[Arvedui III]

29 October
A gentle breeze floated lazily through the green hill country as Brass and his fellow sheriffs trotted towards Tuckburrow. Or, his fellow sheriffs trotted, anyway. Brass had, from the start, absolutely no intention of walking any faster than he was required to. Walking was work, after all, and the wonderful day, which was far too pretty for any type of work, he concluded, had throughly backed Brass's thoughts on the subject. By mid-day, the journey turned uneventful. and even the lush green landscape couldn't halt Brass's untimely boredom.

Early in the day, Olo had somehow swindled a farmer out of his weed. Although Brass could not for the life of him follow what the sly hobbit said, the weed was excellent, and he supposed that was all that mattered. Afterwards, they had hitched a few rides on the east road. Despite Hob's attempts at conversation, the drivers seemed to be very disagreeable folks, answering with little more than a ‘yes' or ‘no'. So at the time, Brass was glad that they were now cutting across country to get to Tookland faster. Yet boredom set in, and now with Olo about ten paces ahead of him, and Hob a good twenty, Brass sighed against the weight of the pack on his back, the miles still ahead of them, and the lack of any apparent energy, even in such a lush part of the Shire. From farther up, Olo groaned and turned back to him, "Keep up, Brass, would you?"

Perhaps this mission wouldn't be as fine as he had first believed