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It was an accident, honest!

Tags: Brandebras,  Gidon,  Brev

Short Summary: A wet and muddy morning provides ample opportunity for Brandebras Bywater to excercise his famed ability to cause accidents
Date (real-life): 2010-07-08
Scene Location: Bree: Smial Rise
Date (in-game): May 3050
Time of Day: Morning
Weather: Wet
Smial Rise - At the Smials(#27941Rto)

The road winds up the side of Bree Hill, going past many hobbit smials on the way to the hilltop. The view from here is lovely, looking out over the city of Bree and the lands beyond to the west. On a clear day, one can see the Blue Mountains far, far to the west.

Obvious exits:
 South leads to Above the Prancing Pony.
 Overhill Smial leads to Overhill Smial - Entrance Hall.
 Leafturner Smial leads to Leafturner Smial - Living Room.
 Up leads to Near the Top of Bree Hill.
 Broad Way leads to Broad Way - North Bree.

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Thu Jul 08 15:47:12 2010
Bree time: Dawn <07:21:36> on Mersday of Spring - May 18,1450
Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous Moon

Breelands Weather
The dawn spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The day sky still dumps copious amounts of rain down upon you.
===============================================================================

It's a lovely spring morning - or rather, it would be, were not it for the steady trickle of raindrops from the pale sky above. Everything is cool and green and moist, and one can almost see the grass lengthening in response to the overabundance of moisture.

Few of Bree's hobbit-population have braved it out of doors as yet, but one hardy soul emerges from a smial (locking it carefully behind him, of course!) and starts trudging along the muddy path that is the quickest (if perhaps not safest) route to the Prancing Pony, clutching an umbrella in one damp hand. A few moments later there is a squelch, a squeal and the small rotund figure finds himself sliding speedily downhill with his umbrella trailing behind like a parachute.

[Nob(#16122)] There is someone else climbing up the road in this dreary weather; Gidon is wrapped in his father's cloak, carrying a bag over one shoulder and pausing at each house to peer at it hopefully. Now he has moved into the hobbit section, and is walking faster - clearly, whatever house he is looking for does not contain hobbits! He stops and peers upward - anything more than just smials here...?

CRASH

The boy goes careening over backwards, his bag flying one way; his cloak tangling around his legs and arms.

That flapping cloak catches a spoke of the hobbit's trailing umbrella, and the poor creature's slide comes to an abrupt end. There is a short silence, broken only by rapid breathing, and then the hobbit-shape that had been lying so still rolls over and sits up. Two brown eyes open in an equally brown face, and a mud-encrusted Brandebras Bywater utters his usual refrain: "I'm so sorry. I didn't /mean/ to ..." Under all that mud, who can tell if he's blushing. He peers worriedly at his latest victim. "Are - uh, are you all right?"

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon is lying on his side, his arm twisted underneath him. His face is white underneath the mud that liberally adorns it. "I... think so," he says and tries to sit up. Instead, he gasps, turns whiter and sinks back.

The umbrella, alas, is not all right. Several of the spokes have snapped and the whol thing is bent backwards. Brandebras looks at it ruefully even whilst listening to Gidon. "Oh well. I suppose at least the rain will wash the mud off," he remarks philosophically, leaving it where it was, then returns to inspecting the prone youth. "You don't /look/ all right," he points out, frowning, then trots the few steps between them - truly, hobbits are very resilient creatures - and extends a grimy hand. "Would you like a hand up?" He bites his lip and repeats, "I truly didn't /mean/ to knock you down ..."

[Nob(#16122)] "My arm," Gidon says. He extends the hand he's not lying on, and grits his teeth. "Think I ... twisted it."

Brandebras, listening to this, bites his lip again and looks rather worried. "Oh dear," he murmurs lamely at last; then simply grabs Gidon's good hand and heaves.

Alas, everything including his hand is still slick with mud and rain - the net result of his first effort is to set his own feet skidding again. With a yell he grabs at Gidon's tangled cloak.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon manages to get sat up, and his arm out from under him - perhaps there is more wrong with it than a simply sprain, for the effort drains all the blood from his face - and when Brandebras grabs his cloak yanking him over again, he yelps. This time, thankfully, he lands on his good arm, and is able to lever himself up. He gets to his feet and backs away from the Catastrophe Hobbit, cradling his injured arm.

Brandebras, of course, is by now flat on his back and getting wetter by the minute. He peers up through the rain-deluge at Gidon and offers helpfully, "Oops. I didn't realize it was so slippy." This time he gets up very gingerly - and retains his footing. Both furry feet are so plastered in mud that it looks almost as though he's wearing boots.

Then he notices the way Gidon's cradling his arm. "That looks .. uh, bad," he offers miserably, wincing in sympathy. "Shall I help you to the Healers' House? Or maybe I should run and fetch someone? I'm very quick."

[Nob(#16122)] The boy's face is tight, and alarm fills it at Brandebras' offer to help him. "Ah," he says, then nods hurriedly at the second suggestion. "You could .. get someone," he says.

"Are you sure?" Brandebras looks almost surprised - but then, thank heavens, he nods. "I'll be right back, then." He takes a few steps, stops. "Is that /your/ bag?" He retrieves the forlorn-looking object lying in the grass on the other side of the path and sets it down beside Gidon. "And I am sorry." With that he scurries off, head hanging low as though he were embarrassed. Of course, the path hasn't got any less muddy and no sooner is he round a bend than there's the sound of a splash and a muffled, "Oops." Perhaps not /that/ quick, then.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods as the bag is set down beside him, and watches the hobbit scurry off. The distant splash almost makes him laugh - then, very gingerly, he sits down to wait. Hopefully, the rain will lessen soon!

There is someone coming down the path from Bree Hill (Bree Hill? In this weather?), someone larger and much more careful of his steps than an accident-prone hobbit. That 'someone' is grey-cloaked and hard to distinguish against the general background, but as he approaches his outline becomes clearer: a tall figure, booted and with hooded head continually turning this way and that as though scanning the surroundings. The unknown's gaze fixes on the seated youth, and then a familiar sing-song voice enquires, "Gidon? Kiern, lad, you could have chosen a drier spot for a seat." Brev himself, it should be noted, is drenched; clearly he's been out in the rain for some time.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon is watching glumly down the road where Brandebras has disappeared - resigned to waiting for the hobbit to come back, hopefully with someone else! His head snaps around at Brev's voice, and his voice is full of relief. "Brev!" And he manages a bit of a joke, though his smile is rather forced. "Y'aint too dry, neither..."

Brev snorts. "Aye, bloody weather. Which is why," he pauses, glancing downwards, "I'm headed down yonder. Stables are usually dry - not like that half-arsed stablemaster ever bothers checking them either. Eh, his loss." Seems he's been hanging round town when he's not been at Gidon's place in Archet then.

The hooded head tilts as he looks down at the way Gidon's sitting, and he queries, more gently, "Arm been bothering you?"

[Nob(#16122)] The boy listens, nodding, but it is probably clear that most of his attention is not on what Brev is telling him. He glances down and nods, then looks up again. "Got knocked down," he says. "Think I twisted it when I fell."

A moment's silence, then Brev pushes closer, close enough that Gidon, looking up, will see the glitter of his gaze and the frown on his features beneath the hood. He holds out a hand. "Want me to take a look? Wouldn't trust those town healers as far as I could kick them ... hmm, come to think of it, could probably send some of those wee rabbity fellows quite a distance. What d'you think, twelve feet maybe?" He pauses, the old familiar smirk on his features.

And, perhaps just for devilment, he adds solemnly, "You must have been overexerting it, that's what it is. Next time, tell /her/ to go on top."

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon does look up. "Aye," he says, then looks a bit horrified at Brev's suggestion. Another glance at the frown, and probably very wisely, he decides not to say anything. It is his bad arm that has been re-injured, and he reaches out with his good hand to take Brev's hand and stand up. Carefully, holding the hurt forearm in his hand, he holds it up. "Landed on m'arm," he explains - and then his gaze flies up again, his face flooding a brilliant red.

Brev's frown lightens somewhat and he chuckles softly at Gidon's discomfiture. "Gidon lad, you've got to stop doing that. Not that red doesn't suit you and all ..."

The frown returns as he peers at the injured arm, reaching out his other hand and then thinking better of it. "Should we go to your lass's house - no, wait, don't tell me, she doubtless lives with her parents. Damn Breefolk and their damn propriety." He kicks at a stone in lieu of a hobbit, sending it splashing and skittering down the muddy slope. "All right then, the Pony it is. For once they can have my coin. For you, I don't begrudge it." He hefts the mud-covered bag, then slips his arm around Gidon's shoulder to steady the youth as he guides him down the hill.

[Nob(#16122)] Gidon blushes still darker, though a smile flits across his face also. "Aye," he replies. "Said... she did." He walks alongside Brev, grunting a bit as an unwary step jars his arm. Some ways down the hill, he says, "Glad it was you; thought that hobbit'd break it, trying t'help!"

Brev arches a brow. "Some hobbit?" he repeats. "You mean one of the rabbit-men? Want me to break /him/ for you?" Surely he's joking, though it's hard to tell. But at least he's stopped scowling.

Date added: 2010-07-10 13:00:02    Hits: 166
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