(Archive) A little friendly assistance

North Farthing Crossroads

The road is narrow, and maintained rather well with gravel here. The outskirts of Oatbarton can just be seen some distance to the north, and the road carries on to the south through the countryside. A few trees grow on either side of your path, but some oat fields can be seen short distances beyond them.

 You can hear crickets chirping under a starry night sky. The lights of Frogmorton are visible to the south. Toward the north, you see a small stream reflecting the moonlight.Not nearly as many animals are to be seen or heard around here as there would have been in a warmer season, and there are no insects to be found.

Sodden and damp rain thunders down from the heavens, soaking every hobbit, man and beast that ventures out of shelter. Dark clouds fill the sky, and show no signs of relenting. The sky is veiled in cloud, hiding any trace of the moon.

Obvious exits:

 East leads to Scary.

 North leads to Oatbarton.

 South leads to North Farthing Road: Bridge over The Water.

================================= +SHIRE TIME =================================

RL (Arizona) Time is Thu Sep 23 16:22:20 2010 (+time).

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IC Time is 06:07:00 on Trewsday, Afteryule (January) 3, 1451 S.R.

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IC Weather Conditions:

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Sodden and damp rain thunders down from the heavens, soaking every hobbit, man and beast that ventures out of shelter. Dark clouds fill the sky, and show no signs of relenting. The sky is veiled in cloud, hiding any trace of the moon.

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It is only a couple of days after Yule, and most well-bred (and well-fed!) hobbits are still feeling its effects. Today was a rather pleasant day, despite the raw wind, and perhaps that is what tempted Torebras Bywater to take an afternoon stroll away from Budgeford, where he has been visiting his great friend (or at least cordial acquaintance) Mister Bolger. Now, however, the skies have darkened and the heavens have opened. Torebras is trotting along looking rather miserable, one hand clutching the sodden hat with the pheasant's feather in it, the other holding his overcoat closed. In all this rain and gloom it's hard to keep track of where one is going and he is, alas, quite lost.

[Nob(#16122)] There are others out in this night not lost. A dark shadow moves purposefully along the track, heading towards the lights of the nearby village. Until they see motion on the path - and shrink still and silent into the cover of the trees alongside.

Torebras sees nothing of this, of course. He continues his trotting until one furry foot stubs against a tree-root and he falls flat on his face into a muddy puddle. For a little while there is silence save for the hissing of raindrops - then a very loud, very miserable sneeze.

[Nob(#16122)] The sneeze is followed by a low, cruel chuckle and then a shape detaches itself from the trees and comes to stand over the fallen hobbit. "Well, well, well. And what have we got here?"

[Seregarth(#19338)]     Another shape comes out of the darkness, but he does not speak like the other. Rather, he remains silent, though a thoroughly unpleasant smile is upon his face. In one hand, he hefts a mallet a shame there is not more light..

"It's none of your business," Torebras answers indignantly, clearly not expecting any trouble. This is, after all, the Shire. "Now, if you'll excuse me ..." Shakily he tries to push himself up, no doubt expecting that the unknown laugher at his misfortune will move away.

[Nob(#16122)] No, no. That would be rude, and we can't be rude! The unknown speaker moves to help Torebras - leaning over to grab his arm and pull him upright. "I think it is my business," he says silkily. "Or about to be. Ain't that right?" He smirks at his companion.

Torebras looks surprised at the question - but he accepts the hand up. "Well now," he blusters, "that's really very kind of you, Mister- Mister-" He squints into the gloom as he tries to brush himself down with his free hand. Puffed up with his own importance, he completely fails to notice that second lurking shape with the malevolent-looking mallet.

[Seregarth(#19338)]     The mute man nods his head, laughing quietly a strange laugh it is, too, beside being the first sound this second man has made. But he does not look at the now standing hobbit no, he looks to the first man, gesturing slightly with his head and a slight movement with the mallet.

[Nob(#16122)] Very kind. Corb smirks. "Hear that?" he asks. "He called me kind." He hasn't yet moved to let go of the hobbit nor does him. He gives a small shake of his head, moving his other hand up and down in a 'calm down, not yet' gesture. "So... who might you be, my little man?" He squints through the driving rain. "You shouldn't ought t'be out like this at night..."

"It's not night-" Torebras protests, then looks around. It is, unmistakeably, dark. "I .. er, I lost track of time," he temporizes. "And I am Mister Torebras Bywater. A well-known .. ah, businessman in these parts. I expect you've heard of me, if you're in trade yourself, Mister-?" Again that note of query as though he expected the other to fill in a name.

He follows the direction of Corb's smirk, and blanches suddenly. Now /that/ fellow with the mallet doesn't look the pleasant type.

[Seregarth(#19338)]     An amused snort comes from the mute man before he nods his head slightly to the first he glances down at the hobbit with a shrug if he notices the blanch, he doesn't show it. He points at the hobbit, head tilted quizzically to the side before he mimes someone walking around. Perhaps he's asking what the hobbit is doing out.

[Nob(#16122)] "A business man," Corb says seriously. "That's right nice. We ought to escort you home. Wouldn't do for an upstanding fellow like yourself to come to any trouble." He glances sideways at his cohort. "Not any /other/ trouble," he amends himself, conscientiously. But he doesn't move. "What were you doing out here anyways, my good fellow?" To the unspoken request for a name, he is silent.

Torebras is now starting to get just a little uncomfortable. He tries to tug his arm free from Corb's grip. "Why, the same as yourself, I would imagine," he answers airily, then adds pointedly, "You know, in the Shire it is considered good manners to give one's name."

No-Tongue Ted's pantomime elicits a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head. Clearly that rough-looking fellow must be quite mad!

[Nob(#16122)] "Really?" Corb says, his voice as innocent as he can make it - not very, no doubt! "I doubt that, I really do." He draws himself up. "Corb, at your service. Corb... Dandershaw! That's it." He grins, really a large grin. "Now," he says firmly. "Just you hand over whatever purse you've got about you, Mister Bywater, and nothing further need happen."

"My - purse? Just what do you mean by that?" Torebras really sounds quite indignant - but beneath his dampened curls (the hat with its pheasant's feather has come off and rolled some distance away it now lies concealed beneath a bush) he is starting to look rather pale. "Unhand me at once!" He almost manages to say it without a quaver, though his legs are beginning to shake. And he tugs at his arm yet again.

[Nob(#16122)] "You know," Corb says, patiently. His hand tightens around the hobbit's arm, as he tries to free hiimself. "Purse. Pocketbook. Money? Don't tell me you haven't got any."

[Seregarth(#19338)]     Ted brings the mallet down upon his palm with a loud 'slap' of wood against skin, nasty grin on his face as he looks at Torebras. He shakes his head, motioning for the hobbit to calm down. Or the mallet might do it for him.

"P-purse?" Torebras stammers, all the fight going out of him suddenly. "You can have my purse, just don't-"

There is the loud thwack of Ted's mallet and the words end in a gulp. "Did /he/ send you?" His gaze darts from one brigand to the other, clearly frightened.

[Nob(#16122)] "That's right," Corb says approvingly, holding out one meaty palm. "Just you hand... 'He' who?" He nods to Ted. Good job. Keep it up.

[Seregarth(#19338)]     What Ted lacks for in talking, he makes up for in gesturial eloquence. And he can play the silent heavy /very/ well. He takes a step foward towards the hobbit, nasty grin on his face still, hefting the mallet before jerking his head towards Corb. That's either keep talking or hand over the money. Or both. Or maybe he twitches.

Torebras is shivering now. At Corb's gesture he does his best to reach his purse one-handed, wriggling a little as he feels in his pockets. Eventually said item is pulled out. It is clearly well-filled.

"W-wasn't it enough making me step down as Mayor?" he asks, his lip wobbling. "And making me move all the way out here to the Shire - is it more money you're after? I can get more money ..." His gaze falls on Ted's mallet and he babbles desperately.

[Nob(#16122)] "Mayor?" Corb asks, clearly confused. Though this doesn't stop him from snatching the purse and weighing it in one hand before tossing it to Ted. "What'd'we care about who's mayor... Wait. Of Bree? And you can get more money?" Some thoughts are working their way through his brain.

[Seregarth(#19338)]     Ted snatches the purse, laughing his odd laugh before he tucks it into a pouch on his belt. At the mention of more money and mayors, he glances at Corb, an eyebrow arched before gesturing with a hand. Perhaps a sign of they should whack the hobbit and get out?

"Then he didn't send you?" Torebras looks from one brigand to the other, confused.

He sobers up rapidly though at Ted's nasty laugh, and that hand-waving - just what was that supposed to mean? Well-bred hobbits shouldn't have to know such things ... "I can get more money, yes." The terrified Bree expatriate nods his head up and down vigorously. "Just let me go!" This last comes out as a high-pitched squeak, and the hobbit's trembling is becoming increasingly violent. Any moment now it will all be too much.

[Nob(#16122)] "G'wan then," Corb says, giving the arm he still holds a shake. "But don't you be telling nobody about us, d'you hear? Not nobody! We'll be t'see you, we will. Soon, like, too. And maybe..." But he says nothing more, only drops Torebras' arm and jerks his head at Ted. "Don't whack him yet," he says in a low voice - but not so low the hobbit couldn't hear! - "We'll get some more money out of him yet, I'll be bound!"

[Seregarth(#19338)]     No-Tongue Ted reinforces the threat of not talking by smacking his palm once more with the mallet. Then, with a nod to Corb, the Silent One heads back into the darkness.

"I-I w-w-won't tell-" But at the talk of whacking, Torebras lets out a high-pitched shriek, rather like the whistle of a kettle albeit much, much louder - then, without warning, he collapses into a muddy heap at Corb's feet. Yes, Mister Torebras Bywater, Respectable Businessman and Former Mayor of Bree has fainted like a girl.

[Nob(#16122)] Corb snorts in disgust and gives the poor hobbit a nudge with his toe in parting. Well, maybe a bit more close to a kick... Torebras may find himself rather bruised up! Then he is off after Ted.