Breakfast for two

North Market(#4804Rto)

This section of Bree comprises Market North, on a street running north-south. To the north is the Great East Road and the well-known Prancing Pony. South are more shops and stores, as the market continues on in that direction. This area is quite noisy from the many traders, vendors, and other folk about. The smell of fine food drifts through the market, attracting more hobbits than Big Folk.

The day sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead. The early morning summer air is very hot and dry around you.

Obvious exits:

Round Door leads to Tunnelly Pipeweed Shoppe.

General Store leads to General Store.

Blacksmith leads to Blacksmith\'s Shop.

South leads to Bree Market - South.

North leads to At the Sign of the Prancing Pony.

================================== Bree Time ==================================

Real time: Tue Dec 02 15:34:21 2008

Bree time: Early Morning <08> on Mersday of Summer - August 3,1445

Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon

Breelands Weather

The early morning summer air is very hot and dry around you. The sky above is a glorious pale blue with only specks of white cloud floating around.

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[Ada(#23113)] The crescent moon hangs fat and heavy over the dawn streets of Bree. Windows open, smoke rises from kitchen chimneys and cats skirt the corners in one last nighttime foray. A bell rings in Fiddlehead\'s Pawnshop as Ada props the door open and looks out holding her broom. She adjusts her widow\'s cap, yawns and walks out to give the street a vigorous sweep.

Who should be strolling along with hat on head, pipe in mouth and a spring in his step. Perhaps the stress of the election has forced Torebras Bywater to take the air when the streets are quieter and the questions less intense. Even now, one or two early risers hail him and he responds with weary politeness: \"Ah, Farmer Hoethorn, how are the marrows coming on?\" \"Oh, is that so, Mrs Rainshoes? I quite agree.\"

At the sight of Ada he raises his hat - a little stiffly - and calls out with model politeness, \"Good morning, Mistress Fiddlehead. Looks like it will be another fine day.\"

[Ada(#23113)]

There is a cloud of dust from her sweeping. The Mayor looks wrapped in a numbus of dust and seems to stride out of it like the hero of some ancient story. Ada\'s mouth nearly sets in a frown (an expression she is more and more apt to despite the death of her ne\'er-do-well husband)but she decides to match the political good cheer that the dawn brings her.

\"Well, well. You are out early already Master Mayor. Have you broke your fast already?\" From behind her comes the (some would say) tantalizing aroma of baking muffins and frying bacon.

Torebras sniffs the air gingerly, then breaths in more deeply - silly thing to do, that, for the clouds of dust set him coughing. \"I - ah, that is - only a little morsel,\" he mumbles, gazing hopefully towards the doorway. \"I trust you\'re well, and that the customers are keeping you busy?\" A determinedly affable smile is plastered across his round face.

[Ada(#23113)] Despite her invitation Ada measures the hobbit and then nods her head as though she has made up her mind about something. \"A little morsel will hardly do for someone with as taxing a job, er, you\'ll excuse the pun, as you have, Master Mayor. Join me, we can set a table right out here after I have watered the pavement down and have some coolness before the heat sets in.\"

Ada\'s maid peeks her head out the door and Ada simply holds up two fingers for her to understand. A procession is not long in coming. It starts with a sloshing pail carried by the boy that fetches and carries it is thrown on the street to keep the dust down. The maid appears with what looks like a camp table and two chairs, decidedly military and most likely pawned. She scuttles back into the kitchen and comes back balancing a cloth covered tray with she pulls back to reveal: piping hot muffins, a teapot in its cosy, a full rasher of perfectly cooked bacon, a plate of scrambled eggs and mushrooms fried in said bacon fat.

\"Well, sir. Take a seat.\" She gestures, houseproud to the food and seats herself as well.

For some reason Ada\'s first words seem to bring on another fit of coughing. By the time the maid appears, Torebras has quite recovered himself, however. He watches with interest as the food is laid out, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the mushrooms. \"Why, how kind of you!\" he exclaims eagerly as he perches on one of the chairs.

Politeness dictates he wait for the hostess politeness also dictates he make suitable conversation. \"Quite the operation you run here, Mistress Fiddlehead,\" he comments. \"Very orderly and efficient. Have you thought what you will do after the- ah, after the end of the month?\" He carefully avoids mentioning the word \'election\' by name. \"The Mayor\'s office could do with someone of your organizational talents, you know, if you could spare a little time from your shop ...\"

[Ada(#23113)] It is Ada\'s turn for a polite cough at the Mayor\'s euphemism. \"Ahem, my servants came with me from my home and I pay them well and ask for a lot. Strict is what my mother taught me to be but not unfair.\" She gives him a mild smile, one that might make one think of the old aphorism: Butter wouldn\'t melt in her mouth. \"My brother /will/ need help with organizing. It\'s true. Please, help yourself to the mushrooms. There are the big caps cepes and sheep foot mushrroms from near the Old Forest. My favorites.\"

Torebras glances round the quiet early-morning marketplace, perhaps to compose himself, then looks back to Ada, who has so kindly provided a breakfast for two on the little table outside her shop.

Food wins out over politics, for he reaches out for the mushrooms without further prompting. \"Why, thank you. Near the Old Forest? Hmm.\" His eyes gleam, and no doubt he is storing the information away for future reference. Then it\'s back to politics. \"What makes you think that your brother will win, Mistress Fiddlehead? He really doesn\'t seem to have the concerns of all the townsfolk at heart. Some of the residents of Smial Rise are quite perturbed at this idea of a festival right below them.\"

[Ada(#23113)] There is a delicious clatter of spoon and fork as Ada serves him eggs and bacon without waiting for his bidding. Other tradesman pass by with polite smiles hiding their laughs and raised eyebrows their tableau provokes.

\"Why, of course he has their concerns in mind. It will bring business and animation to the Smials. Everyone will profit. What makes me think that he will win? He listens, Mr. Mayor.\" She smiles around a mouthful of mushrooms at him.

\"Really?\" Torebras raises an eyebrow as he happily settles down to the business of enjoying a well-earned (it /is/ important for a Mayor to chat to his constituents, isn\'t it?) repast. \"I should hope every mayoral candidate would listen,\" he remarks reprovingly when at last he has a moment between bites. \"That is why I am here, after all - to address the concerns of Bree\'s inhabitants, Big and Small. Tell me, Mistress Fiddlehead, was there something you wished to address?\" He gives her a polite, fatherly smile before returning to his bacon and mushrooms.

[Ada(#23113)] \"Why yes, I do. And it one of the very things my brother will address as he takes care of both, Big and Little people, Mayor. Ruffians.\" She punctuates her last word with a stab at a piece of bacon that would do in a ruffian and puts the vanquished sliver on her plate.

Torebras raises an eyebrow, and this time - more\'s the wonder - he actually stops eating. \"Mistress Fiddlehead,\" he begins frostily. \"I have done everything in my power to make Bree a safe place. Recently we have increased the Breeguard numbers, for example, because of that very issue. And we have advised merchants and tradesmen to travel in groups. Other than that,\" he frowns, \"there\'s really not very much I can do. If certain of the more .. ah, troublesome elements choose to wander outside town after dark, for example ...\" He lets the words trail off as he polishes off the last mushroom, and his frown lifts somewhat.

[Ada(#23113)] Ada holds his gaze and raises the opposite eyebrow. A vegetable seller going by at that moment guffaws behind his hand and neatly changes it into pulling his forelock to the Mayor. Perhaps they look like two cats squaring off until the Mayor pops the last of the mushrooms into his mouth. Ada pours some tea shaking her head.

\"Well, it ain\'t enough, Mayor. Groups are getting attacked too.\"

Torebras eyes his plate - there is, after all, some egg still left. Carefully he enquires, \"Tell me, what would you suggest, Mistress Fiddlehead? I am always interested to hear the ideas of others.\" He shoots the vegetable seller a quick glower before daintily gathering a forkful of egg.

[Ada(#23113)] Putting her teacup down with a decided clack, Ada, purses her lips in careful thought. \"Why send patrols out after the ruffians, get them where they live instead of waiting like bumps on a log. But that would take a lot of organization.\"

The maid appears as though she had been watching from some hiding place and whisks the now empty platters away. Mistress Fiddlehead despite her thin figure can hold her own with a hobbit though the Mayor clearly had the majority of the mushrooms and bacon.

\"What? Send decent folk out into the Chetwood?\" Torebras exclaims, clearly aghast at the thought. Then he recollects himself as he sets his knife and fork straight he murmurs politely, \"A most enterprising idea, Mistress Fiddlehead. Should I be re-elected, I\'ll see what I can do.\"

Once the plates have been cleared away, Bree\'s Mayor slides off his chair and stands straight, bowing from the waist. \"That was a most excellent repast, Mistress Fiddlehead. If you are ever passing my smial, don\'t hesitate to pop in for a cup of tea.\" Now, how likely is that, one wonders? \"If you\'ll excuse me, I have a number of visits to make,\" he explains, then raises his hat and wishes the pawn-shop owner a cheery \"Good day.\" Off he goes, perhaps not wiser but definitely fatter ...