Test of Strength and Tolerance

Logfile from Elendor.

STARRING: Bratto! Chalcedony, as Chrysoprase! Boldibad, as himself!

Waymeet

Waymeet, or \'Waymoot\' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.

Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.

Contents:

Bratto

Chrysoprase

Obvious exits:

Town Hall Inn leads to Town Hall Inn.

Brownlock Smial leads to Brownlock Smial Sitting Room.

Market Place leads to Waymeet Market Place.

East leads to Great East Road - Shady Glen.

West leads to Great East Road - Hardbottle Turnoff.

Northwest leads to West Farthing Road.

South leads to Whitwell.

Doctor\'s Office leads to Dr. North-Took\'s Office/Home.

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Boldibad(#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(#28016e)

Boldibad\'s Fireworks Parent (FW)(#28171LV)

Garden(#4884V)

Boldibad\'s Deluxe Fishing Hole Parent (FP)(#21281Van)

Bow

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Bratto

This young hobbit before you stands below average. The soft curls that crown his head remain uncombed. Their ashy brown colour is peppered with hues of light auburn. His eyes, reveal an intense colour that reminds you of the leaves of the trees in a lush forest. His face, always revealing a wide smile, still does not show any sign of ageing.

His beige shirt remains neatly buttoned under his deep green waistcoat. Hmm...In his right pocket he carries something that looks like a pipe. And... Wait a minute... is that the shape of a cookie in one pocket of his nicely matched trousers?

Usually sitting at his side is Muffin. You might want to +inspect Bratto\'s Muffin to take a look at him.

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Chrysoprase

The foremost impression left by this ladyhobbit is one of sparkling brown eyes and a sweet, slightly tanned face. Not long in coming are her horrendously rowdy curls - nearly-black, thick ringlets that she has somehow forced back into a high bun. Despite her efforts, she was still unable to capture one, an especially naughty curl that falls into the left half of a pair of sparking, chocolate-colored eyes. A strange, flowing birthmark is emblazoned across that same temple. Her short person is wrapped in a long, full dress. The sapphire-blue fabric is fine, though the gown\'s design is simple - sleeves that extend to her wrists, a modest neckline, and a skirt that completely covers her furry feet and sweeps back into a nearly nonexistent train, held to her waist by a bright, emerald-green sash of sorts that dips to a point in the center. What little jewelry she wears is unpretentious - a polished, pale blue chalcedony on a silver chain round her neck, an engraved silver bracelet round one wrist, and the rings of a wife on her left hand. Slight callouses adorn her hands, callouses she wears as if they have always been there. Her movements, though touched with an undeniable clumsiness, are nevertheless confident, her build solid, and her manner practical.

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Picking up another apple, Chyrsoprase tilts her head to one side and compares the two through narrowed eyes. \"You know, I always wanted to be able to juggle. I managed to figure it out once years ago, but I didn\'t practice it much, and I bet I\'ve utterly lost it by now.\" She tosses one apple up in the air a couple of times expiramentally, testing its weight, as the apple merchant looks on worriedly.

The hooves of a pony moving at a casual pace, and the wheels of a vehicle can be hard rolling over the bumps in the road, coming from the west. A hobbit, leading the beast and an empty cart, comes into view, passing slowly through the last tendrils of fog that had been hiding in certain hollows here and there. It turns out to be Boldibad Bolger, and, suddenly, he can be heard cursing as one of the cart\'s wheels falls half-way off.

As he was too immersed into whatever Chryso was saying Bratto didn\'t at first notice the cart. He giggles a little at the apple. \"Perhaps we\'ll try that later. When there isn\'t so many people around.\" He pauses and adds quickly, \"I wouldn\'t want them to bump into you when you\'re not look...\" His attention is drawn to Boldibad one more time and his nose wrinkles. \"That must not be so good. Do you think we should help?\"

Chrysoprase peers over Bratto\'s shoulder with one raised eyebrow as the sounds of cursing float to her softly-pointed ears. \"Hrm,\" she says. \"You know, we probably should, though I\'m not much use in this...dress.\" She looks as if she wanted to add in a few tasty adjectives, but refrained. Chryssie replaces the apples on the apple cart, much to the releif of the merchant, and nods. \"Let\'s go see.\"

Boldibad pulls his horse to a stop and throws down the reins angrilly. Running around to the side of the cart, he deals a couple of kicks to the broken wheel. \"Stupid, sheepheaded... alespot of a... tater-tossing mushroom-burning... son of Brandybuck! Dirty, rotten, egg-spattered...\" his voice floats on the wind through the little town, and lights begin flaring up inside nearby homes.

Bratto\'s steps are small but take him quickly next to Chryssie and towards Boldibad. He stops though when the curses become evident and he looks at the hobbit lass. \"Perhaps we shouldn\'t help him ... He seems upset.\"

\"Upset, indeed,\" agrees Chyrssie, but then the hobbit in question spits out the phrase, \"tater-tossing mushroom-burning,\" and she can\'t help herself. \"\'Mushroom-burning\'?\" she repeats, one eyebrow still arched. Her face freezes for a moment, and then she bursts out into giggles. \"Oh, come on, Bratto. He can\'t be too dangerous if the worst thing he can think of is someone who throws taters.\" She advances a few steps and waves her fingers at the older hobbit. \"Excuse me, sir, can we help you?\"

Boldibad starts and turns around, \"Oh, I beg your pardon, miss... good day, sir,\" he nods to Bratto. \"Well, I could use this gentlehobbit\'s help in holding up the cart while I readjust the wheel. You see, I plan to relocate, from Bucklebury, back home to Budge Ford! And I went to get this old cart I had lent to my cousin, Mr. Thilo Bracegirdle. Well, it seems to be so old now, that I\'m having trouble keeping it in one piece--I feel it\'s going to be a long way to Buckland.\"

Bratto\'s first reaction is to look about him in search of this gentlehobbit Boldibad is talking about but as there is nobody close he grins, \"Thank you. I will help you ... if you tell me how, of course.\" His attention is on the lass one more time and he seems to ponder for a moment, \"Perhaps you shouldn\'t help or your dress will get dirty and your mum will then be angry with you.\"

Stepping aside, Chryssie rolls her eyes at Bratto. \"You\'re right, as usual. If I came home with mud on my dress again, Mum would positively murder me.\" Chryssie locates a nearby fence and sits primly down on it, propping her parasol against a post. She can\'t hold the pose for very long, however, and starts swinging her legs back and forth in a rather unladylike fashion.

Boldibad puts his hands on his hips and gestures at the cart. \"Why,\" he says to the younger hobbit, \"just lift the corner, lad! A hobbit of your station must have done this before, eh?\" He gives his trousers a jerk on each leg, pulling the cuffs up a bit to make bending down a bit easier. He bends his knees and prepares to pull up the wheel. \"Now, go on--hold it up, and I\'ll replace the wheel!\"

Bratto\'s blush might perhaps be visible from a mile away but still he nods. \"My uncle Sulo has a cart and my dad but ...\" His talk fades and he clears his throat, \"Ok, just a moment.\" Bratto pushes his sleeves up just to have them slide down again and he pulls on the corner. \"There... go on.. I have it up.\" His voice is slightly strained.

Chrysoprase leans forward, her lower lip between her teeth, watching Bratto intently. Her legs stop swinging and she crosses her ankles nervously. Still, she doesn\'t say anything, not even in response to the comment about Bratto\'s supposed \"station.\"

Boldibad doesn\'t seem to be very interested in the talk. He can be heard grumbling, \"If I tear these trousers again, it will be the last straw.\" He nods, \"Good, good! Hold it there!\" He poises himself and then lifts up the wheel, \"Oof!\" He lowers it down, \"Higher, lad! Lift the cart up higher, eh??\"

The pony just seems to grunt a little bit. After a moment, she turns her head, perhaps out of boredom, and begins sniffing at Bratto\'s ear.

Bratto, a hobbit who unlike his father and uncle decided that farming, and thus, growing stronger, was not something for him, is already lifting the cart high enough. \"All right sir.\" He mumbles in the same strained voice and he winces as his face reddens immediately with effort. The effort pays and the cart moves up a couple of inches. That is, until the giggling caused by the pony\'s muzzle in his ear overcomes him.

Chrysoprase is silent and worried, nearly standing up as Bratto\'s face reddens. But then \'round comes the pony\'s head and she dissolves into giggles again herself, clapping both hands over her mouth in an honest attempt not to distract the gentlehobbits at their work.

Boldibad begins to sweat as the vehicle rises and he struggles to push it back on the way it belongs. \"Perfect,\" he grunts, \"perfect. I almost have it on... almost... on...\" He turns it this way and that, and suddenly lowers it once again. \"What in the Four Farthings is so funny? Hold it higher, I say! Are you making fun of me?\"

\"No sir, of course not sir.\" Bratto\'s says quickly. \"It\'s just...\" He shakes his head a little, intending to brush off the pony. He also blows in a small and desperate attempt to push the horse away with a blow of air. \"I will just...\" Again his face looks intent with concentration and the cart lifts the same couple of inches as before the muzzle appeared.

Chrysoprase can\'t take it anymore and hops off the fence. She carefully approaches the pony, smiling and holding her hands out. \"Good evening, ma\'am,\" she says politely to the animal, reaching out to touch the soft muzzle of the pony. \"Why don\'t you nuzzle me? Bratto\'s trying to be helpful, but I\'m unoccupied at the moment.\"

Boldibad nods, making one more effort to heave the wheel onto the cart. He succeeds in sliding it on and dusts off his hands. \"Whew,\" he exclaims. \"Good job, good job. What\'s your name, my friend?\" He looks over at Chrysoprase and the pony and clicks his tongue, \"Don\'t be naughty, Butterbell. She has a tendency to stick her nose where it doesn\'t belong, I\'m warning you, lass!\"

Bratto looks relieved when the wheel slides back in, \"Bratto Banks, sir.\" A now free hand reaches up to scratch the pony\'s hair and face. \"She\'s a nice pony\"

\"She is, indeed,\" says Chryssie, petting the soft nose with a small smile. She looks over at Bratto. \"That was rather impressive, the way you held the cart up like that. I didn\'t know you were that strong.\" Chryssie shakes her head. \"I couldn\'t have lifted it an inch.\"

Boldibad nods, but seems to have been expecting something more. He twitches his eyebrows, thinking no more of it, and chuckles at Chrysoprase as she praises Bratto. He then reaches into his pocket. \"Allow me to give you something to show my appreciation--I insist!\" Boldibad removes something and holds out his closed fist to Bratto.

Boldibad adds quickly, \"Forgive me--my name is Boldibad Bolger, by the way!\"

Bratto beams at Chryssie and coughs a couple of times, \"Well it was not that heavy. It\'s empty, after all.\" He rubs one arm in a nervous way before his eyes look at the Bolger and then at his hand, \"Oh no you shouldn\'t have to... I only meant to help and not really mean to get a payment for it, really.\" Regardless, he stretches his hand towards the fist.

Chrysoprase beams at Bratto as the Bolger offers him the...whatever-it-is...then watches curiously, eager to see what this payment consists of.

Boldibad smiles as though proud of himself and empties the contents of his hands. \"I insist, it\'s the least I can do, Mr. Banks.\"

You +give 3 Copper Pennies to Bratto.

Boldibad clears his throat and leans in to Bratto, \"Ahh--here\'s a little extra. Buy that lass a flower with it, eh?\"

You +give a Copper Penny to Bratto.

\"Thank you sir!\" Bratto grins at the coins received. \"I ... well yes.. I perhaps ..\" His stuttering comes after the mention of the flower and the lass. His head hangs down and again there seems to be dirt in his feet.

\"Fiery\" doesn\'t do it justice - the blush on Chrysoprase\'s cheeks, that it. There really aren\'t words, actually, but you could have fried an egg of her face, it\'s burning so hot. She suddenly becomes very interested in a tree in the opposite direction of Bratto, though she does sneak a glance at him to see his reaction.

Boldibad chuckles and pats Bratto on the shoulder. \"But,\" he says, lowering his voice even more, \"don\'t let her trap you! Why, you\'re at a good age to join the EBS. Consider it, Mr. Banks! Come, Butterbell,\" he says as he picks up the reins and begins moving east, down the road. \"My thanks!\" he calls with a wave of his hand.

END