Breelanders All! RPG

[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 ]