Breelanders All! RPG

[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.