Elendor
Speculation, speculation
Boldibad and Brandebras discuss the 'disapearance' of young Gidon Leathfhicket
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Bree - Market South
Game Date: August 3048
IC Time: Afternoon
Weather: Hot
Description: Bree Market - South(#24374Rto)
This section of Bree is known locally as Market South. There are shops lining both sides of the road, selling a variety of wares and services. Here, at the southern end of Bree's Market two roads meet, one from the east and one from the north. Night has fallen and little can be gleaned from the pale light of distant lanterns. A few men scurry about on their business, gone as quickly as they came.
Contents:
Pipeweed Stall(#17332eM)
Food Cart(#28735eM)
Obvious exits:
Large Wooden Door leads to The Longhole.
Sewing Shoppe leads to Sewing Shoppe.
Alleyway leads to Large Field.
Bakery leads to The Bakery.
East leads to Bree Market - East.
North leads to North Market.
================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Tue Dec 08 15:12:58 2009
Bree time: Afternoon on Sterday of Summer - August 19,1448
Moon Phase: Last Quarter Moon
Breelands Weather
The summer air is very hot and dry around you. The sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead.
===============================================================================
[Boldibad(#22742)] The activity in the market seems to be winding down as the day rolls into late afternoon. There is still a hobbit clinging to the Pipeweed Stall, smoke rising up from the pipes of his and the merchant's. Boldibad takes a few puffs and smiles, nodding his head, "Indeed, sir, this is a fine 'weed--though, a bit stale after its long journey from the Shire. You see, that little bit of freshness makes all the difference."
Others are still doing a little late-afternoon shopping. Brandebras Bywater is paused by the food cart, fanning himself with a red spotted handkerchief. "You're sure?" he enquires anxiously, then heaves a big sigh. "And the other grocers was out of it too. Oh dear, Ma won't be pleased."
Mournfully he steps away, wandering along with head down until the smell of smoke causes him to lift it. "Hello there, Mister Bolger," he pipes up, waving and trotting over.
Boldibad laughs at something the pipeweed merchant says, and adds, "Well, she was a Grubb, by every account I've heard--" he then turns his head and nods, "Hello there. Ah! Mr.--Bywater, I believe? Bree's finest hobbit deliverer-of-messages, if I'm not mistaken. Have you any news for me then?"
[Boldibad(#22742)] The merchant grumbles and goes back to sorting his profits as Boldibad turns away from him.
Brandebras beams at his name and title. "Were you buying something?" He considers the question carefully, for all of .. oh, perhaps a heartbeat. "Well, Mrs Featherstone's chickens got out, and one of them got into Mrs Haverthorn's laundry, and ... Oh. That's not what you mean." Glancing at the merchant, he hesitates, and then his brows furrow, giving his round features a rather perplexed expression. "There was one thing."
Boldibad puffs on his pipe again, sending tendrils of fine, burning pipeweed into the air around him. He laughs deeply, and says, "Funny, if not interesting. Though--yes, I was more curious about news of the letter I sent off with you, to the young human." He pokes the stem of his pipe between his teeth and tucks his free hand into his waistcoat pocket. "Yes? Speak up, Mr. Bywater--and make it good news, that's all I'd care to hear right now, you know!"
Brandebras' nose twitches, and he blinks at Boldibad's speech. "I delivered the message like you said, but there wasn't an answer. Young Master Leafthicket just thanked me and sent me away." He pauses, eyeing his fellow hobbit almost suspiciously. "Mister Nob didn't tell you that? I couldn't find you when I got back, and he said he'd be sure to!" He sounds quite indignant. "It was about him - the news, that is."
Boldibad nods his head in understanding, putting a hand out for a pat on Brandebras' shoulder, "I see, I see. Yes, well, Nob couldn't get any message to me if he wanted to. You see, I've run into some distant cousins of mine, who've agreed to take me into their own smial for the duration of my visit!" He clears his throat and glances around the immediate area, and lowers his voice. "To be honest, I never was able to get used to the fact that hobbits sleep under the same roof as big folk, in that Prancing Pony. Anyhow, you say the news was about ol' Nob? Do tell."
Brandebras listens, the indignation slowly fading. At the explanation about smials he blinks and nods. "I hadn't thought about it that way before. I think it would be exciting to stay in an Inn with Big Folk! But I've got my own smial - well, it's Torebras's smial really, I'm just looking after it ..." The gabbled commentary trails off into silence as Boldibad's final query catches up with him. "About Nob? No, it's about Gidon Leafthicket. Did you know," he pauses for dramatic effect, "he's just left town? With two Outsiders. Mean-looking ones, too. The man was all got up in leather, and," he lowers his voice, "I don't think they washed."
Boldibad makes an expression of disagreement at the beginning of Brandebras' reply, but his interest is taken in a new direction by the end. He whips his pipe from his teeth, and says, "Left town? With two Outsiders?" He strokes his chin and walks away from the Pipeweed stall, moving into a repetitive pacing motion for a couple of rounds. He stops.
"Now, I'm not from this... place, myself, but I don't believe that sounds normal. What is your opinion, sir? By my own experience, I'd say that this smells more like a kidnapping. Burn my mushrooms! I sent the poor fellow out to investigate a lot of... grimy, unwashed Outsiders, and here he gets taken off by them!"
Brandebras follows as Boldibad walks away, a silent shadow. When the Shire hobbit stops, Brandebras is caught quite unawares, and windmills his arms hard to stop bowling into him. If Boldibad was trying to escape attention, his companion has just negated that.
While Boldibad speaks, Brandebras is fidgeting worriedly, speech clearly just waiting to burst out. Once the other is done, he volunteers hesitantly, "What if- that is- what if /he's/ the one who stole the rings? Young Master Leafthicket. And now he's fled the country ..." Imagination is running riot.
Boldibad bahs, turning around just as Brandebras moves to avoid a collision. He steps back and scratches the back of his head, "I suppose it's possible, but... no! The hooded person was bigger than the lad! And, well, Mr. Gidon--he helped me. If he had stolen my rings, he'd have gotten off right away, not stop to see how he could assist me." He seems to think for a moment. He looks at Brandebras, and says, "Do you really think he's the one, Mr. Bywater?"
Well, it was an exciting thought. "Oh," replies Brandebras, crestfallen. "Well, if you're sure it's not him ... I just thought it looked suspicious, him taking off like that. And," he warms to his theme, "what was he doing up Bree hill anyway when you met him? Maybe he was trying to divert suspicion."
He falls silent then to ponder - it was such a neat idea. Still, at least there's another one to fall back on. "Do you really think he's been kidnapped?"
Boldibad taps out his pipe and tucks it into his waistcoat. "Oh," he says, holding up his hands, "I am not denying your idea, Mr. Bywater. It does make a lot of sense, and if Mr. Gidon were but a few years older, and bigger, then, I would have no doubt whatsoever! But, just look at the little fellow... he doesn't appear to be the tricky sort at all! So, if he isn't, then we must assume something else is going on here... if he's the nice chum I find him to be, then he would have no reason to go off, willingly, with the lot you described. He must have been kidnapped. Oh! I can't leave Bree, now! This is all my fault..."
Brandebras listens, scratching his curly head. If Boldibad was hoping for reassurance after that final statement, he is to be sorely disappointed. Instead the young messenger-hobbit enquires interestedly, "Do you think they'd kidnap you too if you left town?" After a few moments pause, he adds offhandedly, "Besides, you can't leave now. There's a Best Produce Contest coming up! There should be baking ..."
Boldibad's eyes widen suddenly, "Kidnap me! Kidnap me?" He clears his throat, and chuckles a bit. "Well, that's certainly an idea, isn't it? I suppose I should stay, either way, and make sure to find out what happened to that young fellow... perhaps he's just too curious for his own good. You know, he reminds me quite a lot of our Tooks, back in the Shire. Curiosity killed the Took, as my father used to say. Anyhow, what's this about a Produce contest? It sounds like something nice to get my mind off this whole thing..."
Brandebras listens to Boldibad's speech, and at one particular point his own eyes grow round as saucers. "/How/ did curiosity kill the Took?" he asks, worriedly.
Boldibad's own question is belatedly remembered, and he clears his throat. "Well, there's going to be a Produce Contest. With vegetables, fruit, jams /and/ baking. And-" He stops, peering at Boldibad as an idea comes to him. "And they're going to take the winning vegetables and fruit to the Shire. You know, you could go with them!" He beams at his bright idea.
A moment later his smile fades. "Ma was going to bake one of her blueberry pies for the contest - but all the grocers are out of sugar. She won't be pleased with me ..."
Boldibad says, "Well, any respectable hobbit knows that being too adventurous can get you into trouble. Plenty of those foolhardy Tooks have gone off to satisfy their curiosity, and never came back. Why, even ol' Bilbo Baggins had Took blood in him--if you've heard of him, anyway! Just a crazy old fellow from Hobbiton. Anyhow, that does sound like a good idea. I suppose they'll have a great celebration over the whole thing in the Shire. If it's all held in the market, I suppose I'll be here. My cousins don't live far."
Brandebras nods to all this. "I'd like to see the Shire!" he proclaims eagerly. "I'd thought I might come too. But Ma's not keen on the idea. She says one wandering vagrant in the family is- ahh-" The words end in a choking sound, and Brandebras turns bright red. "I'd better go and tell her about the sugar," he blurts out awkwardly. "I'll see you at the Produce Contest, then? Goodbye Mister Bolger, have a nice evening!"
With a flustered-looking wave of his red spotted handkerchief, which is only a few shades darker than his face, Brandebras darts off.
Boldibad nods, waving, "You talk to your ma about visiting the Shire--it might do her some good to come along as well! And, perhaps the local baker has some extra sugar he might sell you... anyhow, I'll see you then!"
This section of Bree is known locally as Market South. There are shops lining both sides of the road, selling a variety of wares and services. Here, at the southern end of Bree's Market two roads meet, one from the east and one from the north. Night has fallen and little can be gleaned from the pale light of distant lanterns. A few men scurry about on their business, gone as quickly as they came.
Contents:
Pipeweed Stall(#17332eM)
Food Cart(#28735eM)
Obvious exits:
Large Wooden Door leads to The Longhole.
Sewing Shoppe leads to Sewing Shoppe.
Alleyway leads to Large Field.
Bakery leads to The Bakery.
East leads to Bree Market - East.
North leads to North Market.
================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Tue Dec 08 15:12:58 2009
Bree time: Afternoon on Sterday of Summer - August 19,1448
Moon Phase: Last Quarter Moon
Breelands Weather
The summer air is very hot and dry around you. The sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead.
===============================================================================
[Boldibad(#22742)] The activity in the market seems to be winding down as the day rolls into late afternoon. There is still a hobbit clinging to the Pipeweed Stall, smoke rising up from the pipes of his and the merchant's. Boldibad takes a few puffs and smiles, nodding his head, "Indeed, sir, this is a fine 'weed--though, a bit stale after its long journey from the Shire. You see, that little bit of freshness makes all the difference."
Others are still doing a little late-afternoon shopping. Brandebras Bywater is paused by the food cart, fanning himself with a red spotted handkerchief. "You're sure?" he enquires anxiously, then heaves a big sigh. "And the other grocers was out of it too. Oh dear, Ma won't be pleased."
Mournfully he steps away, wandering along with head down until the smell of smoke causes him to lift it. "Hello there, Mister Bolger," he pipes up, waving and trotting over.
Boldibad laughs at something the pipeweed merchant says, and adds, "Well, she was a Grubb, by every account I've heard--" he then turns his head and nods, "Hello there. Ah! Mr.--Bywater, I believe? Bree's finest hobbit deliverer-of-messages, if I'm not mistaken. Have you any news for me then?"
[Boldibad(#22742)] The merchant grumbles and goes back to sorting his profits as Boldibad turns away from him.
Brandebras beams at his name and title. "Were you buying something?" He considers the question carefully, for all of .. oh, perhaps a heartbeat. "Well, Mrs Featherstone's chickens got out, and one of them got into Mrs Haverthorn's laundry, and ... Oh. That's not what you mean." Glancing at the merchant, he hesitates, and then his brows furrow, giving his round features a rather perplexed expression. "There was one thing."
Boldibad puffs on his pipe again, sending tendrils of fine, burning pipeweed into the air around him. He laughs deeply, and says, "Funny, if not interesting. Though--yes, I was more curious about news of the letter I sent off with you, to the young human." He pokes the stem of his pipe between his teeth and tucks his free hand into his waistcoat pocket. "Yes? Speak up, Mr. Bywater--and make it good news, that's all I'd care to hear right now, you know!"
Brandebras' nose twitches, and he blinks at Boldibad's speech. "I delivered the message like you said, but there wasn't an answer. Young Master Leafthicket just thanked me and sent me away." He pauses, eyeing his fellow hobbit almost suspiciously. "Mister Nob didn't tell you that? I couldn't find you when I got back, and he said he'd be sure to!" He sounds quite indignant. "It was about him - the news, that is."
Boldibad nods his head in understanding, putting a hand out for a pat on Brandebras' shoulder, "I see, I see. Yes, well, Nob couldn't get any message to me if he wanted to. You see, I've run into some distant cousins of mine, who've agreed to take me into their own smial for the duration of my visit!" He clears his throat and glances around the immediate area, and lowers his voice. "To be honest, I never was able to get used to the fact that hobbits sleep under the same roof as big folk, in that Prancing Pony. Anyhow, you say the news was about ol' Nob? Do tell."
Brandebras listens, the indignation slowly fading. At the explanation about smials he blinks and nods. "I hadn't thought about it that way before. I think it would be exciting to stay in an Inn with Big Folk! But I've got my own smial - well, it's Torebras's smial really, I'm just looking after it ..." The gabbled commentary trails off into silence as Boldibad's final query catches up with him. "About Nob? No, it's about Gidon Leafthicket. Did you know," he pauses for dramatic effect, "he's just left town? With two Outsiders. Mean-looking ones, too. The man was all got up in leather, and," he lowers his voice, "I don't think they washed."
Boldibad makes an expression of disagreement at the beginning of Brandebras' reply, but his interest is taken in a new direction by the end. He whips his pipe from his teeth, and says, "Left town? With two Outsiders?" He strokes his chin and walks away from the Pipeweed stall, moving into a repetitive pacing motion for a couple of rounds. He stops.
"Now, I'm not from this... place, myself, but I don't believe that sounds normal. What is your opinion, sir? By my own experience, I'd say that this smells more like a kidnapping. Burn my mushrooms! I sent the poor fellow out to investigate a lot of... grimy, unwashed Outsiders, and here he gets taken off by them!"
Brandebras follows as Boldibad walks away, a silent shadow. When the Shire hobbit stops, Brandebras is caught quite unawares, and windmills his arms hard to stop bowling into him. If Boldibad was trying to escape attention, his companion has just negated that.
While Boldibad speaks, Brandebras is fidgeting worriedly, speech clearly just waiting to burst out. Once the other is done, he volunteers hesitantly, "What if- that is- what if /he's/ the one who stole the rings? Young Master Leafthicket. And now he's fled the country ..." Imagination is running riot.
Boldibad bahs, turning around just as Brandebras moves to avoid a collision. He steps back and scratches the back of his head, "I suppose it's possible, but... no! The hooded person was bigger than the lad! And, well, Mr. Gidon--he helped me. If he had stolen my rings, he'd have gotten off right away, not stop to see how he could assist me." He seems to think for a moment. He looks at Brandebras, and says, "Do you really think he's the one, Mr. Bywater?"
Well, it was an exciting thought. "Oh," replies Brandebras, crestfallen. "Well, if you're sure it's not him ... I just thought it looked suspicious, him taking off like that. And," he warms to his theme, "what was he doing up Bree hill anyway when you met him? Maybe he was trying to divert suspicion."
He falls silent then to ponder - it was such a neat idea. Still, at least there's another one to fall back on. "Do you really think he's been kidnapped?"
Boldibad taps out his pipe and tucks it into his waistcoat. "Oh," he says, holding up his hands, "I am not denying your idea, Mr. Bywater. It does make a lot of sense, and if Mr. Gidon were but a few years older, and bigger, then, I would have no doubt whatsoever! But, just look at the little fellow... he doesn't appear to be the tricky sort at all! So, if he isn't, then we must assume something else is going on here... if he's the nice chum I find him to be, then he would have no reason to go off, willingly, with the lot you described. He must have been kidnapped. Oh! I can't leave Bree, now! This is all my fault..."
Brandebras listens, scratching his curly head. If Boldibad was hoping for reassurance after that final statement, he is to be sorely disappointed. Instead the young messenger-hobbit enquires interestedly, "Do you think they'd kidnap you too if you left town?" After a few moments pause, he adds offhandedly, "Besides, you can't leave now. There's a Best Produce Contest coming up! There should be baking ..."
Boldibad's eyes widen suddenly, "Kidnap me! Kidnap me?" He clears his throat, and chuckles a bit. "Well, that's certainly an idea, isn't it? I suppose I should stay, either way, and make sure to find out what happened to that young fellow... perhaps he's just too curious for his own good. You know, he reminds me quite a lot of our Tooks, back in the Shire. Curiosity killed the Took, as my father used to say. Anyhow, what's this about a Produce contest? It sounds like something nice to get my mind off this whole thing..."
Brandebras listens to Boldibad's speech, and at one particular point his own eyes grow round as saucers. "/How/ did curiosity kill the Took?" he asks, worriedly.
Boldibad's own question is belatedly remembered, and he clears his throat. "Well, there's going to be a Produce Contest. With vegetables, fruit, jams /and/ baking. And-" He stops, peering at Boldibad as an idea comes to him. "And they're going to take the winning vegetables and fruit to the Shire. You know, you could go with them!" He beams at his bright idea.
A moment later his smile fades. "Ma was going to bake one of her blueberry pies for the contest - but all the grocers are out of sugar. She won't be pleased with me ..."
Boldibad says, "Well, any respectable hobbit knows that being too adventurous can get you into trouble. Plenty of those foolhardy Tooks have gone off to satisfy their curiosity, and never came back. Why, even ol' Bilbo Baggins had Took blood in him--if you've heard of him, anyway! Just a crazy old fellow from Hobbiton. Anyhow, that does sound like a good idea. I suppose they'll have a great celebration over the whole thing in the Shire. If it's all held in the market, I suppose I'll be here. My cousins don't live far."
Brandebras nods to all this. "I'd like to see the Shire!" he proclaims eagerly. "I'd thought I might come too. But Ma's not keen on the idea. She says one wandering vagrant in the family is- ahh-" The words end in a choking sound, and Brandebras turns bright red. "I'd better go and tell her about the sugar," he blurts out awkwardly. "I'll see you at the Produce Contest, then? Goodbye Mister Bolger, have a nice evening!"
With a flustered-looking wave of his red spotted handkerchief, which is only a few shades darker than his face, Brandebras darts off.
Boldibad nods, waving, "You talk to your ma about visiting the Shire--it might do her some good to come along as well! And, perhaps the local baker has some extra sugar he might sell you... anyhow, I'll see you then!"
Players: Boldibad, Brandebras
