Bree -- Nob, the Sindarin expert

Inn-yard

An open air inn-yard is enclosed in the center of the Prancing Pony\'s compound. The yard is ringed in by the north and south wing of the Pony, and the eastern section of the building, which is set back into Bree-hill. On the fourth side bordering this yard is an archway, beyond which lies the Great East Road. The stables, which comprise the lower level of the south wing, are accessed through a set of large double doors.

Obvious exits:

Kitchen leads to Kitchen.

Downstairs Hallway leads to Short Passage.

Double Doors leads to Stables.

Archway leads to Under the Archway.

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

Real time: Mon Aug 04 09:59:54 2008

Bree time: Early Evening <19> on Trewsday of Summer - August 8,1444

Moon Phase: New Moon

Breelands Weather

The early evening 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. ===============================================================================

Evening is here, but the Inn-yard is still rather warm - that summer weather is showing no signs of letting up. Torebras Bywater seems to have chosen the yard as a place to escape the barrage of constituents that no doubt fills the Common Room - or perhaps he just wants to keep an eye on how the work that Pinewick lad\'s supposed to have been doing is progressing. Out he pops from the back of the Inn, a lit pipe already in his mouth, and pauses at the foot of the steps to blow a near-perfect smoke-ring. Ah, the pleasures of an idle life ...

[Cordelia(#1394)] A mayor\'s work is never done: Walking perhaps brazenly from the archway toward the Pony is none other than Cordelia, Keldean\'s co-conspirator. Or his fellow innocent victim, depending on your point of view. She isn\'t disguised or hiding--in fact, she seems about ready to walk right by the mayor with a polite nod as she heads into the Pony.

A second, rather less well-formed, smoke-ring escapes Torebras\' lips as he recognizes just who is approaching. \"Ah, Miss Wood,\" he calls out when she nears. \"Fancy seeing you here. It\'s a long time since you were last on these premises. Are you working for Nob again?\" There\'s no hostility in his voice, merely mild enquiry.

[Cordelia(#1394)] Cordelia is reaching for the door handle when Torebras speaks, but she lets her hand drop and turns to answer him. \"No, not yet, Mayor. I was hoping to speak to him today in fact.\"

\"Mmm.\" Somehow that single syllable manages to convey a modicum of doubt. \"I\'m not sure if he\'s in at the moment, you know.\" As if Torebras keeps could know! \"Do you have a few moments to spare? I\'d like to ask a couple of questions, if I may ...\" The words trail into silence as he pulls thoughtfully on his pipe.

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"Not in?\" Cordelia sighs. \"I\'ve been coming here every day to try to get a word with him...but if that\'s the case, then yes, certainly. What can I do for you, sir?\" She\'s the picture of politeness, with a pleasant smile to boot.

Torebras moves a little way away from the door to lean against the east side of the building, its stone warm and pleasant in the evening sun. He blows a nice round smoke-ring, then starts to speak. \"Well, you know - ah, there is really no delicate way to put this. I wondered if you could tell me anything about your absence from Bree. Young Master Pinewick has been coming out with quite the most outrageous stories!\" He flaps his hand as though shooing away nonsense.

[Cordelia(#1394)] The young woman\'s eyes widen a bit. \"Stories? Perhaps about how Keldean and I were both held at knifepoint? Or about how these people threatened to slit my sister Liuni\'s throat if I didn\'t do what they asked? Pray, tell me what Keldean told you. Likely I can back it up.\"

Torebras blinks. \"No indeed!\" he exclaims, horror graven on his well-fed features. \"He said nothing of the sort! They didn\'t - I, mean - ah, you\'re not /hurt/? What about your poor sister? Such a pretty child ...\" His pipe sits forgotten in his hand, while his other hand pulls out a yellow silk handkerchief with which he mops at his suddenly sweating brow.

The evening air is warm and mild - just the weather for a stroll. Torebras and Cordelia, however, are not strolling but standing, over against the sunlit brickwork of the east wing. The Mayor looks quite distressed about something, for he\'s mopping his brow and seems to have no care for the smouldering pipe in his other hand.

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"They....\" Cordelia drops her eyes, her cheeks burning deep red with the shame of the memories, perhaps. \"I thought they were honest business people, and I had agreed to do some work for them. And it turned out...well, they were thieves and...worse....That man, Asht, he....\" But she stops, shuddering. \"Keldean managed to escape with my sister--I helped the two of them get away. He was very brave, Keldean.\"

That last sentence gives the appalled-looking Mayor pause for thought. \"He was?\" He straightens up, stuffing away his yellow silk handkerchief. \"Funny, that\'s not what /he/ said. Some wild tale about single-handedly rescuing ponies and carts from bandit-eating trolls, he had ... You didn\'t even come into it, my dear.\" The pipe goes back into his mouth as he eyes Cordelia thoughtfully. \"Now, why would he say that?\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"He did, actually,\" Cordelia answers without so much as skipping a beat. \"He got my sister to safety--but he\'s modest about that. And -then- he returned and got the ponies back despite being attacked by trolls. He\'s all scratched up from it, too--it was terrible, but most of it didn\'t happen in front of me. The trolls dragged him off.\"

Torebras ... blinks. He takes another careful pull on his pipe. \"Modest is not a word I would use to describe that young man,\" he states, the distaste all too evident in his voice. \"Over-arrogant, thoughtless, no respect for others ... Pah.\" His pursed lips blow a twisted smoke-ring.

Having vented his frustration, he returns to Cordelia\'s tale, enquiring carefully, \"And where were you, then?\"

[Galharth(#28711)] \"Trolls?\" A musical voice rings out in common tongue, as a very tall figure steps out of the shadows from a secluded spot within the Inn-yard. Has this figure been listening? How long? How indeed could a stranger such as this gone unnoticed? \"How often do the beasts trouble the good folk of this town?\" Galharth asks as he steps closer. Glancing at the two present, he smiles warmly, \"I am Galharth, a visitor in these lands, and forgive me for eavesdropping, but the topic of trolls interests me greatly.\"

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"There were...\" Cordelia starts to try to answer the mayor\'s question, gesturing as she does so, but the elf steps in to introduce himself, and she jumps, a bit startled. \"Good evening,\" she greets him politely. \"I don\'t know how often trolls trouble this town...\"

[Nob(#16122)] The main door swings open, banging into the wall and then swaying gently until Nob catches the edge and pushes it shut again. The hobbit barely pauses during this, turning at once to hurry towards the stables. His harried-looking face turns towards a small cluster of people.

\"You haven\'t seen... oh! I didn\'t notice that was you, Mister Mayor.\" Nob gives Cordelia a decidedly unwelcoming glance as his eyes slide across her, bobs his head at the elf, and pauses to listen.

Torebras\' head jerks round at the melodic words, and for an instant he simply /stares/ at the stranger, before clearing his throat and busying himself with his pipe. \"Ah, no, there aren\'t any trolls round here. Only out in the Wilds,\" he waves his hand so vaguely that he could be pointing in any direction. \"Occasionally one will wander into the Chetwood - of course, they don\'t bother /decent/ folk.\" Does he realize he\'s just slighted Cordelia? He certainly seems to have forgotten her question. \"Ah, good evening, Mister Nob. I - ah, I didn\'t think you were in tonight.\" He colours up just a fraction and doesn\'t look at Cordelia. Has the Mayor been caught telling a little white lie? Surely not.

[Cordelia(#1394)] Bobbing a little curtsey to Nob as a sort of greeting, Cordelia says nothing--keeping her mouth decidedly -shut- as the conversation shifts focus off of her.

[Galharth(#28711)] \"And yet you mentioned them.......\" Galharth says, pausing as he might have mentioned the human female\'s name had it been given, \".....I\'m sorry, I do not wish to be rude, but you didn\'t mention your name.\"

Turning at the sound of another\'s entrance, crystal blue eyes go wide at the sight of the small figures approach, \"Another halfling...\" he mutters in the sindarin tongue. Shaking his head a moment as if to clear whatever thoughts he might have on the matter of the hobbit, he turns to look at Torebras. \"I have heard of the problems in the wilds, and consider our party fortunate to have only encountered a wolf.\" Focusing fully on the mayor, he adds, \"We rest now within this town, and hope to do a little trading of good if permitted.\"

[Nob(#16122)] \"I wasn\'t,\" Nob says, irritation coloring his voice. \"I was looking for that dratted boy, he hasn\'t...\" The melodic non-westron words distract him, and he goggles up at the elf, seeming only now to realize it isn\'t a really tall man. And then he smiles widely, bows more deeply, and, taking a deep breath, says, \"Mayor Govvington!\" His smile grows yet wider as he waits, eager and impatient, for the elf\'s response.

\"What did you say?\" Torebras looks rather startled at the stranger\'s foreign murmur, but even more startled by Nob\'s response. However, his brown eyes light up at the mention of trade. \"Why, trade is always permitted, Mayor!\" he declares expansively, waving his pipe. \"Bree positively thrives on trade.\" He pauses for breath, then goes on, \"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Torebras Bywater, Mayor of Bree!\" He sweeps off his dark-green feathered hat, revealing a yellowed bruise across his temple.

Lucky Cordelia - his questions for her seem to have been entirely forgotten.

[Cordelia(#1394)] \"Miss Wood,\" Cordelia answers the elf politely. Her eyes flick briefly between the elf and Nob\'s twisted version of a sindarin greeting--and her smile widens suddenly--but, then again, the elf -did- ask her a question and it\'s only polite to smile in return.

[Galharth(#28711)] A smile, much like one a adult might give a child who attemps a task well above their age, crosses over the firstborn\'s face. \"Mae govannen tithin pen\" Galharth responds in sindarin, before turning his tongue to that of the common language. \"You speak the language of the elves. I am impressed.\" he says to Nob. \"It is a pleasure to speak to others in my native tongue whilst so far from home. I thank you for such a greeting.\"

Looking to Torebras be bows his head formally. \"Then trade shall be our effort whilst we rest and enjoy the hospitality of your city, Mayor Torebras. I am a Tailor by trade and have several outfits that might be of interest to both humans and halflings.\" Pausing again he peers deeply into the females eyes, \"And it is a pleasure to meet you Miss Wood,\" he says with an almost magical voice.

[Nob(#16122)] Nob beams, his smile nearly too large for his face. But modestly, he says, \"I only know a few words.\" And he stands a bit taller now, if possible. After all no one /else/ has greeted the stranger in his own language! \"My name is Nob,\" he adds hurriedly. \"I help to run the Inn you see here. If you or your... er ... people need refreshment or lodging?\"

Outfits? The vain Torebras\' eyes light up even more, and he exclaims, \"Splendid, splendid! Perhaps-\" But he is fated not to continue, for at that moment the door to the yard opens again, to be blocked almost entirely by a red-faced farmer. \"Ah, /there/ you are, Mister Bywater. Bin wantin\' a word with yous.\" Torebras sighs, nods and tells the elf regretfully, \"Alas, our discourse must continue some other time, Mayor Govvington. A mayor\'s work is never done, as they say. Mister Nob,\" he turns, \"will you look after our guest? Oh, and Miss Wood was wanting a word with you.\" Duty done, he turns away to follow the farmer back indoors.