Elendor
Negotiation's Negations
Leris and Ranon (played by Keldean) discuss a proper exchange for pipeweed with Thilo (played by Boldibad). Negotiations take a negative turn.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Michel Delving, the Shire
Game Date: Between May 7-12, 3045
IC Time: Mid-morning
Weather: N/A
Description: Logfile from Elendor.
NOV 3, 2008.
IC: Between MAY 7-12, 3045
LOCATION: Michel Delving, the Shire.
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Thilo(#22742PeA+cf)
This is a hobbit of average height. His weight is, by Shire standards, respectable. Reddish, brown hair adorns his head, kept a couple of inches long and a little curly. His nose stands prominently out on his face, looking somewhat bulbous. Dimples peek out from each side of his mouth from time to time.
Trousers of a dark brown color adorn his lower half. A belt of black leather has been wrapped about his waist. The cuffs brush the top of his curled foothair.
A white, cotton shirt is worn under a finely-made waistcoat of dark green with a gold-embroidered checker design. The stem of a pipe protrudes from his one breast pocket, which resides on his left side.
This hobbit's feet are not adorned by any form of shoe or boot. The hair that grows there is trimmed and combed nicely.
Carrying:
Thilo(#28016ep)
Boldibad's Fireworks Parent (FW)(#28171LV)
Garden(#4884V)
Boldibad's Deluxe Fishing Hole Parent (FP)(#21281Van)
Bow
----------------------------------------
Leris
This dwarf is of average build for the race, but the brown beard with a slight wave to it is shorter than is usual, just covering the chest. Hair falls longer behind, a smooth brown both are unbuond The dwarf's flat and angular face is smooth and unscarred with dark, nearly black eyes.
This one is dressed very simply, no fine jewels or precious metals in evidence at all. Simple split robes hang to ankle-length, and beneath this are sturdy blue trousers over black boots.
Carrying:
Prudence's House(#26772Cn)
----------------------------------------
Keldean
Keldean is slim young man with auburn curls that hang lazily about his face, barely brushing his shoulders. His eyes are brown, set on a fair colored face that still has the smoothness of youth and is free of beard. He's wearing a pair of simple linen trousers over a dirty, cream colored shirt, with a dark blue overshirt to keep off the chill of the season. Worn leather boots and belt finish the ensemble, giving the youth of fourteen or fifteen a common appearance.
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It's a khazad with thick black hair and beard that steps into the tavern, the dwarf catching the door before it slams into Leris who is following. Ranon is wearing studded leather armor over sturdy travel clothes and has a battleaxe hanging from a black leather belt. Green eyes look over the room before the stout dwarf heads for the bar to order drinks.
The dwarf behind, nearly as stout as the first, hesitates at the door, looking around the room with dark eyes. Leris then follows Ranon. "The food is good enough to nearly make one hungry even though it is only mid-morning!"
The door swings open gently, letting in the afternoon sunlight. A middle-aged hobbit, dressed in fine clothing (for a hobbit), enters and takes a look around. His attention goes toward the dwarves and he smiles, beginning to approach them. As he walks, he pulls a pipe from beneath his waistcoat. "Er, hello there, sirs," he says, bowing. "I saw you when you entered the village. I am Thilo Bracegirdle of Hardbottle--at your service!" He bows once again, but stands a few steps further than one normally would.
Leris, closer to the door, turns around first. The dwarf's eyes widen slightly at Thilo, and then Leris places a hand at stomach and bows swiftly. "Leris, son of Dwanim, at your service and your family's."
Ranon orders a couple of beers, and then turns to look on the hobbit that's greeting him and his kin. He bows low, "Good day, master Bracegirdle." He straightens, "I am Ranon, Ranor's son, of clan Bundazanul. At your service." He smiles widely behind his black beard.
Thilo bows for a third time, this time stepping a little closer as his trust begins to sprout. "Well met, Mr. Ranon. Well met, Mr. Leris." He smiles as charmingly as he can, adding, "May your beards always grow longer!" He bows for a fourth time.
"May the hair on your toes never fall out!" Leris answers politely. The dwarf takes a casual step back toward the bar and shoots a glance at Ranon.
Eyebright(#19795V)
You see a young, plump, cheery hobbit-lady, wearing a plain yellow dress with a brown apron. Her hair is tucked up in a loose bun, with several strands escaping. She wears a nametag: "Eyebright Smallburrow."
OOC Help
menu - Gives a listing of all drinks and food served by Eyebright
order- - Places an order with Eyebright
+give Eyebright= - Pays for your order
inquire about * - Asks about a menu item.
"I ordered drinks for us, Leris." Ranon says, then moves to take a seat at a table nearby. "What do you do, Master Bracegirdle?" The dwarf asks in a low, rumbling voice.
Thilo clears his throat at the mention of drinks. But, he pulls a little, leather pouch from beneath his waistcoat. As soon as he flips it open, the strong, flavorful aroma of fresh pipeweed floats toward the faces of those present. He packs a pinch of it into his pipe, and fumbles for his flint/steel with a quivering hand--which was not noticeable up until this instant. "I deal in pipeweed, Mr. Ranon. The best you can find in any of these farthings! And I have some connections with certain plantations. And yourselves, if I might inquire?"
Thilo hems, "Excuse me."
Eyebright shows you a menu:
------------DRINK------------- -------------FOOD-------------
Cider 2 cp Bacon & Eggs 5 cp
Mead 4 cp Steak Dinner 15 cp
Dark Amber Ale 5 cp Chicken Dinner 15 cp
Misty Mt. Ale 5 cp Spareribs 10 cp
Red Amber Ale 5 cp Fried Mushrooms 5 cp
Dwarven Ale 5 cp Baked Taters 4 cp
Newbury Blush 5 cp Ham Sandwich 3 cp
Elderberry Wine 7 cp Beef Sandwich 3 cp
Dandelion Wine 4 cp Pancakes 3 cp
Firemark '09 7 cp Dozen Tookies 1 cp
Firemark '08 8 cp
Firemark '07 9 cp
Brandy 10 cp
Eyebright pulls a glass out from behind the bar and fills it up with Brandy. She smiles and says, "That'll be 10 copper for the Brandy, if you please..."
Eyebright smiles and hands the Brandy to Thilo.
"Thank you." Leris moves to Ranon's table and seats. This dwarf's voice is quieter than the other's rumbling. "The caravan is here mainly on a trading venture. I am not a trader myself, but perhaps Ranon...?" A querying glance is thrown to the other dwarf.
"Aye.. pipeweed. It smells quite good, master hobbit." Ranon says, grinning. The server brings by the beer and the black-haired dwarf picks it up and takes a long drink. "I work with metal. I've heard Old Toby is the best pipeweed, but my mind may be changed."
Thilo moves over to the table the dwarfs are seated at. The well-rounded hobbit helps himself to a seat while puffing upon his pipe. Then, he takes a small sip of brandy, and sets it on the table. "Old Toby," he nods emphatically, "is an old variety, and quite magnificent--if you can stand the taste. It's rather strong, more suited to fine mountain folk, as yourselves. Most respectable hobbits, however, prefer the richer Longbottom Leaf, a sample of which I have in my pouch here." He drops the pouch on the table. "Help yourselves. Er, I'm not sure if I'd have much of a use for metals."
"Longbottom.. hmm?" Ranon reaches for the offered pouch after pulling out a carved and polished wooden pipe. "I think I'd like to try this, Master Bracegirdle and see if I have been missing out. My thanks." He packs some of the leaf into his pipe, then passes the bag to Leris and lights the pipe.
"I've left my pipe back in the wagon," Leris says in a gruff voice, pushing the bag back toward Ranon. "I must regretfully pass this time. I do hear Longbottom Leaf is very fine indeed."
Leris gives a very small and wry smile. "No use for metal? I take it you do not have beltbuckles or a pocket watch?"
Thilo stops short his next sip of brandy and looks directly at Ranon. Then, he smiles confidently and leans back in his seat. "Mr. Ranon," he says, "you will be angry that nobody offered you this particular type of weed sooner. You have certainly missed out on a satisfying smoke." His hand can be seen quivering again as he strikes a spark to his pipe with the flint/steel in hand. Puffing on it a moment, he then removes it and says, "Of course, good sir. But, there are others who buy metals--I have spent my life around pipeweed, and the plantation country, myself. Perhaps there is something else you could offer? I will buy rare pipes!"
Ranon puffs at his pipe a few times, leaning back in the chair to really taste the smoke and consider it. "Aye, it is good. That it is." The dwarf is thoughtful when Thilo brings up the topic of trade again. "I fear I am traveling rather light these days, but.. this pipe I have now was carved by a master woodcrafter in Erebor, the Lonely Mountain to the east." He pulls it from his teeth to show to the hobbit.
The pipe is well-crafted, with some ornate toolings on the bell and a smooth, polished finish.
Leris leans forward on elbows, looking a bit too large in the hobbit-sized chair, to get a closer glance at Ranon's pipe. The dwarf's dark eyes briefly unfocus and then blink hard.
Leris leans back again. "There aren't any proper mines in the Shire, are there? Hobbit-holes carved in stone instead of dirt?"
Thilo takes hold of the pipe and looks it over briefly. "It's an interesting piece. Something of dwarven-make is always popular in these parts. How much would you accept for it?" He puffs on his own pipe, passing the other back across the table. "Mines? There is one of some importance in the Bridgefields area. To the east!"
"I would be depriving myself of my only pipe.. so I suppose I'll need something of local make to replace it and some of that fine pipeweed. We have a long trip ahead, I'll be needing to stock up." Ranon takes a drag from the pipe, then blows it out slowly.
Leris nods slowly at Thilo's answer and glances away, watching a hobbit lass while taking a long, slow drink of beer. The mug is lowered. "I know that we have toys and fireworks on this caravan as well. My master has told me that hobbits like these."
Thilo clears his throat, taking another sip of brandy. "I don't mean to be rude in any way, sirs. But, your pipe, although interesting, it not worth a barrel of Longbottom Leaf. I would need something in exchange. I do accept metal in the form of coins!" He smiles and gestures toward the door, "Why, I have 5 barrels with me now." Thinking for a moment, eyebrow cocked, he adds, "Did you say, fireworks? Do go on, master Leris!"
"Not worth it?" Ranon asks with a doubting chuckle. "That is fine, though. I am certain that you can find pipes from the halls of Erebor anytime of year." He says, settling back again comfortably. "Perhaps I will hold out for Old Toby." The dwarf grows quiet and looks to Leris as well.
"Who had the fireworks, did you see, Ranon?" Leris's dark eyes rest on the other dwarf. "Was it Master Foril? I have read that it is one of the gifts of the dwarves, that no other peoples in any land can craft fireworks as clever as our people do." Briefly Leris frowns, still looking at Ranon.
Thilo leans forward on the table, letting himself go for a moment. Mumbling to himself, "Ere-bor, Ere-bor... I'm sorry, my eyes just aren't trained to distinguish such things. You fine folk may see a pipe of Ere-bor, but most hobbits, no matter how respectable, would see a _dwarven_ pipe. And so, I must think carefully before spending more than can afford, I'm afraid. Now," he leans back in his seat again, "These fire curiosities may be of interest."
Ranon grins and offers Leris a small shrug, mirth in his gaze. "Perhaps. I'm not certain, I've been busy with the wagon of weaponry." The dwarf's green eyes travel back to Thilo. "Erebor is also known as the Lonely Mountain. It's where the dragon, Smaug, resided until my kin and I believe one of yours drove him out of the mountain. But I'm sure the fireworks will bring you more wealth.. Though, one cannot enjoy a firework more than once." The last is said almost sadly.
"The realm of the King Under the Mountain," Leris says while leaning back. "I believe that whole business started right in the Shire. Some of the dwarves who drove out the dragon are still around, too."
Thilo laughs heartilly, "One of ours? Sir, it is doubtful! To think!" He takes a gulp of brandy quite quickly. "A hobbit shooing a dragon! How uncouth--what a fantasy!" He sniffs, unable to grasp such an idea.
"So I hear." Ranon says, and grows quiet now, glancing to Leris again as he runs his fingers through his beard. "Do you recall the name of the burglar that the company took along?"
Leris's brows draw together in a look of confusion. "I don't believe I am mistaken. I read the accounts. It was a... Bibo Baggins? Bilo? I don't have the name right, but I'm sure a hobbit from the Shire had something to do with it."
Thilo's eyes widen. "Bi-Bilbo Ba-Ba-Ba-Baggins?" His hand begins to quiver rapidly. "He got mixed up with a strange, old fellow. Next thing you know, disappeared from the Shire. You are telling me that Old Bilbo, old Mad Baggins, went up against a beast from a bedtime tale?" He laughs again, shaking his head. "It's funny how rumors spread, even, apparantly, as far as your own fine lands." He clears his throat, "Anyhow, the old fellow cracked Baggins got involved with used to bring fireworks of his own to the Shire. I'd greatly like to see one of yours!"
"You doubt the word of a dwarf, master hobbit?" Ranon asks, frowning now. "My cousin tells you truely. The same is told far to the east, and in the Blue Mountains to the west. Perhaps you have too much pipeweed stuffed into your ears."
Leris reaches out and lays a hand briefly on Ranon's shoulder in a friendly way while leaning toward Thilo. "And you can have as many fireworks as you can afford if you visit our caravan, good Master Bracegirdle. I am certain that the dwarves are quite willing for your Longbottom Leaf in return, for very little of it will grow in the mines beneath the earth!"
Thilo glares at Ranon. "Or 'so Mr. Leris heard,' as I understood it, Mr. Ranon. Now, let's not argue with each other over... questionable issues--at least issues considered to be so within the Shire! I would be grateful if the conversation found its way back to the original discussion." He smiles neutrally at this point, and goes ahead and lights his pipe again. Pipe held in his lips, he speaks, "I can supply you your Longbottom Leaf. That I can most certainly do."
"Master Leris is correct. I remember a halfling burglar mentioned in the stories and he was from these lands. If you doubt my kin, you doubt me as well. You call us liars?" Ranon asks in a gruff manner, scowling now.
Leris is looking at Ranon now. The calmer dwarf takes a slow breath in through the nose and releases it as a sigh.
Thilo stands from the table, his bottom lip pressed upward tightly. He snatches his bag of pipeweed. He turns to Leris, and says, somewhat outraged, "I've met a number of your admirable kin, Mr. Leris, in the past. But I have always been impressed by their kindness! I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like some of us here can agree to disagree. I will be on my way!"
Ranon doesn't say much, only scoffs behind his beard. He watches the hobbit leave, then looks over to his kin. "Old Toby is better." The Bundazanul states, not quietly. He does take the time to enjoy the rest of the smoke, though.
< E N D >
NOV 3, 2008.
IC: Between MAY 7-12, 3045
LOCATION: Michel Delving, the Shire.
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Thilo(#22742PeA+cf)
This is a hobbit of average height. His weight is, by Shire standards, respectable. Reddish, brown hair adorns his head, kept a couple of inches long and a little curly. His nose stands prominently out on his face, looking somewhat bulbous. Dimples peek out from each side of his mouth from time to time.
Trousers of a dark brown color adorn his lower half. A belt of black leather has been wrapped about his waist. The cuffs brush the top of his curled foothair.
A white, cotton shirt is worn under a finely-made waistcoat of dark green with a gold-embroidered checker design. The stem of a pipe protrudes from his one breast pocket, which resides on his left side.
This hobbit's feet are not adorned by any form of shoe or boot. The hair that grows there is trimmed and combed nicely.
Carrying:
Thilo(#28016ep)
Boldibad's Fireworks Parent (FW)(#28171LV)
Garden(#4884V)
Boldibad's Deluxe Fishing Hole Parent (FP)(#21281Van)
Bow
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Leris
This dwarf is of average build for the race, but the brown beard with a slight wave to it is shorter than is usual, just covering the chest. Hair falls longer behind, a smooth brown both are unbuond The dwarf's flat and angular face is smooth and unscarred with dark, nearly black eyes.
This one is dressed very simply, no fine jewels or precious metals in evidence at all. Simple split robes hang to ankle-length, and beneath this are sturdy blue trousers over black boots.
Carrying:
Prudence's House(#26772Cn)
----------------------------------------
Keldean
Keldean is slim young man with auburn curls that hang lazily about his face, barely brushing his shoulders. His eyes are brown, set on a fair colored face that still has the smoothness of youth and is free of beard. He's wearing a pair of simple linen trousers over a dirty, cream colored shirt, with a dark blue overshirt to keep off the chill of the season. Worn leather boots and belt finish the ensemble, giving the youth of fourteen or fifteen a common appearance.
----------------------------------------
It's a khazad with thick black hair and beard that steps into the tavern, the dwarf catching the door before it slams into Leris who is following. Ranon is wearing studded leather armor over sturdy travel clothes and has a battleaxe hanging from a black leather belt. Green eyes look over the room before the stout dwarf heads for the bar to order drinks.
The dwarf behind, nearly as stout as the first, hesitates at the door, looking around the room with dark eyes. Leris then follows Ranon. "The food is good enough to nearly make one hungry even though it is only mid-morning!"
The door swings open gently, letting in the afternoon sunlight. A middle-aged hobbit, dressed in fine clothing (for a hobbit), enters and takes a look around. His attention goes toward the dwarves and he smiles, beginning to approach them. As he walks, he pulls a pipe from beneath his waistcoat. "Er, hello there, sirs," he says, bowing. "I saw you when you entered the village. I am Thilo Bracegirdle of Hardbottle--at your service!" He bows once again, but stands a few steps further than one normally would.
Leris, closer to the door, turns around first. The dwarf's eyes widen slightly at Thilo, and then Leris places a hand at stomach and bows swiftly. "Leris, son of Dwanim, at your service and your family's."
Ranon orders a couple of beers, and then turns to look on the hobbit that's greeting him and his kin. He bows low, "Good day, master Bracegirdle." He straightens, "I am Ranon, Ranor's son, of clan Bundazanul. At your service." He smiles widely behind his black beard.
Thilo bows for a third time, this time stepping a little closer as his trust begins to sprout. "Well met, Mr. Ranon. Well met, Mr. Leris." He smiles as charmingly as he can, adding, "May your beards always grow longer!" He bows for a fourth time.
"May the hair on your toes never fall out!" Leris answers politely. The dwarf takes a casual step back toward the bar and shoots a glance at Ranon.
Eyebright(#19795V)
You see a young, plump, cheery hobbit-lady, wearing a plain yellow dress with a brown apron. Her hair is tucked up in a loose bun, with several strands escaping. She wears a nametag: "Eyebright Smallburrow."
OOC Help
menu - Gives a listing of all drinks and food served by Eyebright
order
+give Eyebright=
inquire about * - Asks about a menu item.
"I ordered drinks for us, Leris." Ranon says, then moves to take a seat at a table nearby. "What do you do, Master Bracegirdle?" The dwarf asks in a low, rumbling voice.
Thilo clears his throat at the mention of drinks. But, he pulls a little, leather pouch from beneath his waistcoat. As soon as he flips it open, the strong, flavorful aroma of fresh pipeweed floats toward the faces of those present. He packs a pinch of it into his pipe, and fumbles for his flint/steel with a quivering hand--which was not noticeable up until this instant. "I deal in pipeweed, Mr. Ranon. The best you can find in any of these farthings! And I have some connections with certain plantations. And yourselves, if I might inquire?"
Thilo hems, "Excuse me."
Eyebright shows you a menu:
------------DRINK------------- -------------FOOD-------------
Cider 2 cp Bacon & Eggs 5 cp
Mead 4 cp Steak Dinner 15 cp
Dark Amber Ale 5 cp Chicken Dinner 15 cp
Misty Mt. Ale 5 cp Spareribs 10 cp
Red Amber Ale 5 cp Fried Mushrooms 5 cp
Dwarven Ale 5 cp Baked Taters 4 cp
Newbury Blush 5 cp Ham Sandwich 3 cp
Elderberry Wine 7 cp Beef Sandwich 3 cp
Dandelion Wine 4 cp Pancakes 3 cp
Firemark '09 7 cp Dozen Tookies 1 cp
Firemark '08 8 cp
Firemark '07 9 cp
Brandy 10 cp
Eyebright pulls a glass out from behind the bar and fills it up with Brandy. She smiles and says, "That'll be 10 copper for the Brandy, if you please..."
Eyebright smiles and hands the Brandy to Thilo.
"Thank you." Leris moves to Ranon's table and seats. This dwarf's voice is quieter than the other's rumbling. "The caravan is here mainly on a trading venture. I am not a trader myself, but perhaps Ranon...?" A querying glance is thrown to the other dwarf.
"Aye.. pipeweed. It smells quite good, master hobbit." Ranon says, grinning. The server brings by the beer and the black-haired dwarf picks it up and takes a long drink. "I work with metal. I've heard Old Toby is the best pipeweed, but my mind may be changed."
Thilo moves over to the table the dwarfs are seated at. The well-rounded hobbit helps himself to a seat while puffing upon his pipe. Then, he takes a small sip of brandy, and sets it on the table. "Old Toby," he nods emphatically, "is an old variety, and quite magnificent--if you can stand the taste. It's rather strong, more suited to fine mountain folk, as yourselves. Most respectable hobbits, however, prefer the richer Longbottom Leaf, a sample of which I have in my pouch here." He drops the pouch on the table. "Help yourselves. Er, I'm not sure if I'd have much of a use for metals."
"Longbottom.. hmm?" Ranon reaches for the offered pouch after pulling out a carved and polished wooden pipe. "I think I'd like to try this, Master Bracegirdle and see if I have been missing out. My thanks." He packs some of the leaf into his pipe, then passes the bag to Leris and lights the pipe.
"I've left my pipe back in the wagon," Leris says in a gruff voice, pushing the bag back toward Ranon. "I must regretfully pass this time. I do hear Longbottom Leaf is very fine indeed."
Leris gives a very small and wry smile. "No use for metal? I take it you do not have beltbuckles or a pocket watch?"
Thilo stops short his next sip of brandy and looks directly at Ranon. Then, he smiles confidently and leans back in his seat. "Mr. Ranon," he says, "you will be angry that nobody offered you this particular type of weed sooner. You have certainly missed out on a satisfying smoke." His hand can be seen quivering again as he strikes a spark to his pipe with the flint/steel in hand. Puffing on it a moment, he then removes it and says, "Of course, good sir. But, there are others who buy metals--I have spent my life around pipeweed, and the plantation country, myself. Perhaps there is something else you could offer? I will buy rare pipes!"
Ranon puffs at his pipe a few times, leaning back in the chair to really taste the smoke and consider it. "Aye, it is good. That it is." The dwarf is thoughtful when Thilo brings up the topic of trade again. "I fear I am traveling rather light these days, but.. this pipe I have now was carved by a master woodcrafter in Erebor, the Lonely Mountain to the east." He pulls it from his teeth to show to the hobbit.
The pipe is well-crafted, with some ornate toolings on the bell and a smooth, polished finish.
Leris leans forward on elbows, looking a bit too large in the hobbit-sized chair, to get a closer glance at Ranon's pipe. The dwarf's dark eyes briefly unfocus and then blink hard.
Leris leans back again. "There aren't any proper mines in the Shire, are there? Hobbit-holes carved in stone instead of dirt?"
Thilo takes hold of the pipe and looks it over briefly. "It's an interesting piece. Something of dwarven-make is always popular in these parts. How much would you accept for it?" He puffs on his own pipe, passing the other back across the table. "Mines? There is one of some importance in the Bridgefields area. To the east!"
"I would be depriving myself of my only pipe.. so I suppose I'll need something of local make to replace it and some of that fine pipeweed. We have a long trip ahead, I'll be needing to stock up." Ranon takes a drag from the pipe, then blows it out slowly.
Leris nods slowly at Thilo's answer and glances away, watching a hobbit lass while taking a long, slow drink of beer. The mug is lowered. "I know that we have toys and fireworks on this caravan as well. My master has told me that hobbits like these."
Thilo clears his throat, taking another sip of brandy. "I don't mean to be rude in any way, sirs. But, your pipe, although interesting, it not worth a barrel of Longbottom Leaf. I would need something in exchange. I do accept metal in the form of coins!" He smiles and gestures toward the door, "Why, I have 5 barrels with me now." Thinking for a moment, eyebrow cocked, he adds, "Did you say, fireworks? Do go on, master Leris!"
"Not worth it?" Ranon asks with a doubting chuckle. "That is fine, though. I am certain that you can find pipes from the halls of Erebor anytime of year." He says, settling back again comfortably. "Perhaps I will hold out for Old Toby." The dwarf grows quiet and looks to Leris as well.
"Who had the fireworks, did you see, Ranon?" Leris's dark eyes rest on the other dwarf. "Was it Master Foril? I have read that it is one of the gifts of the dwarves, that no other peoples in any land can craft fireworks as clever as our people do." Briefly Leris frowns, still looking at Ranon.
Thilo leans forward on the table, letting himself go for a moment. Mumbling to himself, "Ere-bor, Ere-bor... I'm sorry, my eyes just aren't trained to distinguish such things. You fine folk may see a pipe of Ere-bor, but most hobbits, no matter how respectable, would see a _dwarven_ pipe. And so, I must think carefully before spending more than can afford, I'm afraid. Now," he leans back in his seat again, "These fire curiosities may be of interest."
Ranon grins and offers Leris a small shrug, mirth in his gaze. "Perhaps. I'm not certain, I've been busy with the wagon of weaponry." The dwarf's green eyes travel back to Thilo. "Erebor is also known as the Lonely Mountain. It's where the dragon, Smaug, resided until my kin and I believe one of yours drove him out of the mountain. But I'm sure the fireworks will bring you more wealth.. Though, one cannot enjoy a firework more than once." The last is said almost sadly.
"The realm of the King Under the Mountain," Leris says while leaning back. "I believe that whole business started right in the Shire. Some of the dwarves who drove out the dragon are still around, too."
Thilo laughs heartilly, "One of ours? Sir, it is doubtful! To think!" He takes a gulp of brandy quite quickly. "A hobbit shooing a dragon! How uncouth--what a fantasy!" He sniffs, unable to grasp such an idea.
"So I hear." Ranon says, and grows quiet now, glancing to Leris again as he runs his fingers through his beard. "Do you recall the name of the burglar that the company took along?"
Leris's brows draw together in a look of confusion. "I don't believe I am mistaken. I read the accounts. It was a... Bibo Baggins? Bilo? I don't have the name right, but I'm sure a hobbit from the Shire had something to do with it."
Thilo's eyes widen. "Bi-Bilbo Ba-Ba-Ba-Baggins?" His hand begins to quiver rapidly. "He got mixed up with a strange, old fellow. Next thing you know, disappeared from the Shire. You are telling me that Old Bilbo, old Mad Baggins, went up against a beast from a bedtime tale?" He laughs again, shaking his head. "It's funny how rumors spread, even, apparantly, as far as your own fine lands." He clears his throat, "Anyhow, the old fellow cracked Baggins got involved with used to bring fireworks of his own to the Shire. I'd greatly like to see one of yours!"
"You doubt the word of a dwarf, master hobbit?" Ranon asks, frowning now. "My cousin tells you truely. The same is told far to the east, and in the Blue Mountains to the west. Perhaps you have too much pipeweed stuffed into your ears."
Leris reaches out and lays a hand briefly on Ranon's shoulder in a friendly way while leaning toward Thilo. "And you can have as many fireworks as you can afford if you visit our caravan, good Master Bracegirdle. I am certain that the dwarves are quite willing for your Longbottom Leaf in return, for very little of it will grow in the mines beneath the earth!"
Thilo glares at Ranon. "Or 'so Mr. Leris heard,' as I understood it, Mr. Ranon. Now, let's not argue with each other over... questionable issues--at least issues considered to be so within the Shire! I would be grateful if the conversation found its way back to the original discussion." He smiles neutrally at this point, and goes ahead and lights his pipe again. Pipe held in his lips, he speaks, "I can supply you your Longbottom Leaf. That I can most certainly do."
"Master Leris is correct. I remember a halfling burglar mentioned in the stories and he was from these lands. If you doubt my kin, you doubt me as well. You call us liars?" Ranon asks in a gruff manner, scowling now.
Leris is looking at Ranon now. The calmer dwarf takes a slow breath in through the nose and releases it as a sigh.
Thilo stands from the table, his bottom lip pressed upward tightly. He snatches his bag of pipeweed. He turns to Leris, and says, somewhat outraged, "I've met a number of your admirable kin, Mr. Leris, in the past. But I have always been impressed by their kindness! I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like some of us here can agree to disagree. I will be on my way!"
Ranon doesn't say much, only scoffs behind his beard. He watches the hobbit leave, then looks over to his kin. "Old Toby is better." The Bundazanul states, not quietly. He does take the time to enjoy the rest of the smoke, though.
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Players: Boldibad, Keldean, Leris, Shire, EL, Ered-luin, luin
