[Imladris]

November 1st

Olo groaned and wondered if his legs could manage to pump himself forward much longer. Brass was lagging behind, apparently lost in thought: that was strange, since it seemed the hobbit never strayed into that troublesome realm and was mostly thinking about food and pleasant times...no matter. Actually, the thought of food seemed quite delightful and Olo was actually beginning to miss his hobbit hole a little: ah, but his piddley riches were nothin' compared to the Tooks. Once this job for Ferney was over, he was done with the bastard. Olo considered to himself why he had ever had dealings with the man: Ferney wasn't all that smart, though he thought he was; he was dirty. greasy, oily, filthy, and took up with unreliable oafs like the men they were supposed to have met with. Yet still he was a good source of information and could be played easily...Olo shook his head.

Lifting his eyes, he saw a trail of smoke drift faintly from a nearby thicket. "Brass," he hissed, "lookee over there!"

"Smoke," Brass whispered back as he plopped to the ground and began to rub his sore muscles. He sniffed appreciatively and said, "Lingering smell of dinner, too."

Grasping Brass by the lapels of his homespun jacket, Olo propelled him towards the thicket and said, "We just have to see who's there: hopefully it'll be our big, strong, brainless, greedy, orcish friends."

"Friends?" said Brass puzzled.

"Yes. They are here to help us, supposedly, but we all know what they really want is the loot (all Big Folk are that way), but there are appearances that have to be kept up," said Olo, condescendinly. He was being nicer to Brass than he normally was: probably because he was so tired.

"Isn't that what we want: the loot?" asked Brass as they crept towards the thicket.

"Shut yer trap," Olo spat as he kneeled down and peered into the thicket. Three men were sprawled around the smoldering remains of a camp fire: they looked like Ferney's type. Despite the fact that they were supposedly friends, Olo was slightly afraid of them and wondered how to best go about waking them. "I think we found them," he said in a barely perceptible whisper. "Brass? .... Brass?" Turning irately, he saw that the hobbit had fallen fast asleep just outside the thicket. Irately, forgetting that he was supposed to be quiet, he tromped out of the thicket and slapped Brass's face.

"Come out and show yourselves! Let me see your faces before I run you through!"

Brass and Olo both froze and glanced quicly at each other. Standing and shrugging, Olo straightened his shirrif-cap so that it assumed a somewhat jaunty air (as jaunty as it could be considering it was much too early in the morning) Olo strode boldy along, with Brass in tow, and saw that Assiram was pointing a sword at him.

Glancing down his nose with as much derisive scorn as he could muster in his muddied clothes and legs that trembled from weariness, he said, "Run you through indeed! As if you could skewer a pig with that thing! If your capability with the use of a weapon relates to your ability torondezvous, I believe we are quite safe from the likes of you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brass give a short firm nod in agreement.

"What's the blighter mumbling?" asked one of the men who stretched liesurely by the fire.

"Blimey, I think it's our shiriffs," said Assiram. "Except they got their story wrong," he said, scowling. "Our ability to ron-de-vou? You were the one that wasn't in the right place at the right time!"

"What do ye mean?" asked Olo loftily. "Think you that you were right? Why, you bumbling fools haven't even lived in the Shire for a year while I have lived in it my entire life. You probably lost your way and thought you were in the right spot. You poor deluded souls," he said in mock sympathy, "waiting for us, fondly imagining that you were right and we hobbits were mistaken. What a pitiful state do affairs become when men are blinded by such extreme pride."

The three men stared at each other, probably only getting half of what Olo was saying. Assiram grunted and sheathed his sword. "Alright, you simpletons," he said. "You can say and holler that you were right an' we was wrong, but that don't change the truth now does it?" he said leering at his cronies.

"Stop this nonsense," Olo commanded. "While you were waisting your time and raiding farmsteads instead o' meeting us, we ran into a slight hitch. There's a band of hobbits --" he began to use choice language describing this band and Hob in particular --" and they went to get some leaf from some stupid farmer. One o' our men --" grimace here -- "proved to be a traitor and deserted to them."

"Why should we care?" asked Ahiram, raising an eyebrow. "Why should we care about your problems."

Stifling a sigh, Olo said tightly, "They're stealing your leaf...mates," he added pleasantly (but Brass new Olo enough to know that he was inwardly cursing and swearing all of them.)

Dark frowns gathered and brewed upon the men's foreheads and Assiram said, "Now that does pose a problem. Helios, douse the fire, Ahiram, pack the camp.!

"Wait!" Hob shrieked, collapsing to the ground, "What about breakfast, or even second breakfast."

"Yeah, mates!" Olo chimed in, thinking that Brass really did have brains.

"What do ya mean 'second breakfast'" asked Assiram. "Why should we give you some of our food and wait for you to finish thereby loosing our time?"

"Because we were the ones who notified you about the blasted Resistance!" Olo shouted. "Ye owe us one, Scaliwags!"

"We owe them one?" asked Assiram to his fellows. "They just didn't meet us at the right place and time thereby making it difficult for us."

"I thought we had cleared this problem up," said Olo with some difficulty.

"Obviously not," said Assiram.

"We are not moving," said Olo and Brass together. "Not until breakfast, leastways."

"You'll move, and you'll come with us," said Assiram angrily, as he gestured to his two cohorts. With a shrug, they strode towards the hobbits and lifted them bodily to their shoulders.

"Let us go!" they shrieked, Olo biting and kicking the men violently. "Put us down!"

"We don't have time to deal with the likes o' you," said Assiram coldly. "We have our leaf an' other loot to get...as well as to stop the rebellion," he added as an afterthought.

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