

Rosie needed a moment too think about this. She really didn’t want her little boy to be afraid. “Well, let’s not tell him. That will save him from being afraid. The boy doesn’t need to know,” Rosie concluded. The thing Rosie didn’t know was that Fippi had been standing in the next room, and listened to the whole conversation......

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:58 PM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post

Hedgar laid his eye over the mills, his mills... And his wife’s of course... and... his son's. The fat hobbit man called on Fippi, who apparently but not surprisingly was busy, climbing trees. In fact, the tallest trees in the area. Hedgar listened, waiting for some sort of an answer from Fippi. First, a tree branch broke with a ’crick-crack’ . This was followed by the sound of two feet or a back, (Hedgar couldn't tell the difference) hitting the ground.

"Sonny?" Hedgar called again. A deep sigh was heard before two springing feet made sure that Fippi was at least alive. Hedgar stared towards the door, hearing his son come closer and closer. Hedgar turned as he opened the door for his son, "Come on boy," he urged. To the Hobbit's surprise it wasn't Fippi, it was another hobbit man. "Fippi?" Hedgar said, this being his first reaction. "Hmm. Can I help you?" Hedgar muttered, as he realised he had called this fellow a boy...

"Well, I have a message," he said, trying to hide his big smile. Hedgar grew red, and understood how embarrassing this was, for him, and perhaps for this messenger also.

"There has been much going on lately," the messenger started. Hedgar opened his eyes wide
open, and listened to the hobbit's message.

*********

"There is work to do then," Hedgar said with determination, when the man had finished. He nodded, while giving a faint smile. Hedgar continued;" The hedge! We must finish it! Repair it!" The volume of his voice had filled the air. The messenger looked almost frightened by Hedgar's sudden outbreak, even though it was mere eagerness to get it all done before another attack. Hedgar kept his eyes on the messenger, but realised soon enough that he was probably sick of standing there at the doorstep, and the Hobbit man invited the messenger in.

"You're too kind," he lied. "But I really have to get going," he continued, running off again. Hedgar laughed. He hadn't by chance bored him? Or scared him off?

"Fippi?" Hedgar called again, as he stepped inside. Rosie appeared behind Hedgar, telling him that Fippi was already inside. The husband looked questioningly at his wife, but she waved him off, telling him that the boy sneaked in earlier, because he didn't want to get his father cranky.

"So, what was all this about?" Rosie asked. Hedgar had to retell the story, this time being charismatic, and not desperate. "So, do we want to have a family in our house?" Rosie asked.

[ 1:19 PM December 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar

His footsteps were being weighed down in sludge and he slowly passed through the trees. Sorans sodden arms hung slacky over his shouders as he carried him along. Cursing Guthwine every step he walked, he didnt notice the calls of his son till he was right in front of his face.

'Guthwine arrived at camp without ye, and I knew something had to have happened!' he said raggedly as he took one of Soran's shoulders over his.

'Hmph, always the soldier, blast him' Lotar grumbled.

With Kandel's help, it did not take them all that long to get back to the camp. But by that time, all three were soaked through, muddy, and grumpy. Soran had roused, and was now taking careful steps, but the two men were still at his side, lest he fell. Lotar could see the upcoming campfire, and the light showed the gash on Sorans head clearly.

They manouvered their injured friend to a log by the fire. Some of the new recruits were taken aback that Lotar had actually come back, and with Soran alive at that.

Kandel rushed away and came nack with scanty blankets, and draped them over the two men. Kirima was stooped by Soran, carefully inspecting his head, and seeing what she could do for it.

Lotar was still heaving from the exertion as he said 'Get Guthwine here now'

[ 1:20 PM December 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Hearing the impatience in Lotar's voice, Kirima stood up and stormed out of the tent hoping to locate Guthwine. Her search was a short one, for she could see Guthwine striding up the path not more than a dozen paces away, marching purposely towards her.

Guthwine bent over and clapped his hand on Kirima's shoulder adding a hearty word of thanks for the work the woman had done in loading up the wagons. A broad grin played across his face. "They're off now. The wagons... I'll rest easier tonight knowing those carts are headed to the Weather Hills. They should be there in three days. More provisions will be needed but at least we've made a start."

Pushing up the flap of the tent, Guthwine came inside to face the scowling face of Lotar. He glanced over at Soran and beamed a welcoming nod, "Ah, so that fool Lotar found you! Next time, Soran, stick closer to the band."

Guthwin took a deep breath and plunged forward as if nothing untoward had happened, "Now, about tomorrow night's raid..."

Lotar retorted with anger. "Tomorrow night's raid? First, you'll answer for tonight's. Soran could have been killed!"

Guthwine glanced up and replied in a steady voice, "If Soran had stayed with the band instead of straying off by himself, none of this would have happened. You were just lucky to get him out without getting yourself killed."

"I'll not have you interfering again!" Lotar retorted with anger.

Guthwine shrugged his shoulders, "Fine, as you wish! Let's split the men and make an agreement to stay out of each other's business. You lead the raids against the farms. I'll spend my time devising tactics for getting into the town, learning the layout of the streets and gates, and finding out exactly what's going on in Bree. And I'll also have us prepare the camp for the arrival of the main party."

"The main party?" Lotar eyed him suspiciously.

"Aye, the main party. The entire band should be arriving here in ten to eleven days, no more than that, unless the weather turns bad. The carts with the provisions were already headed to the Weatherhills. I included a directive to send everyone forward, just as the council instructed me to do when I left."

Lotar's face went red but he held back his fury, replying in an even voice, "Whatever the council may have said, you might have consulted with me first!"

"Aye," muttered Guthwine. "Just as you consulted me when you decided to ride back into that camp? I've no quarrel about rescuing a man, but the commander of the unit is too valuable a man to risk. There were others who might have done that job... "

The tension in the tent was palpable as the two men stared at each other with open hostility: each brimming over with anger but reluctant to come to blows with the fate of so many riding on their shoulders.

Finally, Lotar spoke, "I'll be the judge of that!" He turned around to face Guthwine and nodded his head, "So be it then. My men will raid the farms and send the carts with provisions on to the Weather Hills. I'll have Minastan help me as he seems to be one of the few new recruits a man can actually trust."

"Just mind your own actions as I'll be keeping an eye on things. And, if I was you, I'd keep a tight rein on those recruits."

Guthwine hastily grunted his assent and departed for his own corner of the campsite.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:35 AM December 08, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth:

Although the thunderclouds had cleared by early morning, the sky was still a cheerless grey, and the streets within the city were ankle deep in mud. Deep rutted tracks criss-crossed the ground making it hazardous to navigate a wagon through the narrow lanes at anything faster than a crawl.

Breelanders had arisen from their beds to hear the grim news of what had taken place the night before. Neighbors traded stories over the back fence, some of them grossly distorted, while Berilac's messengers went from neighborhood-to-neighborhood, and even door-to-door, to try and dispel the wildest rumors. But even when folk were given the correct information, the townsmen were sober, even glum. They huddled together in small groups grumbling and complaining, debating what the city's next move should be.

Mayor Harald and Berilac lost no time in organizing volunteers to take on the new tasks that needed to be done and trying to restore some sense of order and optomism among the citizens at large. Yet, in all the busy preparations, few stopped to speak with the children, at least using words that the little ones could understand. There was too much to do in too short a time.

Andreth was the first to notice that something was wrong. Usually in the morning, before the schoolday started, a small group of children played outside under her window, throwing balls or chasing each other around the outer walls of the Inn in a spirited game of tag. This morning, there were no children to be seen. The adults who had accompanied them to school quickly hustled them up the steps and inside the Inn where things seemed a little safer than out on an open street.

Andreth soon discovered that it was difficult to focus on regular lessons. Her own mind was wandering. She could see the same was true for the children, many of whom seemed upset. Recognizing that she would be better off dealing with the problem head on, Andreth told the children to set aside their slates and chalk, and then announced that they would be doing something different today.

For a moment she surveyed all the children sitting before her, and in each pair of eyes she read a different story. A few were angry and others afraid. Some swaggered around announcing their presence to the world, while others cowered in the corners hoping that no one would see them. One or two looked determined and eager to make a difference. But, wherever she looked, she could see signs that the events of last night had left its mark on every child in the room. In this way, at least, Lilac had been right.

Big or little, her students were finally united.....united in their common fear of the enemy and the need to defend their families and homes. This is what she'd been working for. This is what she'd wanted to happen. But at what cost?

Andreth sighed and stood up, struggling to put her feelings into words, "I know that everyone here heard what happened last night. A group of bandits attacked the Farroweed farm and carried away many of their belongings. Thankfully, no one was hurt, and Mayor Harald and Ranger Berilac are taking steps so it won't happen again."

"But I know I was very frightened when I heard this, and I imagine you were too. Maybe this morning, we'll set aside our regular lessons. We'll take a little time to talk about what happened and how you feel about it, and maybe some of the things you and your family can do to help make things better."

"Then, when we've talked things out a little, we'll go have a look at that storeroom, and finish straightening all the supplies and food. I think we'll be getting a lot more things over the next few days."

Kali stuck up his hand and waved it vigorously in front of Andreth's nose, asking, "Mima says I can't go work on the hedge anymore with Berilac. In fact, I can't go outside the walls at all. We all have to stay here. Why not? I liked helping the Ranger. And I was good at it."

"Yes, I suppose you were. All of you... You have nimble fingers and sharp eyes. But it's still wet out there and quite raw. It would be too easy to catch cold. Plus, I badly need your help in the Inn. We may soon be flooded with guests, and we need to make lists of all the food."

Kali looked up again and lowered his voice, "I think it's because she's afraid.... She's afraid the bad men will come again."

Andreth nodded, "Yes, she wants you to be safe. We're doing everything we can to be sure no one gets hurt. So you need to be careful and do what your parents say so they can take care of you."

Andreth looked expectently around the class, asking if anyone else had something they'd like to add....

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Fippi

"Mima says I can't go work on the hedge anymore with Berilac. In fact, I can't go outside the walls at all. We all have to stay here. Why not? I liked helping the Ranger. And I was good at it."

Fippi felt sorry for Kali. Fippi as well wanted to help the ranger, even though there were dangerous bandits around. That would only mean that he would see Berilac, his hero, in action. Fippi smiled to himself, and decided to ask his mother when he came home if he still could join building the hedge.

Fippi raised his hand in the air as Kali had done before him. “Yes, Fippi?” Andreth asked.

“I’m not afraid of the bandits,” Fippi said and looked down. “Oh….” Andreth said. “I think it’s very good that you’re not being frightened by such people. We ought to stand against them. Right?” Andreth said. Fippi nodded.

“Childern….” Andreth began. “How did you get to know about the attack?” Andreth asked slowly. Fippi raised his hand again. “Yes, Fippi….”

“Well, my mom….she was picking up some flour at the mills and one of the gardeners to our neighbour told her. Then my mom told my dad. I don’t think I was supposed to hear it because they didn’t….tell…..um..me…” Fippi said and blushed.

“You eavesdropped?!?” Kali exclaimed. “Not really…” Fippi lied. “They were talking to each other.....Loudly...” Fippi said to defend himself.

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

Esgallhugwen's post - Lily:

Lily fidgeted in her desk, all this talk about the bandits made Lily uneasy; although, Poppy had told her not to worry and to be brave it would be over hopefully soon than they can go back to their peaceful lives. Lily hoped that it was true and that no one would get really badly hurt.

She put up her hand next after Fippi was done, 'yes Lily' Andreth smiled reassuring her it was ok to speak. 'Well..' she paused 'Poppy told me that they were coming. She said I had the right to know, there are no secrets in her house' she stopped again and pulled one of her golden curls 'and she also told me not to be afraid that all of us big and little folk should stick together and we'll get through it'.

Some of the class had become encouraged while others were still slightly nervous, little Lily included; she clutched her stone pendant tightly. If there was any more work to be done anywhere including dealing with the hedge Lily would be there, with Poppy of course, helping out by her side.

Lily added a final statement, 'I'll do anything I can, I'm not afraid to help!'.

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

Esgallhugwen's post - Poppy:

Poppy busied herself about the hole, cleaning and doing some last baking and cooking for the day. The gaffer couldn't help but snicker as Poppy fluttered about the house like some butterfly or hummingbird.

She was doing all she could to keep her mind away from worrying about the bandits that were going to come. Poppy had hoped and wished so dearly that it wasn't so, that perhaps they had changed their minds, but she knew it was foolish to think that; they would come and everyone was doing what they could to prepare for it.

The young hobbit lass sighed taking a seat next to her gaffer and sipping on some peppermint tea. The family they had taken in was busy about the town seeing to supplies and what they could do to further help.

Poppy was glad everything seemed to be working out, although Bree looked as if it had become smaller with the sudden increase of people. Yes it was no doubt more crowded than it had ever been but that was something that needed to be done for the safety of everyone.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:02 PM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

There was to be no sleep for Berilac after the meeting, and none for Farmer Thistle. Mausi’s house was quiet when they arrived, she and the children fast asleep. The Ranger stirred up the embers of the fire, adding some shavings and a few small pieces of wood to the hungry flames. Drawing their chairs close to the warmth, the two men talked until dawn. Farmer Thistle would gather his sons when he got back to his little holding and they would see to their neighboring farms. News of the raid would have already gotten round the outlying area, and they would start the requests for families to get themselves into the safety of Bree itself. Berilac wrote two messages, one to be delivered to his brother, Rosco, and one to go to Griffo and Tomlin, his brothers-in-law. They could all start the message chain in their areas, and Griffo could see to the Men he knew who lived near him.

The little household was just stirring when Berilac stood at the door seeing Farmer Thistle off. Kali came up, his feet padding on the wooden floor of the little hallway, and stood just behind Berilac, his little hand seeking that of the older Hobbit. Knuckling the sleepy dust from the corners of his eyes with his free hand, he yawned, asking what the man had come about.

‘Nothing to worry about before breakfast,’ said Berilac, a smile creasing his grey, tired face. He swung the boy to his shoulders and trotted toward the kitchen where Mausi and the others were just fixing the morning’s porridge. ‘We’re here to help!’ he declared, sliding a giggling Kali to the floor.

It was near the end of breakfast, that Berilac gently explained what had happened to the Farroweed family, and what he was planning to do. ‘I think Andreth still wants the children at school. She has things for them to do that will help us get ready to meet the bandits when they attempt Bree.’ He reached out and ruffled Kali’s tousled curls. ‘Why don’t you all get ready to go, and I’ll go with you.

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

Ella, Mondy, and Kali had proved a subdued group as they walked to the Inn. Berilac gave them into the capable hands of Andreth, saying Mausi would be there to pick them up when classes were done.

His steps turned toward the Hedge where the Hobbits had already gathered and were hard at work. They nodded as he approached, but did not slow the pace of their labors. Rolling up the sleeves of his tunic, he pitched in to help them. Today and tomorrow, if they worked, long and hard, the Hedge should be done up to the North Gate. Elfrid and Sammael were already starting the repair of the Gate there, and should be finished then, too.

He wondered, as he worked, if the Mayor had sent off the message to Minastan. It would be helpful to know if the bandits were bringing in more of their own. His thoughts turned to Farmer Thistle, hoping that he had already contacted Rosco and Griffo. Giving a sigh at the thought of how independent the outlying families could be, both Hobbits and Men, he made a small plea to whomever might be listening, that the gathering in might be successful.

So much to be done, he thought. So little time . . .

[piosenniel]

Will Farroweed

‘Ma, I’m going now!’

Letty’s footsteps hurried to the door of the room where they had spent the night. Like a mother hen after the fox has been nosing about, she wanted to keep her chicks close. But Will was set on going out to work on the dike this morning and would not be persuaded.

It might be said he had had an epiphany of sorts, seeing the bigger, stronger group of ruffians threaten his family and destroy much of their belongings. But such a word might be too strong for the dawning understanding that had crept into his fourteen year old brain. He was beginning to understand the effects that rough and bullying actions had on those who were unwilling victims. And while he had not yet generalized those budding realizations to the whole of his conduct, he was sickened by the sense of loss and fear that now shadowed his mother, his siblings, and himself.

And Farmer Thistle and his sons, attacking th larger bandit group - their aid had come uncalled for the night of the raid. And the kindness the Hobbits had shown to his mother as they saw the bedraggled family safely to the Inn. His cheeks flushed a little at the thought of them and he wondered if he would have stepped up if they had been in dire need. He shrugged away those thoughts as useless. ‘I would now,’ he said to himself, picking up the shovel he’d borrowed from Andreth. He brandished his shovel like a club, shaking it at an imaginary group of the bandits.

Pearl and Hamson Comfrey saw him as they entered the Inn for classes. They drew back, cringing against the wall, as he drew near, his shovel in hand. Hamson’s little hand clung onto his sister’s in a tight fist, and he shut his eyes tight against the blow or shove he expected.

There was only the soft brush of Will’s cloak against Hamson’s arm as he passed, and the mumbled ‘Sorry’ trailing after the retreating figure of the older boy. The two hobbits walked on toward class, wondering – had Will just made an apology of sorts to them?

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

‘Right, then, mates!’ came the crew boss’ dismissal. He had outlined the new plan for the day. The staves that Will and some of the other boys had sharpened were to be driven deep into the bottom of the ditch just before the dike, and covered lightly with leafy branches. The men were just finishing up the clearing of the ditch to the north, the boss had said, and now were working their way back toward them, placing the pointed staves. Will’s group and several others would be working their way northward toward them. ‘The Hobbits who are working on the Hedge have brought piles of extra branches for us to use,’ he went on, explaining the carts filled with leafy offering that had begun arriving. ‘You, Will, and your little gang – you follow along behind us and get the staves hidden. The Hobbits will lend you one of their wagons.’

Roddy snickered at the boss once he had finished giving directions and turned away. ‘Hobbits! Surely he can’t think we’ll want to use anything the little rats have touched. Much less speak with them.’ His complaint was cut short by a smart rap to the back of his head by Will. ‘None of that now. This is serious business. Just do what is needed and don’t make trouble.’

Old habits die hard and a bit of the old Will flared up as he grabbed Roddy's arm to emphasize his point. ‘Or you’ll have me to deal with . . . understand?’

[ 3:25 PM December 04, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Driven by concern for their families, a concern fueled by the flying rumors of great hordes of ruffians sweeping down on them from the north, most of the outlying folk of Bree-land had packed up their wagons and headed for the safety of the town proper. With them came their treasured possessions, their money boxes or coin-filled socks, their livestock and foodstuffs from garden, pantry, and smokehouse. Over the past week, the Great East Road had born a motley procession of folk of all sorts upon its packed dirt track. And now the passing wagons had slowed to a trickle as the last of the Big and Little Folk crowded into Bree.

Places to stay had been found for all of them – some with town folk who had opened their homes to their distant neighbors, and some into the large Halls that served the town for meetings and for the running of the government. Bree was bursting at the seams with this influx of bodies, and all were elbow to elbow with their neighbor now, learning as best they could to be accommodating. Mayor Harald had appointed a committee of Big and Little Folk to oversee the needs of Bree’s new inhabitants. Tension and an undercurrent of fear mixed with anger ran through the packed town, giving need for cooler heads to sort out arguments and dispense information that was known to be true.

Work on the hedge and dike with its ditch that ran before it had gone well and quickly. Rumors of a large body of wild ruffians from the north flew about the town in varying forms – the size of the men and their number increasing at each telling. Newcomers to Bree flocked to the worksites to lend their hands and skill. The Hedge and its gates were repaired up to the opening left in the northern edge, which Harald and Telien planned to use as a trap to lure at least part of the bandits in before netting them and taking them prisoner. Will and his crew along with the others that now swelled their ranks, Hobbit and Men alike had finished the dike and deepened the ditch before it, planting the sharpened staves in it, now hidden by a covering of leafy branches.

The Inn and all its storage spaces had been crammed with foodstuffs and some of the many little herds of livestock the farmers had brought with them. Andreth and her students, their numbers now also increased by the influx from the farmlands, had been very busy sorting and storing the goods for future use. Berilac had recruited a number of Hobbit archers for Harald’s ambush plan, as had Telien from among the Men.

All awaited word from Minastan concerning the plans of the bandits. An attack on the town would be soon, they knew – they hoped for an advantage by knowing when and how many might be mustered against them.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:51 PM December 09, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Arwen Baggins - Alvinac and Kari

Alvinac had cleaned the house; it was quite cozy. When he heard that families were coming in from outside of the wall, he decided to help. "Who's it gonna be Father?" Kari circled her father as he pulled a blanket up over the pillow on the cot tied in a corner.

He stopped and put his finger to his lips. "Karianne! I don't know who it is?" He shook his head and told her to go and set the table for dinner.

***

Just before dark, a knock was heard on the door. "Kari! It's them! Get the door!" Alvinac rushed the only brush in the household through his burly hair.

Kari rolled her eyes and opened the door. A family- both parents, two babies, and a teenage boy- stood with only their clothes and a meager amount of supplies. "Welcome! I'm Karianne, and my Father's over there," She lifted her plaid skirt in a curtsy and welcomed the family inside.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:40 PM December 11, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Chathol-linn]

Few creatures moved through the dying rains and the softening thunder. But Huan Vu the wolfhound paid no attention to the grumbling air and the pelting drops. He had found his master Minastan and now was on a mission. He headed for Bree at a dead run.

Harald was waiting at Dantha’s barn when the wolfhound arrived at his familiar kennel. Familiar no more! It was crowded, like every barn in town, with beasts brought in from the outlying farms.

I take your dim-witted meaning, read the unsigned note wrapped in the Mayor’s red kerchief. Huan Vu had suffered it to be tied around his neck again. Be assured the bandits shall not enter the village where you do not wish. I will see to it. And someone with sufficient wits in Bree should beware of the wave of bandits that will come soon. These will be soldiers and families ousted from their homes. They gathered at Weathertop while their scouts came to Bree and took our measure. Well do they know us, I wot, and well do they covet our goods and homes. ‘Tis time for you and Bree to stand true.

Harald took a deep breath. The Hobbits and Big Folk had repaired the Hedge, but for that one place left weak on purpose. The dike was deep enough. Sharp staves stuck up in ordered rows at strategic places, disguised by the leafy branches brought in by the outlying farmers.

Well did I say that downed tree branches would be a good crop this year, thought Harald.

The nets were done, woven and weighted with stones. The Hobbit archers had worked with Telien and marked their positions on high, above the gate. Their defenses were as finished as could be. Minastan’s note left no doubt as to what would happen next.

Harald gave Huan Vu a pat on the head. “Brave fellow,” he said, reclaiming his red kerchief. He left Dantha’s barn and went to the Town Hall, hoping to find Telien, Berilac, Andreth, and the other leaders of town. They needed to know about the wave of ruffians coming soon.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:29 PM December 09, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth and Cook:

With one final burst of energy, Andreth sprinted into the kitchen and set down a tray overflowing with dirty luncheon dishes and cutlery; she slumped into a chair and pressed her fingers against her temples in a futile effort to relieve her throbbing head. For the past two nights, she'd had no more than a few hours of sleep. The problems and workload the displaced Breelanders had created were almost more than she and her staff could bear.

The Inn was filled to capacity. She'd soon had to insist that families double up in rooms; hobbits and big folk alike were crammed together in tight quarters, forced to cooperate and figure out a way to share the limited space and beds allotted to them. At first there had been a grumble or two, especially on the part of the Men. But, as grim news poured in from the outskirts of town that the raids and looting were intensifying and spreading, the bickering quickly subsided and folk began to cooperate.

During the day, convoys of wagons regularly set out from the Pony, loaded with volunteers of every age and race, both male and female. There had even been one or two dwarf traders stranded in town who were terrified to go out and expose themselves and their goods to the possible assault of the thieves. They too had put up at the Inn.

It was essentially a race against time: to see if the Breelanders could harvest the crops and load them into wagons faster than the outlaws could carry out their raids, which were still happening on a nightly basis. For the most part, the Breelanders were winning. They had far greater numbers than the bandits, and could gather in the crops faster than Lotar was able to launch his assaults. Still, the outsiders managed to loot one or two farmsteads every night, carrying away wagonloads of crops and possessions.

The Inn had an abundance of grains and vegetables that had been tucked away in the storerooms and cellars. The children had dutifully stacked these provisions onto the shelves and made careful lists to keep track of everything. The supply of fresh meat was not quite so bountiful. Pigs, goats, cows, and chickens were tucked away in barns and fields and even grazing in people's gardens. But the farmers were reluctant to see them slaughtered. Goat's and cow's milk was at a premium, needed for the making of cheese, chickens were zealously guarded for their eggs and the sheep for the wool blankets they provided. That left only goats and pigs for possible consumption, but even these were protected by farmers who feared that they would not have enough of their herds left to start breeding the animals again once they'd returned to their cots. Hunting was always a possibility. Yet the threat of bandits was so close, few were eager to set off into the woods on their own.

Andreth had instructed Cook to leave meat off the menu. Folk would just have to be content with other things. But this went against every natural instinct that Cook possessed and she vowed to find a way to have just a wee bit for supper. Cook was actually quite clever in how she went about this. She persuaded Will Farroweed and his cohorts to help with promises of special goodies and managed to get them organized into an early morning hunting party venturing out into the Chetwood, before they even set out to do their other chores. A steady stream of squirrel, duck, fish, and coney was slipped through the back door of the Pony, without Edmund or even Andreth totally aware of what was going on. It wasn't like the old times, but there was usually enough to cook up a mess of stew or a hearty meat broth, much to the approval of the dinner guests at the Inn.

But this morning pickings had been thin, and the valiant hunters had returned with empty hands. Cook had slipped out to the small shed, her meat cleaver in hand, eying the family of three bunnies that Edmund had brought back over a week before. She had brandished the cleaver over their small heads and was about to bring it down with a flourish when Andreth suddenly turned up out of nowhere, fussing and fuming at her for this small deception. Reluctantly, she set down her weapon and watched Andreth depart. She shook her head in open disapproval and muttered to herself, "Mistress, you're a good lady, but too soft hearted. Folks have to eat. Not all of us were meant for vegetables and such, which you seem to favor. Many of us need something a bit more filling, especially in trying times like these."

Cook turned back to the conies and lifted the smallest one up by the scruff of the neck, brandishing the cleaver about a inch in front of the rabbit's nose. "Well, Mr. Patches, you'll live for one more day. But, if I have my way, you'll see an end in the stew pot soon enough. There's too many hungry folks out there to worry about whether we have one or two less rabbits." She trounced back inside and immediately took out the flour and cheese with thoughts of concocting a mess of rarebit.

Outside the Pony, hiding in the shed that sat right beside the small animal pen and hutches, a small boy sat in misery, wondering what he could do to save his friends from Cook's certain wrath. There was no doubt in Edmund's heart. He'd had plenty of experience with Cook's stern punishments. If Cook said she meant to cleave his dear bunnies into a dozen pieces, then that was surely what she intended to do.

The question was: what could he and his other friends do to stop her?

[Chathol-linn]

Minastan with the Bandits

Huan Vu was a dappled dark dog. He vanished into the night quicker than his own shadow. Minastan watched him go, thankful that he had learned his letters long ago.

I take your dimwitted meaning, he had written, responding to the Mayor’s code. Now it was time to deliver. Guthwine and Lotar looked upon him with favor but between themselves, there was mistrust.

Here was a coil. Minastan could not risk angering either of them and he did not know which one was better to approach.

They are talking together now, he thought. I will address them both and let them sort it out.

“Well has Gareth been rewarded for his trouble,” said the Ranger aloud, looking from Lotar to Guthwine. “He has kept a good portion from his raid on the farm. Now I can give you a bigger prize, the town itself, and what will be my reward?”

Minastan waited while Guthwine looked him over. No doubt I seem a goodly thief to him! It takes a thief to con one, he thought.

Guthwine leaned close. Minastan disguised his triumph and whispered: “The town hedge is weak at the north! I can lead you into Bree right under their noses. You can have all that you want, and all those at the Weather Hills too. I’ll be wanting as much plunder as I can haul, for they will kill me if I stay, and I need your leave to depart without hindrance.”

Guthwine said, “For my part you have it. I never trusted a traitor in my midst. See that you lead us well or I will kill you myself.”

Minastan thought, I would welcome the contest, bandit. But he smiled as if satisfied. The bandit and the disguised Ranger talked long about getting organized for the attack on Bree.

&lt;font size=1 color=339966&gt;[ 7:00 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]&lt;/font&gt;

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 7:10 PM December 16, 2003: Message edited by: Chathol-linn ]

[Chathol-linn]

Willofain Spies on Minastan

When Mayor Harald sent Huan Vu forth into the woods, a secret pair of eyes watched him go: Willofain’s.

What a game Mayor Harald plays, she thought. Spies! I should like to be a spy. I will spy on Minastan’s wolfhound and see where he goes.

The girl had no difficulty following Huan Vu through the evening dusk. It was almost as if the wolfhound was outlined with shimmering light, so easily did she find the trail. And she was fast and tireless. After a while she was watching the outskirts of the outlaw camp, where Ranger Minastan fumbled at Huan Vu’s red kerchief, read a note, and wrote one.

Willofain saw all this; saw Huan Vu start for the Bree road again. She heard footsteps and she crouched under a thicket lest someone find her.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Narrative - Guthwine

Guthwine sat perched on a log close to the campfire, pouring over a map of Bree that had been salvaged from last night's raid. His men had accomplished a great deal over the past seven days. He had been careful to stay out of Lotar's way as much as possible, focusing instead on preparing the camp to accomodate the hundreds of families now migrating down from the Weather Hills. Guthwine had somehow managed to keep a tight rein on the recruits to stave off further troubles. Although there were still occasional fistfights and grumblings, things had generally settled down.

Just yesterday, Edgar had returned to Chetwood with his wagon empty, spilling out his story as to how the provisions had been gratefully received and the details of what was going on in the main encampment. As soon as he and Tomba had arrived there, their fully laden wagons had been greeted with enthusiastic cheers, as hungry men and women crowded close, eagerly reaching out to make sure their families received a fair share of food.

The two men had distributed the supplies to those in greatest need and then appeared before the council with Guthwine's letter in hand. After reviewing the message, the elders had agreed to adopt the strategy and timetable Guthwine had proposed and immediately ordered the families to begin collecting their belongings so that they could break camp in just three days. If all had progressed according to plan, the larger band had left yesterday morning, setting a course northward along the base of the Weather Hills. This group was expected to arrive in Breeland within a space of only three to four days so there was not a minute to lose.

Still, there was one point that still bothered Guthwine. He felt they knew very little about the city, the state of its defenses or the layout of its streets. And it was simply impossible to plot a battle strategy unless he had at least a modicum of such detail. He'd tried pumping Minastan for information but that had yielded surprisingly few results. And, once or twice, Guthwine could have sworn that Minastan had actually contradicted himself in the descriptions of the town that he had offered.

Telling himself that there had to be a better way to gleen needed information, Guthwine stared down at the map. The one helpful point that Minastan had volunteered was that there was a clear break in the hedge to the north of the town. It was hard to believe these citydwellers were such fools as to leave their flank unguarded. But, having lived through the nightmare of the Orc attack in the Misty Mountains, he did not doubt that foolhardy men could bury their heads and refuse to act on an obvious problems.

Still, that gap in the hedge posed an interesting opportunity, not just for the battle itself but also for these days of preparation. What better way to get an idea of Bree's defenses than for him to pay a little visit to the town? No one had seen his face in these parts, and he was unlikely to be detected. He thought about mentioning his scheme to Lotar but decided against it.... There's no use getting his back up again!

Guthwine had done such spying within enemy encampments on one other occasion, and he felt confident that they would be able to get the information he needed and successfully return. But there was still one answered question. Exactly who should come along with him on this little venture?....

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:37 PM December 11, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Esgallhugwen's post: Poppy

'Come in come in, please we have your room all ready and cleaned Mister and Misses Gardener' Poppy took hold of their luggage and gave them a tour of the hole 'It might take some getting use to, you living in a house and not a hole but it's comfy and cozy all the same' she smiled and showed them their room.

Bell and Gorbadoc thanked Poppy and Gaffer Goldworthy graciously unable to find proper words to pay homage to their kindness. Poppy blushed and laughed, 'Oh come now, no need to thank us, we're just doing our part is all' the Gaffer said pouring some tea inviting them to sit down for a wee bit and try to relax.

It was akward trying to have a half decent conversation. The Gardener's had been raided the night before and they were one of the very last families to have come to Bree for sanctuary. None the less they tried to lighten the mood and Lily thought it would help if she showed them a little dance she had been practicing with some of the children at school.

She spun about the room her pink dress twirling about her, she looked like a delicate gold and pink flower taking in the warmth of the sun on a cool spring day. Little Lily skipped and hopped from side to side and she ended with a curtsy, they clapped, applauding her performance.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:05 PM December 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Taralphiel]

Lotar watched the camp bustle around him, and paid no heed. The last few days had been filled with small farmhouse raids. What little talk came from town was of fear of a dark menace pillaging and killing.

'Killing...' Lotar thought.

'I would have no death in this place, but...'

He began to think about how futile and childish his own ideals now seemed. He has saved his old friend, and received condemnation for it. Yet he resolved he had done what was right.

He looks at the bandits going in and out, and felt he had lost his camp. Guthwine had given him chores to occupy him, and not what he was sent here to do. He grit his teeth when his thougths strayed to that man.

He was even more enraged when he found of a mision to find the towns defenses was organised with no word to him.

'I have come here for survival. He came here for war. Curse him' he said out loud.

He felt helpless, and he had only felt that once before in his long life.

Kandel approached him slowly and said 'Guthwine is now taking volunteers to go on that mission of his. Shall I go?'

'Yes son. You must go. I am in no state of mind to. They need some sense, those fools. They will be the death of us all'

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth, Edmund, and Kali:

In normal times, Andreth might have noticed that her son did not look terribly happy when he rose from bed and came stumbling down to breakfast. But times were not normal. With so many guests packed into the Pony, Andreth found herself besieged with problems of every sort and had precious little time to devote to Edmund.

That morning, his mother came sprinting down to breakfast after spending two hours untangling a whole series of mix-ups in the kitchen and stables. She gave Edmund a perfunctory kiss, and hustled him off to school without really talking with him or taking any notice of how he felt.

Once they made their way into the classroom, the Innkeeper again found herself at the middle of a small storm. This time, there were several students who sought advice or reassurance about some of the worries concerning the bandits and their raids. Andreth took time to listen, while blithely ignoring Edmund's insistent tugs on the back of her skirts. She'd turned around just once in the middle of a discussion with one of the youngsters, issuing a terse reminder that Edmund must wait till later.

As the lesson began, the boy looked increasingly morose and withdrew to the back of the room, doodling pictures of rabbits who limped sadly across the middle of his slate. Once or twice, he stared vacantly through the window and caught a glimpse of his beloved bunnies still trapped in their hutch. By the time recess came, the young boy was feeling miserable and wondering if his mother even remembered that he existed.

When the children began a game of tag near the side door of the Inn, Edmund wandered off by himself. Before the lad could get too far, Kali waved to get Edmund's attention and ran up, pouring out an avalanche of questions in typical hobbit fashion, "Why are you so sad? What's wrong? Can I help?"

The two lads had gotten to know each other better over the past week as they went about their tasks of arranging the food in the pantries and caring for the animals. There were far fewer squabbles than when school had first begun. Still, Edmund wasn't sure whether he should trust Kali with his secret. But if he didn't talk to someone soon, he thought he was going to burst.

He sidled over to the hobbit and whispered conspiratorily in his ear, "Something bad is going to happen to the rabbits. I don't know what to do. Cook vows to put them in the stew pot. Even mama doesn't know." His face turned dour, "Not that she would care!"

Kali stared down at the ground and thought for several minutes before he spoke, "Maybe we could find a way to save the rabbits? Just us.....the children at the school?"

"That's a good idea. But, how?"

By this time, several of the children had heard the lads talking and roamed over to listen. Kari quickly piped up with her idea. "I know just what we could do. A few months ago, I went on a picnic, up past the northern gate. It rained so hard we had to take shelter. We found a little cave, set a ways back, near the end of the hedge where the cliff hangs down. It's a perfect place to hide a family of rabbits and not too far from the city. We could take turns bringing them food."

Kali beamed, "Yes, and there won't be any problem getting up there. I know just where there's a hole in the hedge....the place where I found my treasures. We can slip out at night and not have to go through the main gate. No one will even know."

Everyone in the circle nodded in agreement until Edmund reminded them, "But where will the rabbits live? The hutch they have now is just too big for us to carry." Edmund pointed towards the heavy wooden crate that rested on long poles.

"We know! We know!" Pearl and Hamson squealed out together, raising their hands and waving them in the air to get everyone's attention.

"Shh!" Kali reminded them. "Don't let the teacher or the older children hear."

Pearl leaned over and whispered, "Our father takes care of little animals when they get sick. He has wonderful small wicker carriers. He has stacks and stacks of them and wouldn't even notice if a few were missing. We'd need three of them, but they'd be no problem to carry."

Edmund looked over at his friends and grinned, "These are wonderful ideas! But we have to act fast. Tonight we'll meet up under the large tree by the north gate. No one has to know. Just sneak out once everyone is asleep."

The faces in the circles beamed as the heads of the children, Big and Little, wagged up and down in excitement. Then Kali put a finger to his pursed lips and reminded everyone to be quiet about their secret for the remainder of the day.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:52 AM December 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Reluctant to trust the newest recruits, Guthwine had decided to bring Kandel and Soran, two members of the original scouting party, along with the young and impetuous Rudgar. At least the lad had a stout heart and could use his honied tongue to wriggle out of difficult situations. Guthwine hoped his choice of comrades would placate Lotar whose anger had spilled over upon hearing the news that an expedition had been planned without his knowledge or consent. In the interests of maintaining a modicum of peace between them, Guthwine had grudgingly backed down and agreed to let Lotar finalize the plans for the group.

By mid-afternoon, four outlaws huddled around a small table in Lotar's tent surveying a crude map that had been set down in front of them and listening to final instructions before setting out on their journey to Bree. They expected to arrive by early evening and spend a few hours studying the layout of the town, assessing its manpower and defenses, before returning to the camp later that night. Each of the men carried a dagger or sword hidden within the folds of his cloak or tucked under the belt at his waist.

At Lotar's insistence, the outlaws would be taking horses rather than travelling on foot. Strangers on horseback were a common sight in the streets of Bree and would elicit no special notice, since, even now, the town could boast a number of caravans arriving at its gates. And if the identity of the men was ever exposed, the horses would provide their swiftest means of escape.

The men hurried out of the tent and, heading southwest, strode across the camp mounted on their horses. On into the forest they trotted, being careful to avoid the smaller towns or any of the outlying farmsteads. The afternoon sun had dipped low in the sky, almost touching the far horizon, by the time the riders reached the northern outskirts of Bree and came to the opening in the hedge where they could slip through into the town.

Before they pushed through the hedge, Guthwine tugged on Rudgar's sleeve and beckoned to Kandel and Soran to come stand by his side. He looked around and whispered fiercely to them, "Go now, and have a look at the city, and gather the information that we need. Do not waste your time on idle feasting or drinking, but do the job we were sent to do. We will all meet this evening outside the Pony, the largest hostelry in Bree, two hours past dinnertime. Then we will make our way back to this place and push onward to our encampment."

"Meanwhile, be careful what you do and say. Listen to the conversations around you on the streets; do not be afraid to talk to others. Find out everything you can, but be careful to hide your true identity. And, wherever you go, do not get left behind in the city!" Here, Guthwine stared straight at Soran. The men nodded mutely in reponse, and then each pushed his body through the hedge and came out on the other side, within the boundaries of Bree.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:10 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tara's post for Kandel:

Kandel strode through the city, not worrying about blending in. After all this time, people thought he was a regular to the city. Lotar had let him wander in and out, collecting valuable snippits of information. He nodded politely at different people that passed him.

‘Good day to ye, Fean’ said one of the bar-rats, out for fresh air. This name he used in the town. It was from his mothers own name, and he could not think of anything more fitting in looking for such a cause as this. He also liked hearing something close to her name being said out loud again.

‘And to ye Holth’ Kandel said in return ‘The service any better in there today?’ he said with a wink.

‘What do you think!’ said the man with a hoot and a wave, which was enough to send him off balance.

Kandel lowered his head and was hit by the dank and smoky air of the tavern. He ordered an ale and joked with the barliman, before sitting down for a good yarn with the tired men of the town.

‘We’ve reached dark times, it is easy to be seen’ said one grey-haired man, pipe clenched in his teeth ‘Our defenses aren’t meant for war! We have a task defending against these awful bandits!’

Some grumbled in agreement; others waved him off. Kandel sat and listened carefully.

‘I still find this city too divided! We have too much trouble getting along with Halflings, let alone defending from the foreign menace burning at our borders!’

Another spoke up ‘I think we have little choice. Those bandits are destroying us bit-by-bit! We have to get along if we are to survive! We need those Halflings' help if the wall is to be mended!’

‘So they are mending the wall. It is a wise thing to do in their case, though they have not the time to do it properly’ Kandel thought inwardly. His thoughts were interrupted when a man called out his ‘name’

‘What do you think of this Fean? Your words have always guided us well, boy!’

‘My words have hardly been fitting for these things! If it was how to woo the carpenter’s sister, I could help ye mightily!’ he drew a rose out of his pocket and handed it to one of the barmaids.

‘But of war and politics, I have no real advice to give ye. I only lend my ear to such things’ he leant back as they chuckled at his antics, and took another mouth of ale.

‘My, that hardly seems like you…Fean’ said a voice as a hand clamped on his shoulder. Kandel saw the look in Guthwine’s eye and didn’t shift his expression.

‘Well Uncle, you’ve been away from these parts so long! Last you saw of me I was dueling squirrels and snails with a wooden sword! I have lived and learnt since!’ Kandel was quick to introduce Guthwine as his uncle Endol, and sat him down for an ale.

As Guthwine moved, he hissed at him ‘Lived and learnt? Obviously not as much as was needed! These are drunkards! What could you possibly learn from them! What did I say about drinking? And what is with this ridiculous name you are traipsing about with?’ His voice was becoming more elevated as he continued.

‘You haven’t changed Uncle! I am no child, I know this town well, and all its fine people!’ he waved his hands out to the men of the Bar, who cheered in response. Kandel took another drink and covered his words with his glass.

‘This method has saved the entire camp in the past. You have less luck asking at random. And what of my name? Would you say that to one other who bore it?’

Guthwine had little to say to him of this, but his expression did not lack in telling his feelings of what he said. Satisfied with this, he leant back on his stool and said ‘Are you not expected back at the house Uncle? Mother will be grieved if you are not home soon, she worries so! But I have the day to myself, so I shall see you a little after dinnertime! Fare thee well!’ and with that he turned his back on Guthwine, and went back to regaling his friends.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:17 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Scowling at the impudence of Kandel's response, Lotar hastily exited the Inn and headed towards the marketplace where a few random stalls were still set up despite the lateness of the hour. He stopped to purchase a number of items, pots and pans and blankets and other supplies that would be needed in greater numbers for those who would soon be arriving from the Weather Hills.

The bandits had plenty of cash to get them through the night. Many of the farmhouses they'd pillaged had small lockboxes with copper and silver coins and even an occasional gold piece. Earlier that evening, he'd handed out money to the others in the party and told them they could spend it as they saw fit, as long as they could manage to strap the goods onto their horse's back.

He heard his own stomach growl and wished that he could tarry at the Inn and order some dinner. It had been a long time since he'd had a proper meal, something more than simple camp fare. But time was too valuable to waste. There was no sense sitting and eating when he could be gathering needed information. He threw down a tuppence for a hot bun at one of the stalls and wolfed it down in two gulps, but his stomach continued to tell him that he was very hungry. Finally, Guthwine stopped to barter with a huntsman who had packed up his things and was just trudging homeward, persuading him to part with half a side of venison for a goodly sum of cash.

The trip home would be a long one. With each of the men purchasing supplies, weapons and other trinkets, the horses would be hard pressed to go any faster than a walk. They would probably not see the camp again till an hour or two before sunrise. Guthwine promised himself that, once they'd gotten out onto safer ground, he'd let the men stop and prepare a hearty meal of venison steaks to get them through the night.

The rest of the time, he spent wandering around, mentally memorizing the layout of the streets. He slipped into the guardhouses to have a look at things and see how many weapons were stockpiled there. He madea note of the fact that there was a good amount of tar that could be heated up and hurled over at the invaders. They'd have to take precautions against that.

These sentry points were interspersed at strategic points along the gates and throughout the entire city. Strange that the Breelanders would go to such trouble, yet let a hole in the hedge wide open. Perhaps, it was what he'd heard from one or two folk along the street. The hobbits were so inept that they couldn't tell a good piece of work from a bad one.

Guthwine made only one other major purchase, rapping on the door of a metalsmith, to strike up a conversation on the dangers of the bandits and purchase a new set of daggers, the best he'd ever had, that were inlaid with fine silver. When questioned by the fellow as to what he would do with them, he told the man not to worry, that he'd find a good use for them in the battle that was soon to come. At one point, the smith's children ran into the shop laughing and playing, something that made Guthwine feel uncomfortable. He'd just as soon think of the Breelanders as fat and ungrateful pigs who did not deserve the riches falling on their heads, not as devoted husbands and fathers.

Then he wandered back towards the appointed meeting place, hoping the others had bought the needed supplies for the arriving refugees and also managed to get additional information that would make the assault on the city a little easier.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:09 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eruantalon's post:

Looking around at the hurried city, he wondered what he could learn. Now how do these people ever expect to fight us off if they can’t organize their city? Walking down an alley way he heard two men talking. They were at the end of this twisting and turning stone path.

“When do you think those bandits are going to attack?” asked the first man.

“When they're good and ready! They don’t seem to be in any hurry. I have heard lots of stories about bandits raiding farms, though,” the other replied.

“Our mayor and his men have some good plans….but I really don’t know what’s going to happen with this town,” said the first man.

“They’ll get their’s if they try and get into the city. We have good walls and protection. We just have to get a few more things," replied the other.

No use in listening to two people who know nothing more than town gossip; he had better things to take care of. He walked into a small pub and sat in the corner where no one else was. The bar maid asked if he wanted anything. He answered “Only to get out of the cold for a few moments and not be bothered.”

He looked around at the people--some drinking away, some looking very worried. He keep the faces of the worried ones in sight at all times. Some of them sat at a table together. Some were alone, maybe they knew something. After a few minutes he decided not to sit there longer. They didn’t look like they would open up to strangers. The drunks he didn’t want anything to do with.

It was getting vary late now. Time to get back to the meeting place. The Prancing Pony was waiting with his cohorts. Nothing much done or seen. He had to get back quickly and hope he didn’t miss them.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:18 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Pio's post - Pearl and Hamson Comfrey

Everard Comfrey was up late, much to the annoyance of his son and daughter. His oft heard motto was “Early to bed, and early to rise.” And they could not fathom what was keeping him up so late.

‘Now what’s he doing?’ asked Pearl, as she slipped a pair of leggings on under her skirt. She was not fond of the cold, and was determined to be as warm as possible on this excursion. ‘He’s checking on that injured marten that Farmer Bracken found down by the stream.’ Hamson, standing on a wooden chair he’d dragged beneath the window, dared a longer peek through the crack in the curtains. ‘I think he’s giving him some slivers of fish.’

‘Pearl! Hamson! Are you two still awake in there?!’ The sound of their mother’s voice sent them quietly scurrying beneath the quilts. ‘We’re going to sleep now, Mami!’ said Pearl, hoping Delphinia would not take a notion to check on them. ‘Just tucking Hamson in!’ Hamson giggled nervously at the deceit and Pearl smacked him lightly on the shoulder whispering ‘Hush!’

Sometime later (it seemed like ages in their imaginings) they heard the door to their burrow close, and the familiar sounds of Papi blowing out the lantern and trundling off to bed. Hamson poked Pearl in the side after a goodly amount of time had passed and soft snores issued from their parents’ room.

‘Let’s go,’ whispered Hamson, throwing the covers back from his side of the bed. Picking up his scarf, he wrapped it about his neck, then climbed on the chair at the window and wriggled quietly out. He landed with an ooph! on the hard ground and crouched down quickly listening for any movement from his parents’ window. Hearing none, he motioned to his sister, giving her the ‘all clear!’

They sneaked through the pools of shadows cast by the bright moon until they reach their father’s storage shed. ‘This should do,’ whispered Pearl, carefully taking out three medium sized wicker carriers. Hamson fingered the latches on each, making sure they were in good working order. ‘These’ll do fine,’ he agreed, loading them onto their little pull wagon. ‘Lucky for us, Papi let me clean the tools today. I asked if I could oil the wheels for the carts, too. So we shouldn’t make too much noise.’

The town was sleeping after a hard day’s work. Houses and burrows alike were shuttered and dark. Hamson and Pearl went quietly and quickly to the agreed on meeting place. The large tree by the North end of the Hedge loomed up like a large, dark giant. Standing in a shadow of their own, the two children peered hard into the night toward the tree, looking for any sign of their companions.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:16 PM December 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kali:

All during dinner, Kali squirmed nervously in his seat as he pushed his food from one side of the plate to the other but without actually putting much into his mouth. The young lad said little, staring down at the checkered cloth that his mother had spread out over the board. He occasionally glanced up to peer out the window and see if it was getting dark ouside.

The supper conversation was continuing among the other members of his family, with Rosco and Berilac dropping in to say hello and accepting his mother's invitation to stay and eat. Most of the discussion focused on the work the hobbits and men had done in gathering up the last of the crops and plugging the holes in the hedge. There were only two times when Kali glanced up from his plate and listened more carefully to what was being said. Once, he heard Berilac mention that Will Farroweed had become a serious worker who wasn't afraid of a hard day's labor. That didn't sound like the Will that Kali knew. For, to be truthful, he was still a bit afraid of the older lad. The second time, his mother had observed how foodstuffs were in such short supply that all the townsfolk would have to dig down into their larders and chicken coops to turn up enough provisions to keep everyone fed.

Kali's heart began to thump frantically when he heard these words. He had an irresistable urge to get up from the table and run out the door to make sure that no one would steal off with the conies. With great effort, he kept quiet and did not stir from his seat. For, if his mother had any idea of what he was about to do, she would never agree to such a foolhardy scheme. Kali kept glancing at Ella and Mondy, wondering if they had overheard the conversation in the schoolyard and would decide to disclose exactly what the younger children had planned. After what seemed like a very long time, dinner came to an end with a special treat of bread pudding and treacle. Kali left his pudding sitting on the plate, while his brother and sister bolted down their portions and ran off to throw themselves down on the rug beside the hearth and listen to Berilac's stories.

Kali backed away from the table, politely excusing himself from the others by explaining he was tired, and then scampered down to the room where he and Mondy slept. He dug deep under a pile of dirty clothes drawing out two limp carrots he'd rescued from the school larder earlier that day, hiding them under his pillow. The carrots wouldn't be enough to feed the rabbits for very long so he hoped others would remember to bring some food. Slipping under the bedclothes fully dressed, Kali drew the covers over his head and curled up in a warm ball, waiting for the visitors to leave and his family to go to their beds. Despite his excitement, he found his eyes growing heavier and gradually closing as the grey shadows lengthened and the lantern by his bedstead burned low. Two hours later, he suddenly awoke. His brother had padded down the corridor and jumped into the adjoining bed. Mima followed just behind, tucking in blankets and planting a kiss on both of her lads' curly heads.

Kali listened while his mother's footsteps retreated down the corridor and disappeared inside her room. His heart was pounding so fiercely that he was afraid the noise would disturb his brother. Sliding out of bed and stuffing the carrots in his pocket, Kali tiptoed back to the small parlor that looked out over their garden. No one in the burrow was awake. He pushed on the door and watched it slide open an inch or two. Then he pushed a little harder and slipped his body through the opening, hurriedly unlatching the garden gate and scampering down the darkened street in the direction of the tree that stood near Bree's north gate. As he approached the agreed upon meeting place, he could see several children, Big and Little, already gathered beneath the shadow of the tree holding rabbits and small hutches in their hands.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 6:53 PM December 30, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Novnarwen's post - Fippi

Fippi sat alone, gloating. He couldn't really believe he was going out tonight, saving rabbits. In a way he felt very pleased with himself. This was after all a symbol of friendship, between him and his class mates. He giggled, but stopped as soon as his mother passed him by, looking suspiciously at the him.

"You're awfully happy today," she muttered with a short laugh.

Fippi smirked, but didn't answer. He told her that he was tired and wanted to go to bed. His mother looked at him oddly, however, Fippi wasn't surprised by it. He never actually volunteered to go to bed. Hedgar usually had to make him go to bed. Fippi sighed and looked at Rosie, who didn't understand her son's intention. "I am really tired," he added quickly.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked. Fippi opened his eyes wide open. "Well, I mean," Rosie started as soon as she saw the disappointed face expression in her son's face. "You never go to bed willingly so why the sudden ..."

She was interrupted by Hedgar who appeared in the door. "Just let the boy go to bed, or he'll get cranky tomorrow," Hedgar said being amused by the whole scene. He lifted his cup up to his mouth and drank the final drops of tea. He waited for Rosie to come with objections which eventually came. "But Hedgar… Something is wrong! This boy doesn't need sleep! He never goes to bed when he is supposed to, and he isn't very cranky of nature either!" she exclaimed aggressively.

Fippi looked up at his mother and shook his head. She is figuring me out, Fippi thought desperately, trying to look very innocent. He felt his hands being sweaty and his head was getting ever warmer. This was definitely over. If Rosie continued this she would figure it out and he would get hear much yelling for even thinking about getting out so late at night. He shuddered as he straightened up to listen to Hedgar's 'defence'.

"Rosie! For one time sake's, let the boy sleep. He won't get lazy for sleeping once in a while," Hedgar started. He was immediately interrupted by Rosie who raised her voice to another level. She explained that this lazy-thing wasn't the point. "Not the point at all!" she expressed. "The boy is up to something!" She said again, but was overwhelmed by Hedgar's fierce voice.

"It's not like he is doing something against the law," Hedgar said. He continued:" It's not like he is going to run away." Hedgar looked at Fippi and blinked. Fippi almost jumped up by that last sentence, but made himself smile and blink back to his father, who obviously thought there was nothing wrong whatsoever.

After huge debate Fippi’s parents reached the decision that their boy would do nothing wrong. "Right?" Rosie said, looking questioningly at her son. Fippi nodded, but looked worryingly down on the floor. He raised from his stool and made his way out of the room, having his parents behind exchanging worried looks and expressions. He saw Hedgar ending the debate as he made himself another cup of tea. Fippi advanced towards the door of his room and slid through the door. How was he going to make it out of the house when his mother was so suspicious? He had no idea, and soon he gave up the idea of ever getting out of the hobbit hole to be with his friends, saving the rabbits. He undressed and put on his night wear. Fippi looked out of the window, where the sky was already turning dark and the light from the moon shone brightly.

"KNOCK! KNOCK!"

Fippi turned around as he saw the door of his room slide open. Fippi sprang towards his bed and threw himself on it. In a desperate movement he turned the light out and was silent...

"I know you're awake, sonny," Hedgar said as soon as he had tip-toed into the room. Fippi sat up and looked at his father. "Now?" Hedgar said, having another cup of tea in his hand. Fippi frowned while asking; ”Now what?"

"Oh come on boy! You can tell me! What was your ‘plan’? I want to know! I am curious! See? It's eating me alive!"

Fippi was both surprised and stunned by his father’s sudden eagerness to know everything, and for moments Fippi couldn't get himself to speak. He managed to press forwards however, that he was supposed to meet some friends. "From school, that is," he finished. Hedgar looked as if he was in deep thought and now and then he put his cup to his mouth and drank in small gulps. Fippi held his tongue and waited for Hedgar to think this through. At first Fippi couldn't believe he had just told his father. There was absolutely no way he was going away with this, or rather, there was no way Hedgar would allow him to meet friends at this time of night.

"Friends you say?" Hedgar asked thoughtfully. Having emptied his cup and all, Fippi had to think fast. Hadger wasn't very co-operative without tea and sugar running in his veins.

"Aye," Fippi said, as he knew Hedgar loved when people said 'aye' instead of 'yes', which after Hedgar's opinion was too 'Big-Folkish'.

"Well then... Off you go! And I'll cover for you for about 1-2 hours. I cannot guarantee more time," he said quickly now rising from Fippi's bed where, he had been sitting comfortably.

*****

Silently, but with great excitement, Fippi had made it out of the house as soon as his father had agreed. Fippi was still a bit worried about the fact that his father was 'covering' for him, whatever that meant. He shrugged. Now the most important thing was to make it to the agreed meeting-place and hopefully they hadn't gone to the hedge already.

Fippi ran the last bit of the road and met the others, breathing heavily. "Ready?" one of the children asked as soon as he saw Fippi arriving.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:16 PM January 07, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Will Farroweed

It was noisy at the Inn. It couldn’t help but be so. The place was bursting at the seams with farmers and their families who had come in from the outlying areas of Bree-land. There was no place to get away from the noise at the Pony, every inch not occupied by Hobbits or Men was crammed with farm animals, nose to tail in their proximity. Some creature of one sort or the other was always awake.

Normally, Will did not mind the hubbub and the jostling. He came from a loud family of seven children and two parents. Even his soft-spoken Mother could hammer her opinions home with a great voice if needed. And now that she had reconciled with Big Tom (though if truth be told, he was on his best behavior now around the Hobbit guests because of the watchful eye she kept on him), the family’s room was noisier than ever. At least in the country, when he wanted a bit of quiet, he could walk out to the gnarled apple trees that hedged the pig runs to the west of their house, and hide himself on one of the middle branches, among the leaves. The stars through the leaves moved quietly in their courses, he recalled, and only the occasional call of a nighthawk or the soft whirr of the fruit bats broke the silence.

He used to do his best thinking in the trees. Although, thinking then had mainly run to his nefarious plans to pull mean pranks on some unfortunate victim. He felt different now, though he could not quite put the words to his feelings. There were twinges of conscience now that informed his ponderings. Checkpoints he’d learned to rely on when he was making decisions. To be sure, his mother had planted the seeds, but it had been through his work with the other men on the dike, and his interactions with the Hobbits he had met and worked alongside that the seeds had begun to throw down roots and send up their first sprouts. His new work companions and the patrons at the Inn expected him to act a certain way, expected that he could act a certain way – treated him as a young man on the verge of adulthood, assumed he would make the right decisions, the ones needed.

He needed to make a few decisions tonight, and so found himself heading for the tree he’d used once or twice before. Mistress Woolthistle had extended the invitation to him to attend classes. He’d never been much of a student, and he knew from listening in on the class from time to time, that there were younger children (many of them Hobbits, to be exact) who were leaps and bounds ahead of him in reading and numbers. Now the Old Will would have bullied the ‘smarty-pants’ unmercifully – but the new Will saw it differently. He’d watched the Men and Hobbits attacking a problem with calculations and with written plans; he wanted to be able to do that. His pride warred with his thirst for knowledge – he needed to think this through. One other problem needed solving, too. He was a crack shot with his short, hunting bow. And he had heard about the plan for Hobbit archers in the trap that was being planned. He knew he could help out. But he knew his mother would say no, and he knew he’d need to convince the Hobbit Ranger that he was sincere in wanting to help out.

Will watched the sun’s last finger of light squeeze down below the western rim of the world. He’d brought an apple and a small skin of water with him, and had stuffed a few pieces of jerky in his pocket. He’d even brought a folded a blanket to cushion his back against the bark of the large tree that stood near the North end of the Hedge. From his position on a branch about ten feet off the ground, he watched the lights go out in Bree as he settled in to think. All was quiet for a while, except for the night breezes rustling through the leaves.

Then his ears picked up the occasional creak of wheels along the dusty path, and the soft whisperings of two little voices. Soon they were joined by others, and made their way out through the gap in the Hedge. Big and Little Folk children! In the darkness he could not make out exactly who they were, but he could see them moving in a cluster away from the safety of the Village.

When they had passed a fair way beyond the tree, he climbed swiftly down, landing softly in the leaves below. There was no time to run back to get someone to help; the night was already swallowing them up. With light steps he crept along behind them, being careful to hide behind rocky outcroppings and bushes once one of them, in the lead, had lit a small hooded lantern to light their way . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:34 AM December 29, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Pio’s post – Kari

‘Shh! I think I hear something.’

Kari spoke quietly and motioned for the group to gather round her, hooding her lantern as soon as the children had huddled near her. The night was quiet, a few crickets had been chirping. Something had alerted them, though, and now the darkness hung about the children in heavy silence.

‘I don’t hear anything,’ whispered Fippi, straining his ears to hear. A chorus of ‘Me eithers’ went round the group – from Pearl to Hamson to Edmund to Kali to the twins, Rollo and Randy, who stood close together holding hands (big as they were, the dark still scared them.) Little Lily huddled in against Kari, holding her hand.

‘It must just have been the wind in the dried leaves,’ said Kari, a little louder. She lifted the hood of the lantern and focused a small beam of light out before them. Readjusting the small pack on her shoulders she led them north along the western edge of Bree Hill. She and Kali knew that there were shallow caves in the face of the hill up there. The coneys would be safe and dry and hidden from prying eyes – they could even make a little pen for them for when the children visited them.

She worried about what the animals would eat. Kali had brought two little carrots, and she had a small bag of oats she’d ‘borrowed’ from the mill. It wouldn’t keep them long. ‘Oh, I am going to be in such trouble when my Da finds out about all this!’ she thought to herself. She looked back to where Edmund and Kali now pulled the little cart that Pearl and Hamson had brought. She could hear the coneys that Edmund had brought moving about a bit as the cart hit little bumps in the ground. ‘It will be worth it to keep the little bunnies alive,’ she thought again, hearing him speak quietly to the animals to calm them.

Kari fingered the little knife in the sheath at her belt. Once the sun peeped up enough for them to see better, they could look for edible weeds and grasses in the forest. It was only a short distance from the caves; they could stuff her pack with it and leave it for the coneys.

Then hopefully they could sneak back to town before their families were up and about . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:58 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post - Rosie


Rosie had by all means the intention to check up on the boy as soon as Hedgar had gone out to the mills, and close them up for the night. Her husband however, didn't show any sign of going that evening. This, particularly, seemed to make Rosie even more curious what Fippi was up too; and perhaps her husband was involved as well. She didn't know...yet.

But soon Rosie forgot about Fippi's very queer behaviour, and started to tidy the kitchen. It looked quite messy after a "hard" day's work in it. When she was done, it had become much darker outside, and even Rosie was starting to get tired. It had been almost two hour since Fippi had gone to bed, and now Rosie remembered that she had planned to check up on him. Hedgar however was seated in the kitchen waiting for the late evening tea that Rosie was making. He smiled as she looked at him.

"I think I'll go and check on Fippi," Rosie said so that she could she her husband's reaction. She smiled again, and went towards the door.

"...B-but the tea dear?" Hedgar asked faintly, rising slowly from his chair. He got up now, when he saw that Rosie was walking towards the door in direction of Fippi’s room. "Sit down honey.." Hedgar said in a kind and low voice. "Lets drink some tea," he said calmly.

Rosie looked at him suspiciously. What on earth was going on here? She wondered. Why didn't her husband want her to check up on her son? It was like Hedgar heard what she was thinking because he told her not "To disturb the boy's beauty sleep", and then he laughed merrily. Rosie however protests: "Boys need no beauty sleep!" She exclaimed and looked with great eyes at her husband. He laughed again; "You are something...aren't you Rosie? Always...this very...amusing creature, that's what you are." he said and laughed even louder.

Rosie couldn't ignore this, and laughed as well. Taking Rosie's hand he led her over to the table again, and pushed her in her chair. There was something wrong here, Rosie thought. Her husband’s hands were all sweaty. They weren't sweaty . . . unless, something.....was going on. Something was wrong. He was nervous, that was it! It was unbelievable how her imagination was teasing with her, and how it created images upon images in her head.

Hedgar got over to the kitchen and picked up two cups and the brought Rosie tea.

This was odd, Rosie thought at once. Hedgar had always been a very kind and loving husband, but she was always the one that served tea. But she had to admit that she liked the idea, and how she was being treated. Like a real lady, she thought.

"Thank you darling," she said and smiled. "The pleasure is mine…" Hedgar said politely, and lifted his cup towards his lips. The tea was quite hot, so the left his mouth as soon as it had come. "Very hot!" He exclaimed.

"Oh...yes, it is indeed." Rosie said and laughed.

"So, what's going on...with Fippi?" She asked suspiciously and she could feel the curiosity eating her up inside. She couldn't quite slip the thought that Fippi had went to bed by himself, and at that time.

"Hm?" Hedgar asked innocently, now picking up his cup again. He looked at her as he was surprised over the question.

"Don't ask if you're surprised now," Rosie said in a teasing, but at the same time suspicious way. Her lips curled slowly when she saw that Hedgar was ignoring the question by taking another long sip of his tea.

Hedgar shrugged, and took a sip of his tea once again. "I t-think he had a bit of a headache." He mumbled. Rosie gasped. Her dear son was sick, and Hedgar hadn't told her! How could he? "He is sick?!?" She asked loudly.

"Noooo...." Hedgar said and sat down the cup again, she took her hand and said: "He's only got a thing headache...t-that's all." He should never have said that, he probably knew that as well, because Rosie was now storming up from the chair. "Why didn't you tell me?" She said curling her lips even more. She seemed upset that her son was sick and that Hedgar hadn't allowed her to help Fippi. "B-because....Fippi wanted to take it easy, and sleep." Hedgar muttered, not seeming the slight of worried at all.

Rosie shrugged. "Perhaps he does...."She said and sat down in the chair.”That was why he wanted to go to bed." She said and sighed. "I can't believe he wouldn't tell his own mother though. Maybe he doesn't like....like me....nursing him." She said and gave a deeper sigh than before. "My dear Fippi is a big boy now...he can handle it alone, that's probably it. That very brave boy of mine..." Rosie said as a tear was streaming down one of her pink cheeks.

"No, honey!" Hedgar said and wiped the tear away. "He loves when you…dull with him.“ He said and gave a faint smile. It was obvious that he didn’t want Rosie to feel bad for anything.

"Yes, you're probably right." Rosie said and sniffed. She took a sip from her tea."He is a big boy now....a big brave boy." She muttered. "Aye, he is indeed." Hedgar said and smiled. Rosie smiled as well, but she could still feel the concern for Fippi. She had always thought of him like a small innocent baby, that needed his mother's love and care for his survival. That was a bit true though, she thought afterwards.

"Let’s make a deal!" Hedgar suggested enthusiastically. Rosie looked up, and waited for Hedgar to continue. "If he doesn't come down tomorrow as early as he always does..." Rosie interrupted Hedgar with her merry laughter. "Yes..?" She said waiting yet again from Hedgar to continue. "....well, then we'll go and talk to him. And then, my dear, you can nurse him...all you want!" He said and smiled at her, now taking a deep breath.

Rosie didn't say anything, she just smiled, over the fantastic idea her husband had just brought up. He was truly a man with a great character.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Arestevana's post for Kirima:

It was dark, and the clouded sky did little to improve matters, making it impossible to see far into the forest. Kirima stood at the edge of the campsite, once again watching for intruders. She cast a longing glance toward the fire behind her, looking enviously at the few bandits seated around it. The weather had grown colder, whispering of winter. The rains that had tormented them were gone, leaving the land no less dry than before. With the cold that now came it seemed that only snow might fall.

The land will see little water until the first warmth of spring floods the parched earth with snowmelt, Kirima thought. If we survive the winter, maybe spring will be kinder. She stared into the woods, thankful for the last few rays of sunlight. Her watch would soon be over, but if she let so much as a rabbit slip into the camp, she knew she could expect a reprimand. The entire camp was tense, with the hint of winter’s approach.

Kirima scanned the woods again, watching for movement. Walking a little ways into the trees she thought she heard a sound above the quiet murmur of the campsite. She cocked an ear and listened. The sound was quiet, but very distinct; something was moving toward the bandit’s camp. Though they were well-hidden by the shadow of the forest, Kirima could see figures approaching. For one alarming moment, she thought the townsfolk had found them. Then she realized that it was the other refugees from the Weather Hills that were now drawing near their camp. She turned and shouted at those sitting by the fire to tell Lotar that the others had come, and then she ran out to meet them.

Soon enough the camp was full of newcomers, and noiser than it had been for a good while. Small children dashed about, playing and laughing. Other folk set up tents and rough shelters, or cut wood to build fires. Lotar and Guthwine were discussing their plans to capture the town with several men who had just arrived, and Kirima joined several other women to prepare a meal for the campsite.

Everyone seemed a good deal more cheerful than before. Those who had traveled with the scouting party found the friends they had left, and listened eagerly to every story from the weather hills. People laughed and talked, and for a while the threat of winter was forgotten.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:23 PM January 09, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine:

Guthwine surveyed his companions who'd gathered round him on the steps of the Inn. They'd all returned from their explorations of the city, each one bearing a number of different items that were now bring strapped onto the horses' backs. They'd purchased so many things that they almost appeared to be a group of travelling merchants.

Rudgar was peering through a window into the Common Room where he could hear a string of music blaring out. The sweet smells of cooking food wafted onto the porch.

"That's enough Rudgar," Guthwine snapped back. but keeping his voice low. "We've gotten what we came for and it's time to head out. We'll stop and eat once we've cleared the northern wall and get up to the high ground." He grunted and pointed towards the carcass of the deer which had now been strapped to the back of his horse.

They were just about to leave the Pony when the Innkeeper appeared outside coming up to greet them. She was a young woman in her late twenties, with a head of lovely red curls streaming down her back. The woman halted, look them up and down, and then come over to address them, "You'll be needing a room for the night then? The gates are locked now, and there's no going in or out. I can give you a single room to share for one silver coin. Breakfast, what little there is, is extra."

For a moment, Guthwine felt his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth, scarcely knowing how to respond. It was Kandel who saved their necks. "But Uncle," he quickly replied, turning to Guthwine. "Didn't you say that we'd be boarding with your kin, the ones with the house at the base of the hill, not far from the furrier's?"

"Ah, yes." Guthwine nodded and managed to blurt out his goodbyes to the Innkeeper as they headed down the steps.

As Andreth turned to re-enter the Pony, a strange thought skimmed through her mind. She knew of no residence near the furrier's at the base of the hill. And she'd never seen any of these folk before, though they claimed to have relatives in Bree. But then another guest came up and asked for a room, and she totally forgot about the strange men.

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

With a sigh of relief, Guthwine and the other scouts made their way through the hedge and up onto the hill that overlooked the city, just above the cave that Kari had discovered. This was a secluded area, which seemed to be a good spot to make a fire. They kept the blaze small and, in the space of an hour, had cut up the carcass, roasted the steaks, and were enjoying a hasty meal before starting their homeward trek.

At the last minute, just as they were going to break camp and continue down the trail, there was a noise from far below at the base of the hill. Guthwine strained his ears. It almost sounded like children. But what children would be out and about on a night like this when bandits lurked on the doorstep of the city? The Breelanders could not be that foolish or neglectful. It must be some sort of sentries or a scouting party.

Panicked at the possibility of being discovered, Guthwine kicked a bootful of sand over the fire and motioned to everyone to go quietly up the hill. Within a short time, the bandits had disappeared into the thick forest groves, leaving behind nothing to tell of their coming except a few bones from the carcass of the deer. That, and something else that was very small....

For a few embers still nestled on the ground near where they had eaten, not quite buried in the sand. The coals lay quite close to a pile of dry bracken that was heaped up against a fallen treetrunk. Within a space of a few minutes, the tendrils of red flame leapt outward and began to feed on a trail of scattered leaves and grass.

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

The outlaws headed in a northeasterly direction, making their way towards the encampment. Their progress was steady but slow. The horses were heavily laden with all the satchels and supplies they had purchased. The brush sometimes crowded onto the path, making their progress even more difficult. They carefully maneuvered around a few isolated farmsteads they encountered in small clearings to the west of Archet and Combe, taking the long way around to avoid any chance of detection.

Over two hours had passed since they'd stopped for a bite to eat, yet they were still far from camp. It would be at least another two hours until their arrival home.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:48 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post

Willofain never knew what made her follow Minastan’s wolfhound into the Chetwood. She thought it was a wonderful spy game, just as the Mayor had hinted. When Minastan took the note from Huan Vu’s red neckerchief and replaced it with one of his own, Willofain thought it was part of the fun. A secret!

She watched Huan Vu speed away from Minastan. Willofain followed as best she could, all the way back from the Chetwood to the Hedge. There she heard voices. It was dark but she could see from their silhouettes that they were four Big Folk. Willofain had never seen any of them before. They were each leading a horse. She heard the biggest one say, “Be careful what you do and say. Listen to the conversations around you on the streets; do not be afraid to talk to others. Find out everything you can, but be careful to hide your true identity.”

Willofain wondered, Why are you hiding who you are? She could not make it out what they meant to do. She decided to find Mayor Harald and tell him, and she slipped through the gap in the Hedge.

Now other voices came to her ears. This time the owners of the voices were both Big Folk and Little, and Willofain knew some of them from school.

"What are you doing?” she asked.

Kari explained, “We are helping Edmund save the bunnies from the stewpot. We brought them here and now we must get them some food and water.”

“Oh, I can help!” said Willofain, forgetting all about her message to the mayor. “Water, you say? Well, I can fetch that for them. Where shall I bring it?”

“Do you know the cave near the gap in the hedge?” said Edmund. “We’ve put them in there.”

“I’ll follow you straight away,” said Willofain. She made off to get her water skins filled.


_____________________________________________

Pio's post

In the pale grey half light of pre-dawn, the children made their way out to a small meadow to cut the long, tender grass and edible plants for their ‘guests’ in the cave. Little Lily worked with a will, though she was very tired from staying up so late. Her nimble little fingers plucked off handfuls of succulent greens for the coneys which she stowed in Kari’s pack, as did several of the other children. Rollo and Randy had big pockets in their tunics and they put them to good use. Kali and Edmund crouched down by the small stream, gathering the crisp watercress that grew there. Nearby, Fippi snapped off the tender shoots of the new conifer trees, figuring that if the deer liked them, as his dad had told him, then surely the bunnies would.

‘We should get back,’ said Kari to Willofain, as she dumped some small edible roots she and the other girl had dug up from the clearing. ‘My Da will be getting up soon to see the mill. He’ll have my hide if he finds I’ve been out all night! And outside the hedge!’ Willofain nodded. She was staying at the Inn, under the watchful eye of Miz Andreth. She knew Edmund and she would be hard put to sneak past the serving girls or cook, one or more of whom was sure to be up already.

Fippi hoped his dad was not worrying about him and that he would still cover for him from his mother. Kali was envious when Fippi spoke to him. ‘My goose is cooked,’ Kali told the other boy. ‘Cooked and quartered and served up on a platter . . .’ He sighed, as he said the old familiar phrase his mami had taught him. ‘Why’s that?’ asked Fippi. ‘My sister and brother will notice that I’ve gone. They both get up really early. They’ll wake up mami and tell her, and then she’ll send Berilac out to find me. I’ll be one sorry little Hobbit.’ He stood up and squared his shoulders back and thrust out his chin a determined manner. It had been worth it! he thought to himself. He’d helped his friend Edmund save the coneys.

Kari whistled low and catching the attention of the others motioned for them to gather round her. ‘Let’s go,’ she said leading them back toward the hill, ‘We’ve got enough to last them a couple of days – we can check on them again day after tomorrow.’ Willofain signaled for them to go on; she had brought several waterskins and was just going to fill them at the creek. It wouldn’t take long – she would catch up. Kari led the others toward the cave.

They had just come out from under the shadows of the trees, when Fippi, catching a whiff of something odd, scanned in the direction the smell came from.

Smoke it was! And there coming down from the side of the hill was a small line of crackling flame. ‘The coneys!’ he yelled, pointing frantically at the flames drawing near the entrance to the cave. ‘We’ve got to save them . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:58 AM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post - Fippi

Fippi was pleased by the night’s accomplishments, but was even more pleased to hear the suggestion, of them all going back soon to look after the rabbits. Fippi grinned, as he bent down and picked up what looked like an eatable plant. He turned his eyes over at the others, who had gathered leaves and grass for the small ones. They would be heading back to the cave first, before returning home, to give the rabbits the juiciest leaves and grass found in Bree.

Fippi looked up, to see that dawn was drawing near. He knew that he was way too late for the agreement he and his father had reached the previous evening. Off you go! And I'll cover for you for about 1-2 hours. These were the exact word of his father. Fippi shrugged, knowing that he had been out for a lot more than 1-2 hours. By this, he grew a bit ashamed, but he shook the feeling off as he saw the other children making ready to go to the cave again. I'll soon be home, Fippi thought, assuring himself that this was how it was going to be.

He bent down one last time to find some juicy grass by a big tree trunk. As he and the other children, following him, stepped out of the shadows, Fippi felt a weird smell stream into his nostrils. Fippi opened his hand, where he had gathered grass and leaves. He stuck his nose down in it, but it wasn't the same smell which he smelt now. The smell of grass was delicious and reminded him of a hot summer day when he climbed trees. This smell, however, reminded him of ... of.. when Hedgar lit a fire!

The Hobbit boy opened his eyes wide open, looking tensely around. The other children, who noticed Fippi stopping up, came up beside him and asked curiously if there was something wrong. Fippi waved the twins off, still trying to look after something which could imply that his nostrils hadn't been completely wrong, when thinking it smelled like fire.

"The coneys!" Fippi suddenly burst out. By the cave, which wasn't far away, grey smoke could be seen and the flames made it almost impossible to be mistaken. "Fire!" he yelled, now pointing desperately at the flames. ‘We’ve got to save them!!!"

Without hesitating and in mere desperation, Edmund and Kari ran with great pace over to have a better look. Randy and Rollo followed closely behind; meanwhile the Hobbit children were the last ones to run closer, (their short legs seemed to be the main reason, not their courage). The thick grey smoke had spread around in the area in no time, and it looked like dirty snow. Somewhere in between, you could see the colour of red, mixing up with the smoke, dust and the faint sunlight. The fire would soon be out of control.

Fippi urged everyone to stay together, being afraid of losing the others in the smoke, which laid itself like a blanket around them. “I can’t see!!” Kari shrieked. Fippi felt the heat of the fire and pearls of sweat dripping down from his forehead. “Into the cave!” Fippi urged. It was all he could think of, at the moment. The others agreed, now not seeing each other clearly. “We’ve got to save the coneys, now,” Fippi continued. Fippi felt the smoke running down in his throat, causing difficulties to speak and breathe. He fought desperately against it, taking his hand to his throat, trying to breathe. He hulked as he heard Randy.

“But what about the fire,” she asked, coughing. “The cave is our only chance!” Fippi tried to shout this out loudly for everyone to hear, but he didn't know if his voice had reached everyone's ears. Fippi though, hadn’t finished before he could hear most of the children running towards and into the cave.

The darkness in the cave was unpleasant, but the smoke, luckily, hadn’t overwhelmed them, yet. Fippi looked around, hoping to see someone by his side. For a moment, he stood still, calling for the others. Why did I have to lose the others now? he thought, helping himself to calm down. Here he was, alone in the dark, in a cave with fire and smoke blocking the entrence. Was it over?

Fippi advanced over the cave floor, holding his hands out, waving desperately with them in hope to dash into somone. "Ouch!" Pearl, let out. Pearl and Hamson stood just as helpless as Fippi in the dark. But now,at least, the three of them had found each other. None of them unfortunately could seem to spot the any of the others anywhere, though.

"Fippi, is that you?" It was Kali approaching, who to the Hobbits looked like a giant in the dark. "Come!" Kali urged.

Soon they entered a chamber far into the cave. It was even darker in here, but less smoke. Fippi could glimpse the Big Folk children, who had made it to the cave before the Hobbit children. "The coneys are safe," Rollo assured Fippi. "For now," Kali said, looking at the coneys. Fippi nodded. The Hobbits and the Big Folk children lay down on the floor; it was common knowledge that smoke went upwards and that the oxygen would be nearest to the ground. They huddled together, coughing now and then as the smoke swirled around in the chamber. Fippi felt the half wet ground under his body. He looked around, getting small gilmpses of each and every . . .

W-where i-is Li-ly a-and Will-ofain? Fippi stammered. Where a-are th-they? he asked. He felt his hands getting sweaty.

Had the smoke overwhelmed Lily and Willofain? Hadn't the two of them made it to the cave?

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:02 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Kali and Edmund:

As the clouds of smoke thickened, Kali and Edmund each grabbed one of the conies and lay sprawled out on the ground next to each other, with the rabbits tucked close to their shaking bodies.

"I'm scared," Edmund blurted out in between fits of coughing.

"Me, too!" moaned Kali, as he rubbed his watery, stinging eyes.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come? All we wanted to do was help, but now we're in a real mess," Edmund countered to his friend.

"I dunno' but I wish I was home in bed." He looked down at the soft fur bundle now cradled in his arms, and delicately fingered the long ears. "I'm really sorry, Mister Rabbit. We'll try to get you out of here as best we can."

Kali did not say out loud the fear that was uppermost in both their minds: what if no one came to help, and the fire raged on uncontrolled?

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 2:12 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post

Her waterskins were filled to brimming. And she was just on to her way to meet the children at the cave when she spied the smoldering embers left by the four Big Folk. The nearby leaves had caught fire and were burning.

“There are leaves everywhere!” exclaimed Willofain. Sure enough, the fire had begun to spread, and it raced downhill toward the cave where the children had hidden the conies. She ran toward the flames, trying to outpace them and give warning when suddenly she caromed into the legs of a Big boy and went flying backwards.

The Big boy came over and offered her a hand up. “I’m Will Farroweed,” he said. “You’re Willofain. You know the mayor, don’t you? Then I have a job for you.”

[piosenniel]

Pio's post

Without benefit of a lantern, Will had found it difficult to find where the children had gone. He had tried to keep a fair distance away from the group to avoid them hearing him. Kari had been suspicious earlier on when leaves crunched beneath his foot, and he knew that if they found him following him they would be angry and drive him off. He deserved it, he supposed, he’d been pretty bad . . . ‘before’.

‘Before’ was the time before the bandits had raided his family’s farm, and the farms of others, driving them into the confines of the city; the time before he’s been banned from the school and put to work with the others, Hobbit and Man alike, to reinforce the dike and hedge; the time before he’d been expected to grow up and act like a man. Time with the shovel, moving slowly along the outer perimeter of the hedge, had given him plenty of time to think about where he was and where he was going. And plenty of time to understand that the choices were his alone to make, for good or bad. ‘There’s no wriggle room,’ the Hobbit Ranger had told him once, when he’d come to check on Will’s progress. ‘No room for blaming someone else for your problems. We all make mistakes; we accept the blame; make amends, and move on. Next time we’ll do better.’

This train of thoughts ran through his mind as he cast about for where the children had gone. And some time later he saw them, now out in a meadow gathering grass and plants for the bunnies in the cages he had seen them with. ‘The children shouldn’t be out here,’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s dangerous so far from the town.’ He squinted in the darkness. ‘And where are the coneys?’ he wondered.

They were leaving; Kari had gathered them round her. The group moved toward the edge of the clearing, then one of the Hobbit boys paused and sniffed the air. A cry of alarm went up as the group ran . . . ‘for the cave,’ he heard them call out . . . ‘save the coneys!’ . . .

‘I can help,’ he thought as he ran after them. The smoke grew thicker the closer he got to the north western section of Bree Hill. He could see the flames licking across the dried leaves in front of the face of the hill, moving in a line toward the hedge and east toward a copse of trees. ‘The cave must be under the hill,’ he said, picking up speed. His line of vision was becoming obscured, and he could hear the crackle of the flames to his left as he neared the hill face and turned north, seeking the cave the children had gone into.

The wailing of someone in pain slowed him to a halt. ‘Who’s there?’ he called out to whoever was making the small, frightened sound . ‘It’s me . . . Lily,’ came a small, wavering voice. ‘Keep talking, Lily. I’ll find you.’

Bruised and disheveled from her fall, Lily sat coughing in the smoky air, rubbing her ankle. ‘I fell,’ she said. ‘They didn’t see me.’ She moaned as she turned her tear streaked, grimy face up to him as he crouched beside her. A series of sniffs and hiccups sandwiched between new tears followed as she told him she couldn’t walk – her ankle was hurt.


The crisp popping sounds of dried, downed limbs burning, the whoosh of trees as the flames flew up their branches sounded nearer. No time to get to the cave with Lily – the path was cut off by the sinuous wall of flame. Scooping Lily up, he put her astraddle his back, her arms locked about his neck, the bend of her knees held up firmly by his arms.

Her weight, though light, slowed him down as did the smoke. He had gone only a short way when he ran into another figure . . . or rather another figure ran into him, and fell down with a thud. It was one of the Big Folk girls – Willofain, he recalled. He gave her a hand up and told her to run as fast as her legs would carry her to the town . . . alert the mayor . . . get help. ‘We’re cut off from the cave. I think they’ll be alright in there if they stay at the back.’ He turned Willofain in the direction of Bree and gave her a nudge. ‘Hurry on! I’ll be there soon with Lily.’

Willofain’s figure was lost in the smoke in a few brief moments, and he followed as quickly as he could . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:50 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Novnarwen's post

Hedgar

Hedgar woke at the break of dawn, by the rays of the sun; streaming trough the curtains, making it immensely light. The Hobbit rolled over and down on the floor, now being fully awake. He grabbed his dressing gown and went silently out of the room, shutting the door carefully; Rosie was still asleep. Hedgar made his way to Fippi's room. He stood still for a moment, waiting, listening if there were any signs of life inside. After a few minutes passing, the Hobbit man made his move. With a gracious movement he opened the door and slid in.

At first, Hedgar grinned, seeing Fippi laying in his bed, or that was what he thought he had seen. Soon enough Hedgar understood that he had been very much mistaken; it was only a doll of some kind. The Hobbit grabbed the doll by the hair, stared into its' eyes, before throwing it across the room hearing a little *boom* as it hit the wall. He heard a vague sound coming from Rosie's bedroom; she would soon wake up, Hedgar knew that. He felt his hand getting sweaty as he reluctantly picked the doll up from the floor and threw it back on the bed. This time, with no real force. Hedgar left the room moments later before getting another 'doll-attack.'

What am I supposed to do? Hedgar thought angrily being disappointed that his so called 'plan' hadn't worked. Now, not only, would Fippi be in big trouble when Rosie figured all of this out (she would, eventually, and her Hobbit Sense would help her getting to the truth); He, Hedgar would be in even bigger trouble! The Hobbit slammed his head desperately against the wall regretting it the very moment he realised he had done it; what if Rose had heard? Besides, it was terribly painful!

"Ehm... ehm..Don't mind me dear... It's nothing.. dear.. nothing at all.. everything is under... under control," he stammered to his own rescue, taking one hand to his forehead (where the pain was worst), rubbing gently. The other hand found its way to his mouth. The terrible headache was intolerable, and the Hobbit had to take his hand into his mouth and bite his jaws together, to prevent screaming.

Light-footed, Hedgar ran towards the front door. "I think I see Fippi by the mills," he pressed forwards, still having half of his hand in his mouth. "I'll go and look for him and bring him back for breakfast in a little while," he managed to say before springing out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He ran out, not caring if Rosie had heard it; she was still in bed, and would probably stay there for a while more.

"Neat!" Hedgar muttered to himself. "Here I am; in pyjamas, no breakfast, no shaving and only one silver coin!" He reached after the coin in his dressing gown, which he still wore. "Well, well," he said grinning, meanwhile looking at the coin, now feeling a bit pleased about himself.

Hedgar ran quickly away from the doorstep and the hobbit hole. One would never know if Rosie stood 'lurking' in the window, being suspicious about Hedgar's behaviour.

He trudged slowly away, calling for Fippi now and then. Soon, but naturally with that stomach, he became tired and the sweat started running down from his back. He realised that he had turned in a totally different direction than intended, and now he had ended up near the Prancing Pony. He smirked as he saw his opportunity. Ale, this time a day must be a record, he thought, getting rather cheerful by this thought. He forgot what he was really out for, and headed towards the Inn in a great pace, or rather the greatest pace a Hobbit like Hedgar could make.

****

There was a faint light in the Inn. Only a few people sat at the benches, most being slightly drunk or half asleep. None however, came to Hedgar's attention. He made his way to the desk, where he laid the silver coin and ordered a pint. The woman standing behind seemed to be very surprised by this customer; drinking this time a day. Hedgar felt the smell of fresh ale. It was delicious and he seemed to be forgetting his real task; to find Fippi. Hedgar settled at one of the benches, alone. He sipped his ale, now and then trying to remember why he was even here. He shrugged as he drank hit ale in big gulps.

"Hedgar?"

It was a woman, who appeared in front of him. At first he ignored her, but figured soon that this was Miz Andreth; Fippi's teacher. He smiled, drying the areas around his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Miz.. Andreth!" he said, happy to finally talk to someone. "I am really sorry about my behaviour, the pea-episode, I mean," he said snorting.

The woman told him not to worry and that she would be sceptic too, if her boy had been treated so badly at school. Hedgar smiled again, approving.

"So, what makes you drop by this time a day?" she asked gently, looking at the Hobbit.

Hedgar, who had completely forgot what he was really up too, shrugged and bit his lip. He took another draught of his ale, while thinking as hard as possible. "That reminds me..." he started, still being unsure. He slid his finger up and down the flagon, frowning. "Ah!!" he suddenly burst out. Miz Andreth looked questioningly at him, her eyes wide open. "Fippi... he's gone missing.. And, I am .. well.." he said. "I wwas looking for him," he finished.

"Missing? How?"

"Last night. Fippi confessed he was going out with some.. some.." Hedgar said trying to avoid the Innkeeper's look. "Friends from school! And I told him to come home soon, but he hasn't been home yet!"

"Friends from school? Edmund??" With this Andreth walked quickly away from the table, where Hedgar was sitting. Hedgar, who got quite confused by this, chose to follow after, bringing his pint along, though.

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

Child's post: Andreth

Andreth had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach as she hurried down the hall in the direction of Edmund's room. In recent days she had been so relieved to see that her son had been getting along with the other children at school, both the Big and Little ones. And she wouldn't have changed that for the world.

Yet when Hedgar spoke about Fippi going somewhere with friends, she had the uncomfortable feeling that somehow her son had be involved in this mischief. Quickly pushing open the door, Andreth ran over to Edmund's bed. All she found was a pile of crumpled bedclothes, with a pillow stuffed under the covers to try and look as if someone was actually sleeping there. In the corner of the room was her son's nightshirt. It looked as if Edmund had hastily tossed the nightshirt on the floor as he hurried to change his clothes. And when she checked in the wardrobe, she found that there were breeches and a shirt missing, along with her son's second best pair of shoes.

Fighting back a rising sense of panic, Andreth sat down on the chair, placed her head in her hands, and thought for a moment. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an image of Cook wielding a cleaver popped into her head. She leapt up, grabbed Hedgar by the arm, and propelled him firmly into the corridor, heading towards the door that was off the side of the Inn right next to the animal sheds and pens.

She explained quickly as she sprinted down the steps, "I have an idea, but I hope I'm wrong." Running into the enclosure, Andreth approached the hutch where the family of rabbits was housed. But there were no rabbits to be seen inside. The door was open and everything was gone: the three fat bunnies, their water dishes, and even a small bag of carrots from the shed that she'd put there the night before.

She turned around and shook her head, "Hedgar, I have no idea where our children are, but I'm sure it has something to do with these missing conies.....

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:08 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn's post

The night was darkest just before dawn. The fire at the Hedge was behind her, and its smoke still pained her eyes and made it hard to see. Few lights showed in the houses of Bree.

Harald, please be at home, Willofain thought as she ran through the dark streets.

She passed the house of Dantha, the mayor’s sweetheart, and continued up the graveled street to the stone house that was the mayor’s. To her joy a light shone through the upstairs window that overlooked the street and the town.

“Mayor Harald!” she cried in her little girl voice.

The window opened outward. “Who calls?”

“It is Willofain! O Mayor, there is a fire down town. Please let me in!”

Let her in! Harald was downstairs in an instant and nearly carried the girl upstairs to the kitchen. “Give me you news!”

And she did. “The fire is headed for the Hedge! And the girls and boys from school are in the cave with the conies,” she finished.

“What next,” he groaned. “Stay here!” Harald stormed outside and ran down the hill, shouting for Telien all the while.

Willofain was never one to follow orders, but she stayed long enough to search the kitchen for some food. She found a slice of cheese, the end of a loaf of bread, and some cool cider. She wolfed these down like Huan Vu, and then took after the mayor, catching up to him at the sign of the Prancing Pony.

“Fire!” he was roaring into the night.

[piosenniel]

Pio – Will and Berilac

His legs were leaden as he approached the North Gate. Poor Lily had tried to stifle her moans, the pain in her ankle shooting up her leg each time he tripped a little or came down hard in his step on the rutted path. He had no strength left to make it to the hole in the hedge, further north. Will leaned against the locked door and kicked it hard with his boot. ‘Open up!’ he yelled.

‘Now, now,’ came a sleepy sounding voice through the spy-hole. ‘Who is it? And what business do you have in Bree, lad?’

‘Open up,’ roared Will again, barely swallowing the ‘old fool’ that nearly followed the command. ‘There’s a fire! It’s heading toward Bree. And some of the children are trapped in a cave up along the hill.’

With a gasp, the fellow doing guard duty threw open the door. The smell of smoke clung to the boy as he pushed his way past the man. ‘Ring the bell; sound the alarm,’ Will said, turning back once, his eyes wide in his smoke-grimed face.

The sound of the North Gate’s large brass bell ringing out its call over the sleepy town followed Will’s footsteps as he ran toward the Inn. The cry of ‘Fire! Fire at the North Gate!’ rang out in the clear dawn air. Lights appeared at windows, people wrapped in shawls and just roused from their warm beds came out into the streets as the bells and cries from the other gatekeepers picked up the urgent call.

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

Berilac was up already. His usual morning routine was to walk the hedge from east to west. Repairs had all been done, leaving only those holes in the North end where the Mayor was hoping to spring a trap on the ruffians.

His heart raced as the first peals from the North Gate’s bell rang out. ‘Are they here so soon?!’ he thought grimly, sprinting toward the sound. Not the bandits, he heard. Worse, it was a fire! Not in the confines of the hedge, he noted, scanning the northwest side of Bree. But now, with the sun rising, he could see the rising curtain of smoke, turning the early light red.

He turned up a street, toward the Town Hall. The general alarm bell was now sending out it’s big booming notes from the tower. He could see others, their clothes thrown on hastily, also heading there to see what would be organized. At a cross-street he ran into someone in his haste, almost knocking the person over. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, reaching out his hand to steady Will. Lilly raised her tired, frightened face from Will’s shoulder and looked at the Ranger.

‘Fire,’ gasped out Will, shifting Lily’s weight on his back. ‘Some of the children sneaked out last night. They were taking the Inn’s conies to the northern caves in the hillside. I was following them. But the fire started and I couldn’t get to them. It blocks their way out of the cave.’ He stopped an took a ragged breath. ‘Willofain was there – she’s gone to the Mayor. I’ve brought Lily back; she’s hurt her leg.’

‘The other children,’ said Berilac, in a tight, quiet voice, ‘who were they?’

‘I couldn’t make them all out. Kari was there, and Rollo and Randy. Edmund too , I think.’ Lily’s thin voice filled in, ‘Hamson and Pearl went with us. And Fippi. And Kali, too.’

‘Take Lily to the Inn, Will. Have Andreth fix her up. Her folk will probably gather there.’ He took in Will with a look of concern. ‘And you too. Rest a bit, and see to any hurts you’ve got. Let your folks know you’re alright, then you and your brothers and Da need to come to the Town Hall. We’ll need all the hands we can muster.’ Will nodded to Berilac and made to turn up the path to the Inn. The Ranger stopped him with a hand on his arm. ‘You’ve done well, lad. Now hurry on!’

For a brief moment, Berilac watched the boy run doggedly toward the Inn; then ran quickly toward the Town Hall himself. ‘By the One!’ he muttered to himself as his feet sped over the packed earth. Kali and the others were trapped in the cave. His thoughts ran as fast as his feet, thinking how they could be gotten out safely.

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

The Mayor was there as Berilac knew he would be. A growing crowd of Big and Little Folk gathered round him. The Ranger waited as Harald organised the men into fire-fighting teams. At a break in the action, he approached him with his ideas on how the children might be gotten out safely . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:28 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Orofaniel's post- Rosie

“Hedgar?” Rosie said as she got up from her bed. She could see that her husband had already gotten up. This was odd, she admitted to herself. She was the first one up usually, but after Hedgar’s behaviour yesterday, everything could be possible, right? She dressed quickly, and hurried over to the kitchen. She was expecting that Hedgar would sit there, whether drinking his tea, or eating his breakfast…Who know, maybe both things at the same time, but no, not this morning. Rosie glimpsed the empty table, and shrugged. What was Hedgar up to now? She thought suspiciously. Maybe he’d gone out to the mills earlier, but Rosie doubted that. She gave a short sigh and went into Fippi’s room.

To her amazement she couldn’t find Fippi either. But the thing that shook her mostly was that his bed showed no sign of someone ever sleeping in it that night. Rosie gasped. Where were they?!? Rosie straightened up; maybe Fippi was playing a silly trick on her. She smiled to herself and bowed to se under his bed. But no, there was no Fippi there either. This particularly made her a bit anxious and nervous about the whole situation. She couldn’t find her son, nor husband! Something was going on! The feeling of that something terrible had happened to them crept over her like an

She wondered if she would go out to the fields, over to the mills and se if they were there. But as she looked through the windows, she could see that there was no movement what so ever. She was becoming poor on good ideas….what could she do, but wait? But, Rosie has never really been a person who waits, she always has to act. If not, she’ll go mad.

Without really thinking, she took her coat, and went out. She closed the door as she felt the win blow in her face. “I’ll run down to the Town Hall…” She said to herself and ran. Her hobbit feet carried her as fast as they could, but after a little while she could feel that she was almost out of breath. She stopped running, and walked quickly instead. As she walked she could feel the slight of wariness taking over her. She couldn’t help thinking that something had happened to the two persons she loved the most. It was unbearable.

When she reached the Town Hall she saw Berilac. She hurried over to him, to see if he knew anything of Hedgar and Fippi. “Hello, Berilac.” Rosie said politely as he turned is head towards her.

He didn’t even get to greet her before Rosie’s mouth was flooding words that were jumbled sentences.

“I c-can’t…Have you…seen Hedgar? And Fippi? Couldn’t…find them…this morning, I couldn’t find them.” Rosie blurted out. “Have you seen them?” She asked again, this time trying to specify what she was wondering about.

"Rosie..." He started, while he sighed. "I've ill news." he continued. Rosie looked at him with great eyes. "Ill news?" she repeated, while her eyes turned blank. What had happened to her sweet boy? And Hedgar? “Tell me!” Rosie demanded as she saw that Berilac was looking gravely at her. “Well, Fippi…your son is trapped in one of the caves with some of the other children from school.” He said and looked at her anxiously. “What?!?” Rosie exclaimed horrified over the news. “He is trapped in….a-a cave?!?” She repeated. The poor woman had difficulties to understand what had happened so Berliac had to support her, by taking her hand. “It’ll be…alright.” He said, but it didn’t seem too convincing.

“So, what do we do?!” Rosie said while tears were streaming down her face…”A-and what about....Hedgar?” She continued. She was looking even more anxious now.

"No, I haven't heard nor seen Hedgar, I'm afraid." Berilac said, looking surprised over the question that Hedgar was gone "missing" as well. "Have you checked at the...Inn?" He asked looking at her, now seeming as anxious as Rosie.

"No..." Rosie stammered. "But I have to get my boy first," She said again. She breathed heavily and tears were still popping out from her red eyes.

"Yes, of course." He said in a comforting voice. "Lets go and talk to the others.....” he suggested as he led the way.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:37 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth:

As the great brass bell sounded its alarm over the town, Andreth lookd knowingly at Hedgar, a gaze of apprehension passing silently between them. Yet they said nothing, afraid to put their fear in words. In a matter of seconds, their reflections were interrupted by a series of frantic knocks on the front door of the Pony. The Innkeeper hurried down the corridor with Hedgar at her side, and quickly undid the latch, pushing the door wide open. She was shocked and amazed to be staring at Will Farroweed, who held a crying hobbit child in his arms. All thoughts of their prior disagreement vanished as she gently took Lily from the lad's embrace and carried her into the Common Room.

By now, all the guests and staff of the Inn were awake and had come down to find out what was happening. Andreth listened to Will's story about how he'd found the children rescuing the rabbits and afterwards watched helpless as the fire swept down the hill, trapping the little ones in the cave. Andreth gave one sob of desperation clinging to Hedgar's arm, but then stood upright and forced herself to think clearly. The townspeople could do nothing to help my husband. He was all alone when the bandits attacked him, but perhaps we can find a way to help these children. Cool heads would be needed if there was any hope of rescue.

Barking orders at Cook to gather needed supplies, she asked the maids to bring down a mattress and bedding to make the hobbit more comfortable. Gently removing Lily's shoe, Andreth looked hard at her leg. A sprain or a break? It was hard to say. Andreth could deal with simple injuries, but she was no expert in healing or herbs.

Uncertain what she should do to help Lily, the Innkeeper glanced up and, to her surprise, saw the calm and familiar face of Lilac staring back at her. The old woman walked over and awkwardly got to her knees, her fingers gently probing the hobbit girl's injured limb. All the while she talked gently to the lass, explaining that her family would be here soon.

"You came? I thought you did not agree with what's happening."

Lilac smiled sadly, "That I don't, but neighbors are neighbors, and the children are in need."

Lilac nodded to Andreth, "Go on now. Get out of here. Go down with the other parents who are meeting with Berilac. I'll take care of Lily and set up some makeshift beds in case more than one child needs help. And I'll make sure the guests in the Inn are attended to as well."

Andreth hesitated for a moment. "But the Inn...."

"Forget the Inn. Go find your son. You have good staff here, and I'll help direct them, just as I did when you were younger."

Andreth leaned over and gently touched Lilac's grey curls, "Thank you so very much. How can I ever repay you?"

Lilac looked up and smiled, "When you return with your son safe, we'll discuss that. But, for now, go... You have a job to do."

As she and Hedgar walked over to the door, leaving the Inn to meet with Berilac, a loud cheer went up from the assembled guests and staff, with encouraging shouts of "Good luck" and "We'll git 'em" and "We're in this together now".

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:36 PM January 17, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Chathol-linn -- Harald

Harald’s first breathless stop was the Town Hall. It was a fortunate location - most of the way down town and not too far from the Pony. The Captain of Guards was already there, as were many of the townsfolk, Big and Little, resident and guest, who had been roused from their beds by the alarm. Harald could see Berilac the Hobbit Ranger running full speed up the street.

Behind the Town Hall, Bree kept a shed and in it they had fire fighting tools, for fires were a deadly menace whether in heat of summer, drought of fall, or cold of winter when every fireplace was roaring. The Breelanders all knew this and had taken precautions.

“We are lucky that many of our roofs are made of slate, and our houses of stone,” said Telien.

“True,” said Harald. “But there is much that could burn. The Pony is close to the Hedge and is made of a lot of timber.”

“You might have to pull it down if the fire makes it to the Hedge,” said one of the town council members.

“I will if I have to,” said Harald, thinking of a time a hundred years ago when, his Mum had told him, a Mayor had refused to do just that, and Bree had burnt to the ground. They still called that one ‘the fool mayor.’ “But let us make sure we do not have to.”

Harald jumped to the top of the steps that led to the Hall. “Breelanders All! I call on you to fight this new threat of fire. I need three heads of household from the lower town, now! And someone from the Prancing Pony. Ban, it is you.”

A goodwife and huge Uther of the Big Folk stepped forward, together with Elmerith, Telien’s second in command. Ban from the Pony came too, looking as if he were dreaming or wished he were. The smell of smoke came on the morning breeze, and the crackle of fire sounded like a battle. The sun rose red in the sky.

“After all our work to repair it, that Hedge is not coming down,” Harald told them. To the four he had called forth he said, “Each of you – get ten of your folk and make a bucket brigade line from each of the downtown cisterns to the Hedge. Portion out the Hedge and wet it down. Don’t stop. Thank all the powers that be for the heavy rain we had a while back. The wells and cisterns are full.”

Dantha arrived, panting. “What can I do, Harald?”

“Go in the shed, get the buckets, and pile them in four piles in front of the cisterns.” Dantha ran to the shed and found the buckets. There were other, more ominous tools there: axes, ladders, hooks, chains. But she kept up her courage and grabbed buckets by the handles, and brought them out to the cisterns.

“We need more hands, Harald!” she shouted over the roar of crowd and flame. “If the fire crosses the Hedge, we will be open to any bandit on the East Road or the Greenway!”

“Worse,” said Telien. “If it hits the smith shop next to the Pony, the charcoal will burn hot enough to melt all the iron in Bree.”

“I will get the lads and lasses,” said Dantha, and she dashed away. Soon she returned with at least two dozen youths and maids, and then the bucket brigades went faster.

Harald was thinking of taking a calm breath when he saw Berilac pushing toward the Town Hall steps.

“The children in the cave!” he was shouting. “What about the children!”

“Oh, no,” said Harald. “I forgot Willofain’s message. Telien! Open the North Gates. Get them wetted down. See to Berilac – he knows where they are!”

Then Harald abandoned forever any reservations he might have had about the Little Folk. He turned to the Hobbit Ranger.

“Berilac, Bree is already in your debt for your help on the Hedge. While you’re looking out for the youngsters, might the other Hobbits try their hand at fire-fighting? I've seen Hobbits stamp out a fire with bare feet.”

A burning branch separated from its burning tree and landed wind-borne on the street in front of them. There it lay as a symbol of all the rancor and trouble that had separated the two folk, and it was Harald who held his breath and waited.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:48 AM January 14, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

The Little Folk step forward . . .

The crackle of the burning limb grew loud in the ensuing silence. Some of the Hobbits who had heard the Mayor speak shuffled nervously, casting their eyes at their fellows, waiting for someone to make the move.

A deep voice boomed out to the left of the Mayor. A Hobbit standing very near Harald as he spoke to Berilac had heard the question posed to the Hobbit Ranger. ‘Well, now, I can’t speak for all us Hobbits, Yer Honor, but I can say I’d like to offer my services.’

Elfrid, the iron worker whose hands had forged the metal bracings for the new North Gate stepped forward. He was a massive man, thickset, with the big muscles of one who wields the hammer and tongs and bends metal to his will. ‘My lads and I will lend our labors to those of the other good folk.'

‘Aye,’ chimed another doughty Hobbit, taking his place beside Elfrid. ‘And you’ll see my sons and I at his side.’ It was Sammael the lumberman, whose hands had planed the thick oak for the new northern gate. His three hearty sons followed close behind him, axes in hand. ‘We’ll not want to see our handiwork destroyed by flames,’ said Sammael, leaning on his own great ax. ‘We’ll push the brush back from along the dike along the northern edge, and others can follow along with shovels leaving only a wide path of dirt – few flames will leap the fire break unless they wind pushes sparks across to the hedge. And with you Men keeping the Hedge wetted down, that shouldn’t prove a problem.

‘We’ll come,’ cried Berilac’s brothers-in-law, Griffo and Tomlin, shovels in hand, motioning folk to come gather round them. When they had heard the alarm, they had grabbed shovels and buckets from the nearby shed in the Inn, just as they would have done should fire threaten their holding or their neighbors’ in Staddle.

‘Yes! And we’ll join the bucket brigade cried their wives, Britnie and Goldie. Soon, most of the Little Folk of Bree proper and the outlying districts had stepped forth to volunteer. The bucket brigade had swelled from four lines to seven with the addition of the Hobbits, with the Little Folk manning the first parts of the lines, letting the taller folk swing their buckets high to wet the top of the Hedge. Several new lines were formed, too, to wet down the nearby roofs.

Rosco Woodfarer, Berilac's brother, stepped forward, his own shovel in hand, last of all. The branch still burnt, though the flames were dieing down a bit. At its heart were beginning to glow the wavering orange embers that would prove dangerous were the wind to pick them up and blow them to the thatched and wooden shingled roofs of Bree. Rosco motioned for one of the lasses to dump a bucket of water on the branch, then he covered it with a few shovelfuls of dirt to quench its heat.

‘We’re with you, Mayor. It’s our home, too,’ he said, methodically piling the dirt on the branch. ‘And just so you know, we’ll be using the same tools as you bigger folk . . . not our feet . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 11:52 PM January 11, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

A covey of frightened parents crowded in around Berilac. He had gone round the crowd as the Hobbits and mayor spoke, contacting each of the parents whose child was now trapped in the cave. Andreth was there, her face grim as she waited for the Ranger to speak. Hedgar and Rosie stood close together, their knuckles white as they clenched the other’s hand. Bettina Butterbur stood near Andreth, gone pale with the worry over her two sons. Mausi was there also, eyes dry, but red rimmed. Mondy and Ella clinging tight to her. To the side stood Everard and Delphina, thin lipped, their faces etched with worry over Pearl and Hamson. Poppy stood with them, holding the drowsing Lily in her arms. And pacing, like a large angry bear, was Alvinac.

Berilac spoke in a low clear voice to the worried parents, explaining what the children had done that night, and where they were now. ‘I have an idea of where the cave is,’ he told them. ‘I’ve seen it when I scouted the area, but I know nothing about it.’ He looked round the small, tense group. ‘Who can tell me more about it?’

The Hobbits all shook their heads. They were relative newcomers to Bree and none had ventured far beyond their own little houses and gardens. None of the Big Folk could add much either. It was Mausi, her head bent low, speaking with her children, who offered a small spark of hope to the dejected group. ‘Go on,’ she gently urged Mondy, leading him by the hand to where Berilac stood. ‘Tell him what you know.’

Berilac crouched down to be eye to eye with the boy, and spoke softly to him. Mondy’s lower lip trembled, and tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. ‘I should have known,’ the boy said in a ragged voice. ‘I . . .’

‘No use going down that road.’ Berilac reached up and wiped away Mondy’s tears. ‘You can help him now. Just tell me about the cave.’

Mondy had been to the cave with his brother. The entrance was low at first but the chamber was wide and the height of the roof increased the farther back one went. There were also two little side chambers not far from the entrance on the left as one entered. Neither of them led back to the outside, but the furthest one had a crack in it, and fresh air flowed into the cave from it. Several tall, large, leafy evergreen bushes grew in front of the cave, obscuring the entrance from anyone passing by. ‘We made a little passage between the bushes and the side of the hill when we first spied it out, so we could get in more easily.’ The boy’s voice grew stronger as Berilac urged him on. No, there were no other ways into the Inn. Yes, Kali would be smart enough to remember the little chamber that had fresh air. No, there was no water in the cave.

A glimmer of hope registered in the Ranger’s expression as Mondy described how the brow of the hill dipped down in the area, and the slight overhang above the entrance to the cave was maybe twice the height of the North Gate. Twenty-five feet, he thought to himself. And better yet, the ground just above the cave had a number of rocky outcroppings. When Mondy had finished, Berilac clapped him on the shoulder, saying he’d been of great help.

He stood up and motioned the group closer. ‘I’ve an idea now how we can get to them,’ he said to the expectant ring of faces. ‘We’ll need four long lengths of rope, two of those big sturdy storage baskets from the granary, four large skins of water, and a large stack of handkerchiefs – or better yet, Andreth – a stack of those big cloth napkins from the Inn.’

The Big and Little Folk were dispatched to fetch the needed items, returning with great speed to the bottom of the path that led up to the top of the Hill from the town. Fear spurred them on as they all hastened up the path and then west along the brim of the hill, pulling along behind them the small cart that carried their equipment. Mondy led the way with Berilac, pointing excitedly as the familiar rocks hove into sight.

The view from this point was frightening and did nothing to bring assurance to the anguished parents. Smoke from the fire hung like a thick blanket over the area, and flames crackled through the limbs of the trees in the area below.

‘Take your places,’ he told the group. ‘Like we discussed on the way up here.’

Andreth pulled out the napkins and began wetting them with water from one of the water skins. She and Mausi handed them round, and all tied them over their mouth and noses. Alvinac, Everard, Bettina,Rosie, and Delphina uncoiled the ropes as he asked. Mondy and Ella dragged one of the baskets to the edge of the hill, while Hedgar brought the other. The Big and Little folk worked together quietly and quickly. When all was assembled to his satisfaction, Berilac gathered them round and went carefully over the final instructions once more . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:39 PM January 12, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac and Hedgar peered over the edge of the hill brow, down to the entrance of the cave below. The scrubby shrubs that grew in front of the opening left about a three foot space for them to work in. They had not yet caught fire, but around them the grass and leaves smoldered.

‘It’s a tight squeeze,’ said Hedgar eyeing the width of the baskets they’d brought and the distance from hillside to shrub.

The side of the hill was for the most part hard-packed earth with only a few protruding stones. ‘At least it will be easy for us getting the baskets down,’ returned Berilac, standing up and waving the others near. ‘Alvinac, Everard, and you, Hedgar – take hold of a rope each. And you Andreth, with Mausi – you’ll handle the last rope.’ He put them in position, then secured a rope each to the two handles on each side of the large, deep rectangular baskets.

He and Rosie placed a waterskin each in the bottom of the baskets and a small stack of the linen napkins; then carefully lowered the two baskets just barely over the edge, while the others took up the slack on the rope.

‘Hold tight,’ he instructed the rope holders, as he and Rosie climbed into the baskets, and crouched down. ‘Now lower us down slowly. And you Bettina and Delphina get read to fetch the children out as we send them up.’

The ride was a bumpy one as the basket side caromed off the jutting rocks and bounced against the hillside. As soon as they were down Berilac and Rosie climbed out of the baskets and hastened into the cave with the waterskins and the napkins. The children were easily found, calling out a loud, ‘We’re here!’ amidst coughs and sneezes. Berilac wet the napkins and Rosie tied them round the children’s noses and mouths. Two at a time, they sent them up to the hilltop, helping them into the baskets and telling them to lie very still in the bottom until someone helped them out at the top.

All went well until the last two were to go up. Edmund and Kali dug their heels in stubbornly, saying they would not move until the bunnies went up. ‘Hurry, then,’ said Berilac in an urgent voice. ‘The fire is coming near.’ The cages of bunnies were stacked into the baskets and sent up.

When the baskets returned Berilac ordered Rosie and Kali into one and Edmund into the other. A sharp yank on the ropes and up they went. The wind had picked up and the flames now licked at the bushes in front of the cave entrance. Finding fresh fuel, they leapt up, stretching to touch the bottoms of the retreating baskets.

When Rosie and the boys were helped out, Rosie yelled for Alvinac and Hedgar to lower the basket for Berilac. But Andreth, who had run over to embrace her son, peered over the edge as they made to lower their ropes for the last time. ‘It’s all on fire now,' she yelled back to them, seeing the flames rushing in to hug the edge of the hill. ‘The way is blocked . . .’

[Child of the 7th Age]

Guthwine

It was close to sunrise when Guthwine and his campanions made it back to the camp. Even from half a mile away, they could hear the racket in the forest that heralded the arrival of some eight hundred refugees from the Weather Hills.

The men quickened the pace of their ponies, and pushed their way through the throngs of travellers, coming to the center of the encampment. Those who'd been spying in Bree dropped the lead reins of their horses and ran forward through the crowd searching for friends, kinsmen, and neighbors they had known. The small group of scouts was instantly engulfed by familiar faces, men and women rushing up to them with outstretched arms and exclamations of joy.

Rudgar ran to slay and clean two of the goats, and set them up on a spit over the fire to roast. No use waiting till evening for a hearty meal. It may be morning, but these folks were hungry. For many, it had been weeks and months since they'd last enjoyed a piece of meat. Within a short time, the smell of roasting meat wafted over the campsite. Friends and family broke off in small groups, and set up their bedrolls and belongings at the edge of camp.

Guthwine had been racing about, trying to make preparations for the newcomers. With so many hundreds of folk, it was not always easy to find the particular folk who hailed from your village and family. But his attention was abruptly drawn back by a small hand tugging on his sleeve and the sound of a girlish voice, "Daddy, daddy! It's us. Mama and Ian and I, we're here." Guthwine turned to face his family as they rushed into his arms.

It was the finest day that they'd had since they came to the encampment. Voices were raised in song and platters of meat consumed as the sun made its way up over the encampment. Guthwine ran over to Lotar's tent, a smile beaming on this face, as he raced in with all previous discords forgotten, at least for the moment. He took Lotar by the shoulder and beamed, "If we can but capture the city, it will be like this every day. We will have a place of our own, one where we can find some peace and start a new life. This afternoon, let's start work on our plans for the assault on the city. I've brought more supplies for the refugees and information on the weapons and defenses that will await us there."

Guthwine turned around and grinned broadly at Lotar, "Give me just three days for this pack of travellers to rest and train for the siege. On the morning of the fourth day, or perhaps under the cover of night, we will be ready to attack."

[Child of the 7th Age]

Arestevana's and Eruantalon's joint post for Kirima and Rudgar:

After walking for such a long time the camp almost seemed welcoming to Rudgar. He almost felt like it was a new home. He had gotten so settled into the half of the camp where the rest of the bandits were. Now he was walking along the edge of the two camps. Seeing how many people had arrived and just looking around.

There were some new faces, and some old ones too. He found a feeling he had not felt since he was a child. He felt sadness well up inside of him. It hit him now more than any time before. Life had changed so much since he started working with these bandits. He was searching for fortune and he thought that would make him happy. Looking around the camp, if he had the money right then and there, he would want nothing more than to help those people around him.

Still all he could do was to try and help them. Yet what kind of help was he really? Bring all the bandits that were as shaggy and dangerous as a long unfed dog. Somehow, someway, Rudgar had changed when he least expected it. The change was small but it grew over time. All his life he'd wandered with out a single friend.

While he walked along, he saw Kirima sitting at the edge of the two camps. He remembered how she had been the only nice one to him the whole time that he was there.


Kirima was sitting by herself and happily watching the camps members talk. She saw Rudgar walking nearby. He came over and sat down next to her. They talked for a while, and Kirima pointed out some of the newcomers that she knew.

"That's Soran's sister Laira and her children," she said. "And over there is Elias, who folk often call Old Elias. He'll most likely be leading when we go to Bree..." She trailed off, happiness fleeing at the dark subject.

“Kirima, You seem so sad. I know how you feel….. It’s drawing near. I can steal a chicken from a farmer. I don’t think I know what to do to steal a whole town from a people. A chicken is just a meal. It’s not a person’s whole life. I don’t know what I’m doing here or what is going to happen. You seem to be going through the same thing?”

Kirima nodded. "Yes, it is hard for me to attack the town. It seems too much like what was done to us," She gestured at the campsite. "But this is what we must do, is it not? If we do not win this town, winter will take us. We will freeze if we do not starve first. I'm sure many of these folk have thought the same as we, that mayhap we should leave the Breefolk alone, but we are still here. Is there any other choice?"

Rudgar knew that what was said was the truth. He looked at all the people around him. He knew that all these people needed help in this dire time. “Yes that’s true, but there has to be a better way. I know there has to be. I just can’t find it right now. By the time a better way would be found. Every one here would die from the winter freeze.”

Seeing the young children run past him he felt his heart break. Now even more, than ever before. Because he knew what it felt like to be so small and alone.

“Maybe we can help find a better way? My mind is sharp and nimble. But it doesn’t work well alone. Maybe we can think up a better way Kirima? If we don’t then at least they have the course there taking now. Either way it’s still good to talk to a friend again” Rudgar smiled when he finally said this.

Kirima nodded sadly. "Yes, there should be another way." she said. "But we cannot talk to the Breefolk. They may be like the evil raiders who came to burn our villagers, or they may be honest people. If they are evil, they will not help us, merely drive us out again. And if they are honest folk, they will trust us little more. They believe that we are bandits, and they are correct. We steal, we raid farmhouses, and we are going to attack their town. Why should they treat with us?" She shook her head and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, then smiled at Rudgar. "Yes, it is good to talk to a friend. Come, forget these gloomy thoughts." Kirima gestured around the campsite. "Let me introduce you to some of these fine folk."


“That does sound like a good way to spend the rest of the day. I would like to meet some of these people? Maybe I can make a few more friends here? Let's go Kirima. That sounds like a fine idea.” The two got up now and made there way off to meet the rest of the camp. Talking to lots of new faces and people. Rudgar felt more at home on this side of camp than anywhere before.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:42 PM January 17, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth:

Andreth leaned over the edge and looked down in horror. Everywhere flames were beginning to catch hold and shoot upward, blocking the exit from the cave. Despite her joy at the childrens' arrival and the fact that Edmund had been rescued, she refused to believe the stark reality of what was happening. Although not even a citizen of Bree, Berilac had given and done more for their safety than any other person in the town. She no longer thought of Berilac as simply "a hobbit"; she considered him to be one of the bravest and smartest defenders of the town. To have him perish in this fire was unthinkable, both because she cared what happened to him and it was important that their city be defended by the best.

She barked at the other parents who were reuniting with their children, "Hurry! Berilac is trapped. Run back to the north gate. Bring several cauldrons of water as fast as you can." Andreth desperately reasoned that they did not have to beat back the entire conflagration; they merely had to clear a path directly in front of the cave.

The noise and tumult of the scene had been so heart that no one had noticed what was going on in the background for the past half hour. Thick grey clouds now crowded the skies, while rumbling noises sounded in the background. It was Kali who was the first to catch a raindrop in his outstretched hand, crying out excitedly, "Mama, Andreth, it's starting to rain!"

Mausi looked up in surprise and responded, "Kali, you're right!"

The first stray drops gave way to a heavy sheet of rain that plummetted down like a thick curtain, blowing in from the west against the mouth of the cave. For a moment, it looked as if there was a battle between the burning grass and the ongoing assault of water. Slowly, slowly, the flames slackened and pulled back a little from the entry to the cave.

By this time, the others had arrived with their cauldrons, and she had them dump the water down to slacken the flames still further, all the time crying out to Berilac to get in the basket that was now being lowered to him. But there was no response to her cries. Frantic with fear, Andreth grabbed Will by the arm. "Go down, and bring him up. The smoke has overcome him."

Will maneuvered his body into the basket as the ropes were lowered again. I pray it holds the both of them! Andreth pleaded to the skies. Within a few seconds, Will had gathered Berilac in his arms and rudely jerked him inside, as the basket made its way up one last time.

"He's alright. Just dazed and stunned," Will called out as the basket reached the top and Andreth and the others hauled Berilac out by the breeches. The hobbit came tumbling over on his side, coughing and hacking his way up to consciousness.

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

Within the space of an hour, everyone had scrambled down from the hillside and made their way through the downpour to the north gate and back into their houses....

The town was quiet that morning, with many of the parents and children returning to their beds. By mid-day, when Andreth was serving lunch at the Inn, Guy the Peddler wandered into the Inn and sat down, sharing a piece of unthinkable news. He'd been cutting down from the far northeast of Breeland early that morning, and seen a huge gathering of hundreds of men and women setting up a large encampment. Many of the travellers were heavily armed, carrying bows and spears and daggers; others rode on swift horses that were covered with thick leather padding generally used to protect beasts in battle.

Guy had been able to mingle with the crowd fairly easily, since it was so large that a stranger did not stand out. He'd heard folk talking about how they would soon have a home in Bree, and that the attack would not be long in coming. Then he had turned, slipped out of the camp, and fled back to the city.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:07 PM January 16, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

The air was still heavy with the promise of more rain that afternoon as Berilac made his way to the Inn. Mausi and Rosco had begged him to stay at Mausi’s house. ‘Rest, Berilac,’ they had told him in a dozen different ways when they had returned home. ‘The fire is out; the town safe. Relax for a while.’

And he did rest . . . for a while. But something niggled at the back of his mind. What if the fire had not started accidentally? What if the outlander Big Folk had set it deliberately? It would be the type of diversion they might use if they wished to draw attention away from there point of attack. Draw all the townsfolk to one end of Bree and slip in armed at the other. Thoughts tumbled, one over the other, as he left the little family sleeping in their bedrooms and crept past his brother who snored on the couch.

The Inn’s business was just starting to pickup when he entered and slid into a booth. The door banged open just after he’d sat down, letting in a gust of wind and wet leaves trail in behind the entrant. It was Mungo! Lily’s stand-in grampa. The old fellow took off his cloak and twitched the raindrops off it carefully in the small entryway, then hung it on a hook along with his felt hat. Berilac hailed him, motioning at the serving girl to bring another half pint of stout for his friend.

They fell to talking of Will and the fortunate end of the fire – a conversation which lasted well into a second mug of the Pony’s fine ale. One of Mungo’s old cronies spotted them and toddled over, already well into Pony’s prizewinning brew. Introductions were made; then, Elfrid motioned the other two to lean close over the table.

‘Guy was here today,’ he whispered in a conspiratorial tone. Berilac looked at Mungo and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Traveling man, peddler,’ the Hobbit said quickly then urged Elfrid to go on. Guy was a frequent source of fresh news from the outside.

Berilac’s level of alarm climbed as Elfrid related what he had overheard. ‘I knew it!’ he thought, as the man continued on. ‘The Bandits are massing their troops. The fire was just a test to see how we would respond. The Mayor and the captain must hear of this. We need to be ready and soon.’ He waited until Elfrid had finished speaking and then excused himself. ‘You two lads have another on me,’ he said, putting a few coins on the table. ‘I’ve got a little business to take care of.’

Mungo nodded and smiled as the Ranger left the table. Elfrid, on the other hand, had already called over the server and exchanged his empty mug for a full and foaming one.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:12 PM January 16, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tara's post for Lotar and Kandel

Lotar had been staring at Feanwe's hair clip, stirring memories in his mind. The refugee's had come into the camp, and their faces brought him naught but pain. It reminded him of the family he had lost, and his grief could not seem to be any more full.

He heard movement, and heard Guthwine's voice talking behind him.

"Give me just three days for this pack of travellers to rest and train for the siege. On the morning of the fourth day, or perhaps under the cover of night, we will be ready to attack."

Lotar had given up on strategy and war, he simply wanted contentment. For a miraculous moment, his temper did not flare

'Guthwine, you are a man of war. You make your plans. I will follow them if I see fit to do so. I want no more a part. I am tired. And you are blind to your predicament. I think there may be another way, but you will not have it. So have your War.

Lotar sat down, and stared at the sheet of his tent.

~*~

Kandel sifted his way through the camp, and saw Guthwine leave his fathers tent. He stepped in and bowed

'Naught has changed. Bree's defenses are still coming up, and the people are still in slight confusion. What did Guthwine say?'

'He wants his War boy, and I have snapped. I do not know what to do'

Kandel sat by his father and looked at him 'All will be well. Whatever happens, all will sort itself out' Kandel grinned. With that, he stood up and said 'Im out for a quick walk. I want to see if I can find anyone I know' Lotar waved him off quickly

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

Child's post for Andreth, Edmund, and Lilac:

Taking a needed rest from the hectic pace of the day, Andreth was sitting on a soft chair in the family parlor, with Edmund nestled on her lap. It felt so good to have him home again. She leaned closer, speaking softly, "Promise not to do that. You can't run off without letting someone know, especially outside the gates. Otherwise, I may not be able to find you the next time there's trouble."

Edmund gazed up and met his mother's eyes, solemnly nodding his head. Then he smiled and glanced over at the three conies who were again back in their hutches. Much to Edmund's delight, the hutches had been moved from the outside pen to the corner of the parlor and set down on top of an old nursery rug. This seemed like a a safe and protected spot where not even Cook could threaten them with her cleaver.

After everything Edmund had been through, his mother had found it hard to punish him. Besides, the bad memories of the fire and the sight of his friends coughing and crying would be punishment enough to keep him from making the same mistake again. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle wrapping on the door. Andreth looked up to see Lilac walk inside. The older woman extended her arms in greeting and offered a warm hug, expressing her relief that everything had turned out so well, "How happy I am to see you together. All the children safe at home with no more than a few cuts and bruises." For several minutes, the two women exchanged news, discussing all the things that people had done to rescue the children and keep the fire from spreading.

Lilac looked slyly over towards her companion. She had known Andreth even as a girl, and had a good idea how to make her sit up and listen. "That Will Farroweed was amazing!" the older woman pointed out. "Without his warning, all our efforts would have been too late. It's a good thing folks were willing to give him a second chance, especially with all his earlier shenanigans!"

"I guess you're right, Lilac," Andreth agreed. "It took a while to see what a decent person Will could be."

"That's often the case," Lilac observed. "If you give folk a chance, sometime they surprise you." The older woman hesitated for a moment and then continued on, "Take those so-called outlaws. They've had a surprise or two up their sleeve for us, and I suspect they may have more."

"A 'surprise'?" echoed Andreth. "The only surprise I expect from those ruffians is a dagger between my ribs!"

"Are you sure, Andreth? All those attacks on the farmhouses, the looting and stealing, but not a single person hurt or killed.... Hobbits and men sent scampering out at midnight in their nightshirts, without a single weapon... It would have been easy to take aim with their bows and place a few arrows in the backs of the men they'd robbed. Their job would have been easier, and we would have been even more frightened of them."

Andreth looked up and stared at Lilac. She had not thought of things in that way. But the older woman had a point. The raids had been going on for weeks, and no one had been hurt.

"There's something else, too," Lilac observed. You know that Guy wasn't alone? His daughter Fern was with him, and her story sounds just a little different. She says it wasn't all young fighting men. The glade was filled with mothers toting babes, and small children running about and playing. And there were old folk on crutches, along with others who were still recovering from the wounds they'd gotten from the Orcs."

Lilac glared over at Andreth, "That doesn't sound like your typical army to me!"

Andreth gazed suspiciously back at her friend and sighed, "Alright, Lilac, I'll listen. Exactly what do you have in mind?"

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

One hour later, Andreth and Lilac went to the stables and took out two horses, saddling them up and heading out the north gate in the general direction of Archet.

"You'll keep your promises, Lilac?" Andreth wagged a finger and sounded stern. "I won't go on this foolhardy errand otherwise."

Lilac nodded her head in agreement, "We'll stay out of sight and just have a little look. No harm in looking, is there?"

"I guess not. With all those hundreds of people up there, no one should be upset even if they noticed us, as long as we're careful to stay calm and act like everyone else. And I do have my bow with me." She looked down for reassurance. I must be foolish to even consider doing this. Andreth ruefully mused. Yet, Lilac had been very convincing, especially when she talked about all the children who might be killed. And how would Andreth feel if one of those children had been her own son?

Yet, the Innkeeper had to admit there was a certain irony in this situation. She had just lectured her son on letting people know where he was going and pleaded with him to stay out of dangerous situations. Now she was turning around and doing exactly what she'd told him not to do.

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

The women guided their horses towards Archet and, once they had cleared the outskirts of the village, continued northeast through the forest. They had stopped for a moment in a quiet glade to take a short rest when Andreth, her eyes widening with fear, leaned forward and froze. Dead ahead of them, in the midst of a tangled thicket, she could hear the sound of someone approaching.

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

Tara's post for Kandel

~*~

Kandel sifted through the camp of people, looking for familiar faces. He had lost touch with many old friends that stayed there. After searching for a good while, he headed out into the trees with a shrug. He was so busy in reasoning with himself that he did not see two women in front of him, both with very startled expressions.

He looked at them carefully, and small grin played on his face. Their dress was too clean and fine to be from the refugees that had just come in, and they looked to healthy for that. Their tense movements also gave away their fear. Kandel relaxed a slight, finding a little hope in the fact they were yet to flee.

'Well, I can tell a few things from you both. One is that you are not of those from the Weather Hills. And the second is that you are here for a reason, and have not stumbled here by chance...'

'My name is Kandel, and my father is one that runs this group you call banditd, murderers, and savages. And what are your names?'

'We are here to see for ourselves what you are, we mean you no harm' said one, a brave and stern looking woman.

'And I do not doubt that at all,' Kandel said, not worrying that she did not answer his query. 'If you wish you may speak with my father on this. He is a man with a short fuse, but his heart is truer than you would put for a savage. What say you?

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:42 AM January 21, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

The Ranger’s mind was already turning over possibilities in his mind. If what the old man had told him was correct, then there was an almost inevitable possibility that the group from the north would attack and soon. He began making schedules in his head. The archers would need to be in position at all times, in shifts – as would the men who would drop the net. Gatekeepers would be shortened to four hour shifts and there should be two of them at each gate – young, brawny men if possible with steady composures.

He expected the attack to come from the north, but could not eliminate the possibility that the bandits would divide their now large number and attack on several fronts. There were buildings near the gates used by the merchants as small warehouses; he would have them cleared and garrisoned with men and older youth. Should the alarm come from one of the gatekeepers or one of the lookouts he planned to station on the roofs of some of the buildings along the perimeter of the town there would be troops ready for immediate response.

Passing one of the town wells, he ticked off another of the needs on his mental list. Buckets should be stacked by all the wells near the hedge. Should the bandits attempt to burn through the hedge there would be citizen brigades to deal with it.

And where was Minastan, he wondered. And why had there been no reports back from him about the increasing numbers?

His footsteps carried him to the town hall and up the stairs to the mayor’s office. He could hear the rumble of two voices through the partially opened door. Good! Telien and the Mayor were both there. Rapping lightly as he pushed the door open, Berilac stepped across the threshold.

‘Gentlemen,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘I’ve heard some disturbing news . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:52 PM January 20, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Orofaniel]

Rosie and family

The table was set; the plates with flowers were filled with delicious food. Hedgar had seated, and Fippi was about to enter the kitchen. His feet carried him over to his chair were he sigh in. Rosie seated next to him, clapping him on his shoulder. She had been so close of loosing him; it was horrible to think about. "Do never go anywhere Fippi, without telling me....first.." Rosie said as she passed the bread over to him. She looked with a stern look at Hedgar.

Yes, even though it had been in Hedgar's best intention, he had told her that Fippi was sick, not that he had run over to some...cave...somewhere. Rosie was still suspicious, even though Hedgar had explained to her that Fippi had told him that he was going to meet friends. Hedgar had then told that he was completely innocent, with no idea over that the boy had gone over to the cave to save some rabbits. "Dear son.." Rosie continued. "You were supposed to save the coneys...which is a nice thing to do, indeed, I only wish that it hadn’t ended up like this...all the parents so worried..."Rosie sighed and smiled at him.

"I'm so glad you're back, Fippi" she said at last and clapped him on his cheek. "I'm sorry, mom.." Fippi said looking down onto his plate. "Oh no, dear.." Rosie started, while she gazed. Fippi didn't have to apologise for anything. It was an accident..."You don't need to apologise Fippi." She said and looked at him. "You didn't mean to harm anyone. It was n accident." She said and smiled down. her cheeks were all red, and her eyes were looking widely at him.

"Sonny, just promise us that you tell us where you go next time...alright?" Hedgar asked and gave a short laugh. "It could have gone much worse than it did." he continued.

"Aye!" Fippi said, and smiled, and took a bite of his bread.

"I just hope the others are alright.." He said and gave a short sigh. Rosie laughed again. "Don’t worry Fippi dear. They’re all alright." She said. "All of 'em are probably home by now..." She muttered.

"Oh Fippi!" Rosie exclaimed. As she had leaned her head over, she had noticed a small cut on Fippi's underarm. It wasn't bleeding anymore, but it had to be cleaned before he would get any infections in it. "I'll help you with that afterwards" Rosie said and smiled again.

Hedgar had been quiet for a while. He seemed to be thinking about something, because when Rosie offered him a cup of tea, he only shook his head as he always did when he was disturbed. It had almost become a reflex to him.

"Hm? er..." Hedgar muttered afterwards.” You want some more tea?" Rosie asked again, a bit more impatient this time. "Yes, please....just half a cup.." Hedgar muttered again.

"What's on your mind dad?" Fippi asked. He had obviously noticed the same thing as Rosie had. "Er....nothing son." Hedgar said and sighed. "I'm just so glad you're home again, that's all." he continued smiling

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:21 AM January 21, 2004: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Telien’s head turned round to see who had spoken, then motioned the Ranger forward. ‘We’ve had reports in from the northern section of the hedge,’ he said, his finger running over the line on the map before him. ‘There was only minor scorching. Our efforts to keep the hedge wet proved effective.’ He tapped on the wide ditch that ran just outside the hedge. ‘I’ve already set several crews out here to clear away the burned limbs that fell here.’

The mayor turned the map round to where he sat at his desk. ‘One crisis over and well met,’ he said with a decisive tone, his features changing from those of a pleased nature to a questioning look as he glanced up at Berilac.

News had not reached the mayor’s office yet of what the peddler had seen and heard in his travels. The faces of both Telien and Harald grew grave as Berilac related what he had heard and what he thought about this bit of news. With his theory of the bandits and the fire, the two began to wonder just how fortunate the town had been.

‘This puts a new face on our good luck,’ said Harald. Telien agreed, frowning at the mention of the increased numbers of people from the north. ‘We have not heard from Minastan in a long while – do you suppose they have found him out, and he is held prisoner?’

‘Or worse,’ said Berilac. ‘I fear if they have found him out he is already dead.’ The Ranger positioned the map so that all could see it. The three bent their heads low over it, fingers pointing and voices low and edged with urgency.

By this evening, or tomorrow before the sun rose, the defenses would be set in place. First on the list would be the locking of all the gates at all times, Berilac insisted. Only those whose faces were known to the guards or could have a citizen of Bree fetched to vouch for them would be allowed in.

Telien was sent off to see to the securing of the upper perimeter along the top of the hill. Once done with that, he said he would call up the archers to be placed along the northern edge of the city, on the buildings there and see to the final placing of the net they had discussed.

The mayor called for his young assistant to come into the office. Big and Little Folk would man the lookout points along the Hedge. Harald handed the young man a list he had drawn up earlier of names and shift times. ‘Contact this section first,’ he instructed the man, ‘and get them sent out to the look-out towers. Then notify the others when they will need to show up.’ The young man nodded his head vigorously, clutching the list tightly. ‘Come back quickly, then,’ the mayor admonished him. ‘We’ll need to see to the bucket brigades. Off you go then,’ he said with a dismissive wave. Once he was gone, Berilac and the Mayor looked further at the defense plans, adjusting them as needed, planning for contingencies as they could.

By this afternoon, evening at the latest, Bree would be an armed camp . . .

[Novnarwen]

Hedgar

Hedgar looked at his son, Fippi. He was so relieved he was okay. Even though he felt guilty about Fippi going out at night and ending up in a fire, he told himself that it wasn't exactly his fault. He grinned as he took his hand roughly through his son's hair. Fippi looked up and smiled. He looked at Fippi again, but had difficulties holding his mask. His son had just asked him about what it was that was bothering him. EVERYTHING, Hedgar had wanted to exclaim. He had stopped himself in the very last moment, and said that he was fine, even though he knew so much better.

It was starting to get late, Hedgar had calmed down, but still getting small panic attacks now and then. Fippi had made his way to his room, his mother following, making sure he went to bed; for real this night. She sat on the bed, telling Fippi how much she cared for him and how happy she was that he was okay. Hedgar stood by the door, tripping. He pushed the door fully open and stepped inside. "Ehm, good night, sonny," he said, with a shaking voice. Fippi laughed, and asked him to come over.

"You don't have to be worried, papa," he assured Hedgar. "I'll never do such a thing ever again," he continued.

By these words he felt comforted and at last he managed to bend down and hug his boy. He held firmly about Fippi, hugging him tightly. He almost smashed the boy's head, and Rosie had to come to Fippi's 'rescue', when she saw that this had turned out to be a 'breathing-drama'.

The two of them smiled warmly at Fippi, as he made ready to sleep.

There was a knock on the door. Hedgar looked surprisingly at Rosie and went out of the bedroom,. Fippi, who was just as curious as the father to know who it was, jumped out of his bed, anxiously looking out of the window by the door. Hedgar hushed at him, looking quite nervous, but opened the door reluctantly.

"'Ello there," Hedgar said, being unsure. He couldn't quite see who it was, but as the shadow moved slightly forwards he recognized the man as being on of the mayor's assistants.

"Oh, hi there!" Hedgar said again, a bit more lively now. The man nodded, smiling as he discovered Fippi behind his father's back.

"I'm here on behalf of the mayor," he started. As soon as Hedgar heard this, he begged the man come in, and Fippi to go to bed. Fippi looked at Hedgar, eyes filled with disappointment. Hedgar gave him a fierce look, but regretted it the very moment he had done it. (Fippi hadn’t really deserved it..) He tried to excuse himself, but his son was already on his way towards his room again. The man stood impatiently, looking at the father and the son.

"It's fine," he said after a while. "I just wanted to assure you and your wife were ready to man the bucket brigade along the hedge. You might want to work shifts as you have a little boy," he said with determination.

Hedgar stood silently, watching Rosie as she advanced through the hallway and came over to his side.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:11 PM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: Novnarwen ]

[Orofaniel]

Rosie

Rosie heard that there had been someone at the door. Hedgar however had caught it first and he had opened it. "I just wanted to assure you and your wife was ready to man the bucket brigade along the hedge. You might want to work shifts as you have a little boy."

"Man the bucket brigade along the hedge?" Rosie asked questioned when she came over and stood by Hedgar's side.

"Yes," The young man said. "You'll have to be ready in case the alarm bell rings. As you probably know the town is getting ready to defend itself if there should be an attack. We are quite sure that the bandits will attack...soon, and we'd better get ready." he continued. Rosie gazed. It was this bad? Rosie had known about the situation of course, but she had never really imagined it to be like this.

Hegar opened his mouth, but Rosie interrupted. She turned around and dragged Hedgar with her. "But we've just dealt with the FIRE!" She said behind her teeth. She wasn't sure if the young man behind them had heard what she'd said do she dragged Hedgar with her further down the hallway. "Yes, I know." Hedgar said. "But we have to...I mean...I think we should help our town." Hedgar continued. "Yes, but what about Fippi?" Rosie continued, still speaking with a tense, but low voice.

"We'll stand shifts, as he proposed." Hedgar suggested.

"Excuse me..?" The young man said whit a shivering voice. He was obviously nervous. "Yes..?" Hedgar said and turned, and so did Rosie. They walked towards him as he talked. "I'm sorry, but this is really important. The mayor is quite worried....I mean, the gates are locked down, and there are armed men and Hobbits in the streets. They are now taking their positions on rooftops and along the walls...We have to be ready!" The man said to try to convince them that they had to do this. He still seemed nervous, not for confronting them, but about the situation in town and about the bandits that were going to attack.

Rosie sighed. She knew by herself that they would have to do this. Not only for the town, but also for her own son, she wanted him to be safe. "Okay then..." She said and sighed. "We'll man the bucked brigade along the Hedge." She said and looked at Hedgar. He smiled faintly and kissed his wife on the cheek.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:00 AM January 30, 2004: Message edited by: Orofaniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Lilac and Andreth:

Hearing Kandel's offer to lead them to his father, Lilac quickly responded, "Your words ring true, but you must give us a moment to speak on this." Lilac glanced towards Andreth who had retreated to the opposite end of the clearing.

Kandel acknowledged Lilac with a shake of his head and then withdrew to a spot several paces distant where he could still see the women, but was out of immediate earshot. Seeing the young man squat down beside the tangled underbrush to wait, Lilac clasped Andreth's hand and pulled her close, speaking in a quiet but determined manner, "Whether you will or not, Andreth Woolthistle, I am determined to do this thing. For, despite the danger, this meeting holds the promise of hope. Yet I will not hold it against you if you turn back to Bree, and leave me here to do what must be done."

Andreth could see there was no sense trying to argue with Lilac or talk her out of what she proposed to do. She looked over at her companion and responded, "We have known each other many a long year. And in all that time, you have stood by my side again and again....first, when I was but a child, then a young bride coming to the Pony, and later when my husband met a violent death on the road and I was left alone with Edmund. You did not desert me through all that, and I will not desert you now. But I pray with all my heart that you are right about these men, for I do not wish to leave my son an orphan."

Lilac smiled soberly and squeezed Andreth's hand, "We are agreed then. Let me do the talking, and we will see if any good can come from all this." Lilac walked over towards Kandel, saying that they would follow him, for they judged him to be an honorable man who would not intentionally lead them into danger. The party slowly made its way towards the camp and the tent that belonged to Lotar.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Andreth followed last in line, trying to still the thumping of her heart and wondering if she had made the right decision. Her responsibility for her young son weighed heavily upon her head. Perhaps, she was wrong to take such a risk. Yet, how could she turn her back on her friend and their first opportunity to make a difference?

As they made their way through the camp, the sounds and smells of the morning pressed in, imprinting themselves upon Andreth's mind. The first thing that struck her was the incredible crush of human bodies within the clearing.....hundreds of folk crammed into a tiny space, most looking tired and drawn from their long trek on the road. Everywhere she heard the voices of children and the laughter of families reunited, but mixed in with these were less cheerful sounds. For Andreth could also hear the wail of babes, sick and hungry, and the piteous moans of the maimed and injured who lay on the ground looking out with pain filled eyes. Whatever hardship she had seen in Bree these past few months, however many hungry mouths there had been with the drought, it was nothing compared to what she was gazing upon here. She did see armed men here and there, but they were few in number when compared with the vast number of women and children and those who were elderly or injured.

Faced with such obvious need, Andreth turned aside from her path and came close to weeping, but then forced herself to go forward again. Everywhere in the camp she looked, the tired travelers turned their curious faces towards the women, since their well fed frames and respectful clothing seemed to hold hidden memories of a safe and stable world that had been all but forgotten. Groups of refugees stared and whispered to their neighbor, wondering out loud who the two might be or what their errand was.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kandel went in first, and spoke privately with his father, then beckoned the two to enter. As the women walked into the tent, they could make out two men seated at the table engaged in earnest conversation. One was a face that neither Lilac or Andreth recognized, but the other seemed vaguely familiar. Andreth glanced over, at first puzzled as she tried to make out the grizzled features of the outlaw who somehow looked familiar despite his too lanky frame and tattered clothing. Then she hastily put her hand over her mouth to cover a look of surprise as she suddenly realized that this stranger was Minastan the Ranger. She felt her body relax slightly, realizing that they had at least one friend in the tent.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lotar glanced over at the women, speaking in a voice both tired and stern, "It is a long way for two women to ride all the way from Bree. Why have you come? And what do you want? Are you not afraid to come here into our camp?"

"Afraid?" replied Lilac, staring back at Lotar. "Yes, we are afraid but we fear the scourge of war even more. And we wonder why no one on either side has bothered to stop for a moment and ask to what end this road will lead us. Andreth and I have come to see if there is anything the people of Bree can do to help you and your folk. And the hardship we have seen in this camp makes us think this even more. Perhaps if the leaders of our city were to meet with you and your advisors, some new understanding might come forth that would avoid great bloodshed and sorrow."

"And where do you propose that this meeting take place?" Lotar queried. "For I do not trust your mayor any more than he trusts me"

Before Lilac could respond, Minastan looked over at Lotar and spoke, "Lotar, perhaps there is something the women could do to prove their mettle and to build a bit of trust." He looked over towards Lilac, "We have many sick and injured, especially children. Their mothers are desperate. For if some do not get proper care and herbal remedies, they will surely die. We have no healers here. Only in Bree would there be any hope for these families."

He glanced over at Lotar and lowered his voice, "I beleve the mothers would go to the city rather than have their children face certain death here. Let these Breelanders take the sickest children and their mothers into the town. Then we will see if the mayor of Bree enough heart to reach out to those in great need."

"I will go with them unarmed," Minastan continued. "Send me into Bree as a pledge of good faith. I will speak the cause of the outlaws before their leaders and see if a later meeting can be set up. If I do not return to you, Lotar, within the space of two days, go ahead and launch your attack. Nothing will be lost, other than my arm and shield."

Lilac shook her head in agreement. Both women looked expectently towards Lotar waiting for his response.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 9:28 AM January 26, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tara for Lotar:

Lotar looked into the eyes of the two women as they sat in his tent. Both looked edged on the spot, their nerves tight. But their earnest plea could not be from any place but their hearts. He stood up and faced them.

'It is agreed. I will let you take our sickest women and children. I could do little but refuse, they need it so. I thank ye for your kind deeds, all of ye. This will bring some joy to a place that has long had little'

Lotar saw the smile on his son's face, and shrugged him off. His conflict was great within him. He wished to make a home for himself, and the people of Bree were in his way. But he loathed the idea of killing to have such a pleasant life. He pondered whether these two could bring a peace all could be happy for. He also wondered if Guthwne would live with such a thing...

The thought of the man called his thoughts into order, and he looked back up, 'I will tell you now there are those who will not like this plan. But I have no doubt that they will not get in your way. With that I must leave you for now'

He quickly left the tent, and it took him very little time to find Guthwine.

'Hear me now. We are taking the sickest of the women and children into Bree for care. We have some men escorting them there as soon as we can. I want no word from ye of this. I have sat idle too long, and now I take action that I think is wise. You will stay away from this Guthwine'...

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

Child for Guthwine

Guthwine turned around and was about to explode, lecturing Lotar on how dangerous and unwise such an action could prove. But, before he could open his mouth to complain, one of the women with a very sick child came rushing up to Lotar, knocking Guthwine out of the way.

She threw herself onto her knees and bent low to the ground, offering thanks to Guthwine for finding help for her sick child. Thoroughly embarassed but also privately pleased, Lotar reached down and helped the woman to stand again, while glaring back at Guthwine who remained strangely silent.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:34 AM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Eruantalon’s post

As Rudgar went through the camp he felt honest joy. Feeding hungry people felt good. The goat seemed to be coming along nicely. It had his full attention at the time. Basting it and keeping it from burning. That’s when he noticed two women.

They didn’t look like the other people here. They where dressed well and didn’t seem to fit here. They moved always beside each other. Seeming to have a conversation that no one could hear. Although a distraction. They didn’t keep him from his work. But he couldn’t help but look up and wonder. That’s when Kirima walked. They spoke for a moment and she had as little idea as him. He asked one of the people who where helping with the food to watch the goat for a few moments.

These people where not from here. They seemed worried and conscious of there surroundings. Watching out side he saw them speak to some one he knew. He realized something was happening. Something big was going to happen. These people wouldn’t just walk into a camp like this with out a reason. They seemed scared and at the same time. It looked as it they where hurried to talk to some one. Lotar was probably the one. He was the only one that seemed to want war less than anyone else.

They could vary well be what everyone was hoping for. But he knew that it might not turn out that way too. Skulking around he followed from a distance to see what they where doing here. He almost forgot the goat for too long. Rushing back he saw that it was cooking well. So he made his way back to where he had last seen the two ladies. But he couldn’t see them anywhere now. Feeling desperate he looked for some one. To find anyone who could answer these strange events. He couldn’t find anyone at the moment. But that didn’t stop him from trying to find some one who knew.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:25 AM January 31, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Tinuviel's post

Soran was doing his best to juggle three children, relate the scouts' experiences to his sister, and convince her that his head had been fine for quite some time now; Kirima had seen to that with her herb knowledge. That was when two well-dressed women followed Kandel into camp. The old man almost dropped his four-year-old niece, Lalia, who was busy trying to count his grey hairs.

He watched the two unfamiliar women, wondering what in the world they could want with them. One was obviously distrustful, the pretty Innkeeper who had spoken to the three spies in Bree. The other seemed quite confident of herself and her mission, whatever it was, though still wary. The Innkeeper kept glancing around, as though expecting someone to jump out at them. Soran saw her eyes widen when she saw the children, especially the s. He supposed she had been expecting some sort of army.

Minastan and Lotar were deep in some sort of conversation as the two women and Kandel approached. The play of emotions on Lotar's face could have been amusing as he took in the respectable look of the visitors, but fairly predictable. Minastan's was . . . harder to decypher. A flash of recognition and surprise, followed quickly by a replacing of the carefully neutral mask he usually wore. How interesting. Probably Minastan had known the two women before they chased him out of Bree.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:28 AM January 31, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Arestevana's post

Kirima was crouched by the fire, tending a sick child. The child's mother fretted helplessly as the small boy shook with a racking cough. Kirima felt nearly as helpless, for there was little she could do, even with her skills in healing. Any plants in the near woods with healing virtues had been pulled in the past weeks. Food and water were scarce, and the cold was always present, stealing life from the injured and ill.

Kirima stood up and smiled encouragingly at the child's mother. 'There's not much else I can do,' she said quietly. 'But don't lose hope. He's a strong lad, and we'll have new supplies soon enough.' She turned and left, her smile fading quickly.

Away from the fire, Kirima slumped against a tree. 'That boy will up and playing again before the spring,' she told herself fiercely. No, said a voice in her head. By springtime he will be with your children. You and his mother will weep, but you won’t bring them back. Kirima straightened. There was nothing she could have done to help Pepin and Brier, but she could try to save the other children here.

She glanced around the camp, and to her surprise saw Kandel near his father’s tent, talking to two women she did not recognize. With a second shock she noticed their clean, neat clothes and healthy color, and realized that they must have come from Bree. She watched curiously as first Kandel, and then the strangers, entered the tent.

When Lotar emerged a moment later and hurried over to speak with Guthwine, Kirima walked over and ducked inside. After the moment it took for her eyes to adjust to the dimness, she saw Kandel and Minastan talking to the women from Bree. Minastan looked up and, in response to her questioning glance, told her that the Breelanders were going to take some of the sickest children and their mothers to the town where they could be tended.

Kirima stared at Minastan for a moment in surprise. Then she turned to the strangers. “My name is Kirima,” she told them. “I wish to go with you when you return to Bree. I am not wounded or ill, but I have some small skill in healing. There is little I can do here, but perhaps I could be of some help in the town. May I accompany you?” She watched hopefully as the two turned to converse quietly. Then for a moment her mind wandered, and she remembered the sick boy she had been tending just a while ago. She turned her attention back to the Breelanders, and hoped desperately that they could be trusted.

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 1:34 PM January 29, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

It was very late in the afternoon as Berilac made his way back to the Prancing Pony. Rosco had promised his brother he would meet him and they would go to Mausi’s from there for supper. The Ranger was looking forward to a relaxing evening before he saw to the night patrol around the hedge.

Berilac stood blinking for a moment in the entryway, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer light in the Common Room. Rosco waved to him as he entered, motioning over to where he sat. A pint of ale sat on the table waiting for him, and Berilac took a swig of the heady brew as soon as he sat down.

‘Long day, eh?’ commented Rosco. He held his empty mug in the air, signaling for one of the serving girls to come over. Berilac nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair. ‘Everything is ready to go, though,’ he said, watching the girl scurry over with a pitcher of ale. ‘The bowmen are in place, the teams for manning the bucket brigade are all notified, and the Watch at the Gates has been stepped up.’ The girl had arrived at their table, and though she smiled as she topped off their mugs, she looked distracted and a bit harried.

Rosco leaned toward her, a frown on his face. ‘Is there something we can help you with, miss? You look as if things are on the verge of falling apart for you.’

The poor girl nearly burst into tears at Rosco’s question. Berilac stood and pulled out a chair for her, urging the now weeping girl to sit down. ‘It’s Miss Andreth. She’s gone missing. And here it’s near time for us to be serving supper.’

‘Missing?’ asked the Ranger, a look of puzzlement on his face.

‘Well, not missing, really. It’s just that she’s gone off with some friend, and she hasn’t returned. And Cook is all atwitter, because she always consults with Miss Andreth.’ Berilac passed the red nosed girl a clean kerchief to wipe her eyes and nose. Then both the Hobbits reassured her that Miss Andreth would probably be back soon, and that they had every faith in Cook to pull through. The girl sniffed and sighed, saying she hoped so, then was called away by another table. Berilac waved her away when she held the kerchief out to him with the admonition to keep it, he had plenty.

‘Best we get back to Mausi’s soon,’ said Rosco draining his mug. ‘She’s making a lamb stew for us,’ he grinned, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

The two brothers drew on their cloaks and headed out the door. Berilac stood on the steps for a moment and looked toward the Hedge. ‘I just hope Andreth hasn’t done something foolish . . .’ he murmured. ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Rosco, heading down the path to the main road.

‘Because,’ continued the Ranger, striding alongside him, ‘the gates are locked tight. And getting back in will prove difficult . . . very difficult . . .’

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 3:04 AM January 31, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Andreth, Lilac, and the Women and Children from the Encampment:

Within a few moments, a crowd of women had gathered outside Lotar's tent, each holding a small child who was shielded in the crook of an arm or carefully nestled inside a shoulder sling. A cluster of older youths had also come along on foot. Some walked beside a mother or aunt; others stood alone without any family because their kin had been slaughtered in the earlier attacks.

The children looked weary with many of the group sick or injured. One lad, unable to stand on his own, slumped heavily against an older brother. Others bore grievous wounds festering with infection, or seemed flushed and pale from the fevers that afflicted them. The last to arrive was an older girl limping forward with a makeshift crutch who had somehow managed to drag a sledge behind her on which her little sister lay. The child on the sledge could not have been more than seven years old. She lay on her side with her legs drawn up, showing no outward indication of injury or illness. Yet the child stared out blankly at everything around her, giving no hint of recognition, and didn't answer when her sister tried to speak with her.

Lilac gazed over at Minastan and spoke fiercely, "This is no good. We'll never make it back before the gates close. And if we do not get these children to shelter, some of them will surely die. If I had only known before .... I fear we have come too late." Lilac averted her eyes and thought back to Bree where her kit of healing herbs and potions waited on a table in the parlor, as well as good blankets, splints and bandages, and cauldrons of nourishing broth.

Minastan promised to help, going over to Lotar and speaking with him. The older man nodded in agreement and, very quickly, four small carts appeared plus two extra horses to pull them. The sickest patients were loaded up; their mothers and kin who followed on foot took turns nursing the children and riding in the cart.

Lilac drove the lead wagon. Minastan and Kirima guided the two carts in the middle with Andreth last in line. She made sure to keep her bow and arrow close and watched the women closely in case any trouble broke out.

But there was no trouble and little discussion for the remainder of the journey. It was late afternoon just verging onto the supper hour when the party emerged from the forest and saw the north gate of Bree suddenly looming in front of them. Andreth breathed a sigh of relief to spy the the Inn's familiar thatched roof showing in the distance just over the top of the hedge and dyke. They had made it on time!

Andreth and Lilac jointly approached the sentry house intending to explain to the guards what was happening. They were startled to notice that the gate itself was closed and the crossbar latched tight as if the hour of curfew had already passed.

"What is this?" puzzled Andreth.

Lilac shook her head, "I've no idea, but we'd best pound on the door and pull the bell to get someone to come out and open it for us."

Lilac glanced warily back at the carts. She could hear frightened conversation coming from the women. They were speaking in hushed voices with a few suggesting that they might be better off to flee. For a long time no one in the guardhouse answered, despite the womens' best efforts to make as much noise as possible. Just when Lilac was about to give up, she heard a stern voice echoing through the small grate that stood to the side of the door.....

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 10:19 PM February 01, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Hugh Oatleaf spoke hurriedly to the man peering out through the small barred gate. ‘Well, Hal, what do you see out there? Who’s banging on the door?’

The two brothers stood whispering together, their stout clubs in hand. Hal, the older of the two, said it was Miz Lilac and Miz Andreth. ‘Well, then let them in,’ whispered Hugh. Telien said we could let those in that we knew by sight.’ Hal shoved his younger brother up to the grate for a ‘look-see’. There was a gaggle of wretched looking children and women with them, dressed in ragged outlander clothes, and some rough looking man along with them.

‘They’ve been captured by the bandits!’ growled Hugh in a low voice as he turned back to his brother. ‘They’ll want to ransom the two women for entry into the city!’ Hugh peered out once more. ‘And those women they’ve brought with them – dirty and ragged, hard to see their faces. For all we know it could be the bandit men in disguise.’

Hal pulled his brother away from the opening, giving him urgent directions. ‘You run for the Mayor and Cap’n Telien, Hugh. Get them here as fast as you can!’

Hal spoke once more through the grate in a gruff, booming voice. ‘Move back! The lot of you!’ His voice lowered to a whisper as he made eye contact with Lilac and Andreth. ‘You two can stay by the door, Miz Andreth. We’ll have the troops here in a trice to rescue you!’

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

Hugh sped up the path toward the mayor’s office, his heart pounding in his chest. Fear drove him like a brisk gale against the sails, and so focused was he on his errand that he did not see the two Hobbits coming down the path toward him.

‘Begging your pardons, sirs,’ he apologized, as he stood up from the collision and offered a hand up to Berilac and Rosco. Berilac stayed him with a hand to his forearm as the young man prepared to run off again. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be at the gate with your brother, Hugh?’

‘Oh, Mister Berilac, I have some frightful news. Hal is at the gate and it’s locked tight. Bandits are there, and they’ve captured Miz Andreth and Miz Lilac! And they’re wanting in!’ His eyes rolled wildly with fright. ‘They look dangerous, sir. I’m off to get the Mayor and the Cap’n.’

‘Let Rosco go, Hugh’ said Berilac. ‘You come back with me to the gate. We’ll see what we can sort out.’

The three split up, and soon the Ranger and Hugh found themselves back at the gate. Berilac could hear Andreth arguing with Hal, but the man had remained firm about opening the gate.

‘She says they’re not captives,’ whispered Hal to Berilac. ‘But just look at that man with them. Shifty and dangerous as I’ve ever seen!’

Berilac looked through the grate. ‘By the One!’ he murmured to himself, catching the eye of the dangerous bandit.

‘You there!’ he bellowed in a commanding tone. ‘Take your mates and move well back from the dike.’ He could see Minastan herding the others away from the gate. Lilac and Andreth moved to follow them.

‘Hold on, you two!’ he said loudly to the two women. ‘Get in here, and be quick about it. Andreth, you’ve got some explaining to do!’

The small door on the left side of the gate was unlocked and unbarred. Hal threw it open quickly, reaching out with his great ham fist to yank the ladies in one after the other. ‘Your safe now, ma’ams!’ he said, as they fell in an ungraceful heap well inside the gate. His quick hands redid the bar and lock, and he turned back with a grin for a job well done.

Berilac watched as the two stood up and dusted themselves off. Neither of them looked appreciative, and Hal’s face fell at the sight of Andreth’s scowl. The Ranger shook his head at the spectacle.

‘Well, Andreth . . . Lilac . . . what in blue blazes have you been doing?’

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

Down the path, running at a quick pace came the Mayor, Rosco, and Telien with a troop of bowmen . . .

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 5:58 PM February 01, 2004: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Lilac and Andreth make their plea:

You've got some explaining to do!!

The words reverberated inside Andreth's head as she considered the great irony that she and Lilac had been accorded gentler treatment by the so-called bandits than they were now receiving at the hands of Bree's defenders.

Earlier today, she had reluctantly agreed to travel to the outlaws' camp and expose herself to folk whom she regarded as evil. Yet once she'd arrived, she quickly saw that these were real people, much different than the imaginery monstors she'd concocted in her head. No one in the encampment had threatened them. In fact, Lotar and Kandel had treated her with respect, and were willing to listen before they blurted out their suspicions. Not a single person had challenged her integrity or accused her of intending to murder defenceless children. They had trusted her, despite the fact that she was a stranger leading the women into hostile territory.

Suddenly, Andreth felt ashamed. For weeks on end, she had assumed the worst about these refugees, and had not bothered to try and speak with them to find out whether her fears were justified. If she had only urged the Mayor to do this, perhaps something could have been worked out to help the families and the raids on the farmhouses would never have taken place.

Andreth was also disappointed in her neighbors. They should have been willing to trust her. But, so far, all she'd gotten from them had been suspicion and an insistence that she justify her actions! Thoroughly frustrated, cold and tired from the long journey, Andreth felt her temper peak. Her sharp retort came flooding out, before Lilac could poke her in the ribs and suggest they try a more politic approach.

"Berilac Woodfarer! Shame on you! A group of defenceless women and children wait outside. Sick and wounded children who need herbal remedies and tender nursing, or they will surely die. Let us in this minute -- all of us -- unless you prefer to be responsible for the deaths of all these folk. If you are so frightened of unarmed children whose only weapons are their hands and teeth, then place a guard around them as they make their way through our town. But at least let Lilac guide them to the Inn where she can set up a place of healing and tend to their needs."

At this point Lilac interrupted in a calmer voice, speaking directly to the Mayor, "We must speak at once. There has been a terrible misunderstanding. These folk do not want war any more than we do. They are hungry and cold, and have no homes. By nature they are not murderers or thieves. Their villages were destroyed by the Orcs in the service of the Witch King, and they come looking for a new place to settle. If we give them a hand, they will survive and we will all avoid great bloodshed."

"Perhaps you do not believe the ramblings of an old woman. But bring Minastan inside privately and talk to him. And at least listen to the words of Kirima. She can speak for Lotar, the leader of their band, a man who was a respected villager before he lost everything he had."

<font size=1 color=339966>[ 4:58 PM February 03, 2004: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Berilac

A sizeable crowd had gathered now that the Mayor with Telien and the bowmen had arrived at the gate. They had been fearful at first, but now they looked at the happenings with frown on their faces. None could see the group gathered outside the gates, but all seemed to have their opinions.

‘Let them in,’ some cried, though they were in the minority. ‘It’s Mistress Andreth and Mistress Lilac,’ they continued. ‘Surely we can trust their judgement!’

‘Trust her to get our throats slit,’ cried a loud voice from the back. Big Tom, it sounded like. His words were echoed and heads nodded in affirmation. They had lived for so long now with the bogey man bandits frightening them in their dreams, that no amount of assurance from the Innkeeper or the old biddy, as some called Lilac, was going to allay their fears.

Telien turned and spoke to the bowmen, some of whom were Men and some were the Little Folk with their deadly accurate little bows. ‘Up to the wall, lads,’ he said in a quiet voice. Use the ladders, a few of you go up and have a look about.’ Doderic, the captain of the Little Folk stepped forward, speaking to Telien, though his eyes were on Berilac. ‘Let us go up, Master Telien,’ he said. ‘Our eyes are just as keen as those of the Big Folk, and to be honest we make smaller targets.’ Berilac nodded his agreement, as Telien ordered them up to the top of the Hedge.

The mayor by this time had gathered the two women in close to him. ‘I heard your harsh words to Master Berilac,’ he told Andreth. ‘And I must say that while I understand your concern, I will echo the Ranger’s reserve. Our first consideration is for Bree and the safety of her citizens. And once we’ve established that that need is met, then we’ll consider your request.’ The mayor continued on, even as the two women opened their mouths to speak. ‘Now having said that, I understand there is someone who will speak with us about both the sick ones you have brought with you and about the willingness of their leader to negotiate.’

Telien, by this time, had come back to stand by the Mayor and bent close to him for a moment to whisper in his ear. Harald nodded as the Captain spoke. ‘Berilac will go out to speak with Minastan,’ he said straightening up and facing Lilac and Andreth. ‘You’ll go out with him, Mistress Woolthistle, and bring in the one Lilac spoke of. The one who can speak for their leader . . . Lotar, was that his name?’

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

The Hobbit bowmen stood with grim faces on either side of the gate, their eyes set hard on the huddled group of Big Folk. And often one or another of them would sweep the distance beyond the clustered forms, trying to peer into the gathering darkness for any other Big Folk on the move.

The four that stood to either side of the gate, tracked the progress of Berilac and Andreth; watching as the Innkeeper led one of the women back to the gate. Berilac had motioned the shaggy, brown-haired bandit to one side, and stood talking with him.

One false move from those gathered beyond, and they would drop the offending Big Folk with their arrows . . .

[Arestevana]

Kirima

The days had grown short, and the sun was low in the sky when they reached Bree. Kirima felt a sudden helpless fear when she saw the gates of the town, closed and barred against them. For a moment she faltered in her charge of guiding one of the small carts, but then she turned back to the task, trying to allay her misgivings. Surely the townsfolk would let them in, would help them…

When the carts were pulled up to the gates, Kirima left her place next to them to see if she could help those inside. She clambered up into the bed of the nearest cart and spent a moment talking to some of the mothers who had ridden with the injured children, asking how the trip had been. Then she moved on to assist a woman with two sick children, feeling as if all she could do was to reassure the mother that there would soon be help.

She could hear shouts from the other side of the wall, but purposefully ignored them, until she heard someone yell her name. Kirima looked around, not recognizing the voice, and saw Andreth calling. She jumped down from the cart and hurried over, wondering what had come up. Andreth told Kirima that the mayor wanted her to come in and speak for Lotar. Kirima nodded and followed her toward the gate. As they walked, she noticed Minastan talking quietly to a Breelander who was about half his height. The sound of their voices together triggered something in her memory, but before she could recall it, they had reached the gate, and Andreth was ushering her inside.

A group of townsfolk were clustered near the gate, and Kirima watched them nervously, realizing that many had weapons. She heard someone bar the gate behind her and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Surely the breefolk would not do this, not now, she told herself desperately. They had dared to hope, were they now to pay the price? She risked a hesitant glance at Andreth. She felt slightly calmer as the other woman stepped up beside her and turned to the other Breefolk, quickly but politely introducing them all.

After the introductions were complete, the man Andreth had said was the mayor turned briskly to Kirima. “Now,” he said. “Mistress Woolthistle tells me you can speak for your leader, Lotar. What would he have me do?”

Said Kirima, hesitantly, “I can not tell you for certain what Lotar would say, but I know that he does not this war. None of us do! We, all of us, have been ravaged by it; our kinsfolk are murdered, and those who live starve beside us. What desire have we to see more bloodshed? Our leader is an honest man, he will treat fairly with you.”

The mayor looked at her uncertainly. “I have been told this man, Lotar, was well respected in his village, and now he leads these others. Can he not see the circumstances I am faced with, as mayor of this town? How can I let a group of—of bandits into this city with no thought for it’s people?”

“Bandits?” Kirima cried. “A group of women and children! Injured and sick, every one of them! Unarmed, they stand within bowshot of your walls! The mothers who have brought their infant children to your gates; they are not blind—they can see the archers upon the walls, and they know their peril! How can you turn them away?”

Again the mayor spoke. “No sane person would do such a thing without reason.” He said, shaking his head. “How do we know it is not a trap? Your warriors could be hiding nearby or amongst those outside.”

Kirima answered softly, her voice sad. “You cannot know, you can only trust us. When you say without reason though, you are wrong. Do you not realize that without your help, half of the children outside will die before morning? Within a week—″ She broke off, fighting irritably to swallow a painful lump in her throat.

The mayor looked very uncomfortable, but again he shook his head as he spoke. “Do not think we are heartless to turn you away, but we have seen evidence of your willingness to attack us when you raided the outlying farms. How can you expect us to trust you so easily when we have cause to fear you?”

“Trust we need, but it is not what I ask for.” Kirima replied. “I am asking for help. You bade me speak for Lotar, and with his voice I asked for peace. Our willingness to attack, you say, you have seen. Winter is coming; if we do not fight, we will die. But it is not for ourselves that we fight—we fight for each other.” She frowned thoughtfully and looked at the mayor. “Is there not someone for whom you would steal rather than see them starve?”

For a moment the mayor looked pensive, and Kirima knew he was pondering her question. Then he looked up and began stiffly, “Be that as it may—″ He was cut off by a voice from the wall top. One of those guarding above called down to the mayor. “Sir! Berilac is returning. The gate—″ The mayor signaled for the gate to be opened and turned curtly to Kirima. “Please excuse me, miss, but I must end this discussion for a time.”

Kirima nodded silently, but the mayor had already turned away. They haven’t turned us away yet, there is still hope. she thought. But they have not helped us either, and before long it will be too late for many. She could hear a child crying beyond the town’s walls, and for a few moments her mind drifted absently. I should not have come; I should have stayed with widow Marish, she’ll need comforting when—if Gilly dies… Kirima shook her head to clear it. Gilly was not going to die; she let her mind wander too often. She glanced up as the gate was opened to admit someone, and wondered what would happen. Would that gate be opened again to admit the other refugees, or would they be turned away?

[piosenniel]

Berilac

Berilac motioned for Minastan to step away from the group of women, making the showy pretense of having the ‘bandit’ lay down all his weapons. Telling the man to kneel down with his hands in sight, Berilac stepped between him and the women, blocking their view of Minastan. ‘What’s going on here?’ he asked the other Ranger, nodding his head back at the huddled children and mothers.

Minastan explained quickly how there had been an influx of refugees to the encampment; that many of them were families who had fled the persecution in the north. Their food supplies were low, medicines nonexistent for all practical purposes, given the number of ill children. ‘It’s not just the children who are ill and starving. Often the parents forego a meal to keep their little ones fed. But it is just not enough.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘It’s not the desire for power that drives these people; it’s the want of the basic necessities that forces them to take what they need.’

The Hobbit looked round at the group behind him. Most of them had sat down on the brown, scraggly grasses, weary figures pulling their thin shalwl about them. The women had gathered their children near them, and those without mothers leaned in against older youth who drew them in protectively, murmuring soft words of comfort to those who whimpered from cold, fatigue, and hunger. They were a sorry lot – with their pale skin and hollow eyes set like black smudges in their thin, drawn faces. Berilac’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of one young mother, a little curly headed girl drawn in close to her. A tiny babe cradled to her, nursing. There was not enough milk and the baby gave up in frustration, his thin little wail protesting his hunger. His thoughts were drawn back to his own wife and little girl and the new wee one, who would just have been born a few days ago. They would be safe, and well, their bellies full.

‘What of their leader,’ Berilac asked. ‘Would he be willing to negotiate some terms with the Mayor?’

‘Perhaps so,’ said Minastan, nodding his head thoughtfully. ‘He seems a good man. But . . .’ Berilac waited for the man to continue. ‘There is one who also wields some power among them – Guthwine, and he, I think, would rather plow through Bree, taking what his people need.’ Minastan spoke on for a few moments longer, giving the other Ranger a description of Guthwine and a run down on what he had heard the man say along with his participation in the recent raids.

Berilac stood for a few moments, thinking hard on what he’d just heard. ‘Get the women and children up,’ he said, ‘and move them up to the gate. I’m going to recommend that they be let in. But you I want back at the camp, keeping your eyes on things going on there. Sound out this Lotar if you can.’

The Hobbit strode quickly back to the gate and was let in. A brief huddled conference with the Mayor and Telien, and then Kirima was let out with Andreth and a number of the Big Folk bowmen to bring in the group now standing near the door. Harald ordered the gates locked once more and then addressed the weary group. ‘Welcome to Bree,’ he began. ‘I wish this might have happened under better circumstances. But we’ll do the best we can. Mistress Andreth will see you all to the Inn. I’m sure there are some of our good ladies who will be ready and willing to assist her.’ He paused for a moment, his gaze resting here and there on a number of Breeland women.

‘There is one thing,’ continued Harald, ‘and I regret that I must do this. But since we’ve come to no terms yet with the leaders of your group, you will all be our guests and remain within the walls of Bree now, until we do.’