Bree -- A light luncheon
A tale freshly told of the Breefolk
Bree\'s Mayor is wise to the fact that \'courtesy visits\' carried out near to lunchtime can mean a free meal. And with Conall Leafturner cooking, who\'d refuse the invitation? Nob certainly doesn\'t.
Smial Rise - At the Smials
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The road winds up the side of Bree Hill, going past many hobbit smials on the way to the hilltop. The view from here is lovely, looking out over the city of Bree and the lands beyond to the west. On a clear day, one can see the Blue Mountains far, far to the west.
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Obvious exits:
South leads to Above the Prancing Pony.
Overhill Smial leads to Overhill Smial - Entrance Hall.
Leafturner Smial leads to Leafturner Smial - Living Room.
Up leads to Near the Top of Bree Hill.
Broad Way leads to Broad Way - North Bree.
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================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Thu Jul 10 15:17:36 2008
Bree time: Late Morning <11> on Sunday of Spring - May 28,1444
Moon Phase: Full Moon
Breelands Weather
The late morning spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The sky is clear and the sunlight shines brightly.
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It\'s a fine May morning, and golden sunlight streams down from an almost cloudless sky. The air is mild, stirred by a breeze that brings with it the scent of new-mown grass coupled with the occasional whiff of cooking (hobbits, after all, are fond of their food).
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Along the road strolls Torebras Bywater, pipe tucked in his pocket and a new-looking green hat set firmly on his head, the feather that is tucked in it bouncing as he walks. He pauses thoughtfully outside the nearest smial to adjust his hat, then sets his furry feet on the path. \"Now then, who next?\" he murmurs. \"Ah, the Leafturners.\"
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[Conall(#26314)] Coming up the hill from the Pony, comes the son of the wealthy Leafturners, Conall. He walks up to his own smial, which pales in comparison to most wealthy hobbits\' smials. Obviously, Conall actually works for a living. He even is still wearing an ale-stained apron. He seems happy and is smoking his pipe, enjoying every pull.
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[Nob(#16122)] And strolling along from the other direction is Nob. Unlike his normal busy self, he is nearly ambling - pausing now and again to admire the spring flowers, sniffing appreciatively at the air... \"Morning,\" he calls out, lifting a hand to Torebras. Further down, he sees Conall coming, and widens his wave to include the apprentice.
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Something, perhaps the pipe-weed, catches Torebras\' attention before he has taken more than a single step, and he turns to spy Conall trudging up the road. \"Ah, Mister Leafturner! Lovely morning, isn\'t it? I was just out to making some courtesy calls ...\" And wangling for a few morsels of food and drink along the way, no doubt.
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The hail from behind catches him unawares, but once he\'s identified the speaker he tips his hat and offers Nob a broad smile. \"Good day to you, Mister Nob! Why, how can the Pony manage without the pair of you there?\" There\'s a twinkle in his brown eyes.
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[Conall(#26314)] \"Ah, Mayor Bywater. A lovely day. Come in, come in.\" Conall hurries to his round door opens it and holds his arms out as if to show the way. He then hears Nob and smiles, \"Your welcome to come in to. I was just about to fix my supper.\" He takes a long pull from his pipe.
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[Nob(#16122)] Food. Nob perks up at once and he walks a bit faster. \"Why thank you, don\'t mind if I do...\" And he is inside, where Conall can\'t change his mind. To the mayor, he says, \"Ah well, I just decided I needed a day to myself, if you know what I mean?\" There are, most strangely, bits of twigs caught in his curly hair, and a longish rip in one leg of his pants.
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You enter the Smial.
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Leafturner Smial - Living Room
The Leafturner smial is one in a series of smaller dwellings on Bree hill. Its construction shares a similiar floor plan to a number of the less opulant holes. While the delved domicile is small, it is nonetheless comfortable as a hobbit home. Its walls, doors, and windows are customiarily round and most of the hole is laid out as rooms connected to rooms instead of with hallways. The front door opens directly into a sitting room. Its decor is quaint the walls have some simple pictures and a fresh arragement of flowers sit on an undecorated table. Past two overstuffed chairs a round doorway leads into the next most important room in a hobbit\'s home: the well attended kitchen. The two rooms share a common fireplace with a wide hearth and large chimney. At meal times and in the winter, the fireplace casts a bright cheerful glow into both rooms, and almost enough heat to reach the few rooms beyond. Past the kitchen, there are a few bedrooms and a bath, none of which warrant any special description.
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Obvious exits:
Out
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\"If you\'re sure you don\'t mind ...\" Torebras demurs, but there\'s no hesitation in his step as he patters through the door that Conall holds open for him. Once inside, he removes his hat and glances round for a hat-stand.
He doesn\'t spare a single glance behind him, and thus does not yet notice Nob\'s dishevelled condition.
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[Conall(#26314)] Once inside, Conall ducks around a corner. He can be heard through the fireplace, \"What would you like to eat. I have some rather good sausages, some lemon cake, good bread, and some...moldy cheese? Nope, I don\'t have any cheese, I\'m sorry to say. Let\'s see...ah...that should be very good. Do you like fruit with your meals? I have good fruit, and some of the Pony\'s fine biscuits. Hmmm...and to drink? I have wine from the Shire, a bottle of mead, and well ale.
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[Nob(#16122)] \"Yes, thank you,\" Nob says eagerly, then looks sheepishly at the Mayor\'s backside, coughs and amends hastily, \"Perhaps some sausages and a bit of cake.\" He runs his hand through his hair a bit distractedly and picks out a leaf.
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Torebras sets his hat on a peg, coughs delicately and murmurs politely in response to Conall\'s frantic calls, \"That would be most kind.\" Glancing round the room, he settles down in a comfortable chair to wait for their host. Now he does notice Nob\'s rather .. ah, rustic appearance, and one eyebrow lifts. \"I trust you didn\'t take a tumble, Mister Nob?\" he enquires with concern.
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[Conall(#26314)] A crash takes place in the kitchen, \"EVERYTHINGS OKAY.\" Then muttering can be heard, quite easily, \"Oh mother\'s glass. Ooo she\'s going to kill me. Confusticate and bebother my cousins. That glass wasn\'t supposed to be on that shelf. Well, back to work. Okay...now to light the stove. OUCH! Darn, okay...let\'s try again. There we go.\" I sizzling sound begins to pour from the kitchen through the fireplace. \"So, to what do I owe this visit, Mayor Bywater?\"
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[Nob(#16122)] Nob shakes his head and a frown descends on his normally cheerful face. \"No,\" he says disgustedly. \"I was out looking for That Boy.\" The words are not only underlined and capitalized, but bolded as well. And not pleasantly. He brushes futilely at his pants, shakes a head over the rip which will not disappear no matter how carefully he dusts it off, and then his head comes up, eyes wide. \"My,\" he says in a whisper. \"Ought we to... go and help him, d\'you think?\"
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Torebras shifts a little in his seat. \'I ... ah, that is, I thought that it was time I got to know the good folk of Bree a little better, find out if there\'s anything in particular that you\'d like to see done, and suchlike - oh, and we\'re looking for volunteers to help with the Harvest Fair,\' he slips in casually at the end.
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He gives Nob a silent headshake, then whispers back, \"Best not. It wouldn\'t be polite!\" More loudly, he repeats, \'That boy? The Pinewick fellow? He\'s been gone over a week, doubt we\'ll see hide nor hair of him again.\' He sniffs.
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[Conall(#26314)] \"What boy,\" comes from the kitchen, around the same time, the smell of good sausages fried in perfect grease and mead wafts through. \"Keldean? Why...Have you seen him? I swear, that girl, Nob, that girl is evil. I am starting to think she may have seduced that boy, and then robbed him.\" Conall comes walking in with a bottle of wine that seems to be from the Southfarthing, a bottle of mead that bares a \"Leafturner\" stamp, and a hoddle of tea. With them is wine glasses, mugs, and tea cups. \"Sausages should be done soon.\"
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[Nob(#16122)] Nob nods silently, relaxing a little bit and looking around for a chair as sausages begin to cook - evidently unburned, and the smial doesn\'t, after all, seem to be on the verge of coming down around their ears. \"Yes,\" he says then, raising his voice to include Conall, \"Keldean! And after I gave him another chance.\" He shakes his head and abruptly stops shouting as Conall comes in. \"I don\'t think anyone else needs to be blamed but himself - do you /know/ what he\'s gone and done now? STOLEN my pony! AND the cart! And I don\'t know what he\'s done with the wood, and how I\'m supposed to get it in now, I\'d like to know?\"
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Torebras\' first sniff is followed by a second, more appreciative, at the fine smell of sausages. He eyes the label on the wine bottle, and his face brightens hopefully. \"I don\'t usually indulge at this time of day ... well, maybe just one glass,\" he tells Conall.
Nob\'s ranting leaves the Mayor open-mouthed. \"What!?\" he exclaims, actually springing to his feet. \"You\'re sure it\'s him? Absolutely disgraceful. Something will have to be /done/!\" His round face reddens. \"And pony and cart? Hmm. I\'ll have to see if any of our merchants have had goods gone missing. Dear oh dear.\"
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[Conall(#26314)] Conall looks at the Mayor, \"Obviously this has distraught you. However, you shouldn\'t go running out willy and nilly. No, stay eat, and drink. Keldean will still be a thief tonight as he is today.\" He hands a glass of the wine to the mayor. He then trots back around to the kitchen. The sizzling sound stops and the sound of plates being laid out can be heard.
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[Nob(#16122)] Nob nods glumly. \"I wouldn\'t be surprised,\" he says darkly. \"And if he ever comes trying to poke his head in around here again...\" The hobbit leaves the threat unfinished, but from the look on his face, Keldean won\'t find it very pleasant. \"I don\'t suppose he might have left the cart in the woods,\" he says, not very hopefully, helping himself to a cup of tea. And gradually his face begins to clear. \"This is quite good,\" he says after some time spent sipping in silence.
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Torebras rocks back and forward on his feet, still all of a flap. However, at Conall\'s gesture he takes the wine - after all, it would be impolite to refuse, wouldn\'t it? - sucks in his breath and obediently sits back down. A sip or two of the red seems to steady his nerves.
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\"Oh, don\'t you worry, Mister Nob. I\'ll put word out to the Breeguard - if the boy does try to enter town they\'ll apprehend him,\" he assures his fellow hobbit. \"And I suppose we could have someone look in the Chetwood for your cart - though I don\'t know how many folk the Breeguard can spare,\" he mumbles doutfully. He keeps one ear cocked for sounds of progress in the kitchen.
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[Conall(#26314)] \"I would suggest a search of Archet, I saw Cordelia staying at one of the homes near Seeker\'s.\" Conall comes out with a large tray with three plates. Each plate has four sausages, a good chunk of bread, an apple, and a piece of lemon cake. He hands one plate to each of the other hobbits, and then sits down himself to a chair and takes a mug and fills it with mead. As he takes a sip, he looks up, \"Mmm father did well by this.\" He then sits back up, puts the mug and plate on a side table. He walks over to a small chest on the mantle and takes out three pipeweed bags, \"Old Toby, Breeleaf, or a special blend I picked up a while ago, when we were in the Shire last. I can\'t remember its name.\"
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[Nob(#16122)] But Nob looks up eager and hopeful, not hearing (or ignoring) the doubt. \"Would you? That would be wonderful! I really haven\'t time to go hunting through the Chetwood myself, what with the Inn and all, you know.\" He accepts the plate, murmuring a thanks, and starts to eat. \"Breeleaf for myself,\" he says when he has stopped chewing long enough to speak.
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\"Hmm? Ah, I suppose that might be prudent,\" Torebras mumbles in response to Conall\'s first words. Yet /more/ work for Bree\'s \'overworked\' mayor, his heavy sigh and downturned mouth proclaim. His despondency doesn\'t last long, though. \"Thank you, thank you!\" he proclaims, beaming, as Conall hands him a plate. A few mouthfuls later, \"Mister Leafturner, you have outdone yourself!\". At the question about pipeweed he pauses chewing and swallowing long enough to answer, \"I am rather partial to Old Toby.\"
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[Conall(#26314)] A large grin creeps its way onto Conall\'s face, \"Thank you Mayor.\" He hands the bag of Toby to the Mayor, the bag of Breeleaf to Nob, and he takes the Shire blend, \"Do you have your pipes on you? I have spares, they are well ornamented, but they pull very well.\" He smiles at this and laughs a good deep and fruity laugh, as he begins to eat. \"Yes, yes. So well Mayor you don\'t seem to like to talk shop, so speak on what you like to speak about.\"
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[Nob(#16122)] \"I\'ve mine,\" Nob mumbles around sausage, as he pats at his pocket and finally draws out a slim pipe. For a while, he is occupied trying to light the pipe and eat, and finish his tea - seemingly all at once!
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In answer to Conall, Torebras simply points to his waistcoat pocket, from whence a pipe-stem protrudes. He concentrates on clearing his plate of bread and sausages, so it is a while before he responds to the attempt at conversation. \"I\'m sorry, Mister Leafturner. I\'m afraid I was quite distracted by the news brought by Mister Nob here. There have been complaints against the Pinewick boy, but I had No Idea ...\" He coughs and carefully tries to change the topic of conversation. \"Was there anything you would particularly like to discuss, Mr Leafturner? I\'m happy to discourse on most subjects.\"
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Sausage gone, he carefully fills his pipe before taking a bite of apple.
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[Conall(#26314)] \"Nothing of importance. Lately I\'ve been thinking of putting in a garden. I\'ve thought about opening my own tavern, but that can wait. I have thought of going back to the Shire, and maybe see if we can get more of their liquors, ales, and meads flowing to Bree more often than a yearly trip. I wouldn\'t mind see a cartload come through maybe every fall, spring and summer.\" Conall clears his own plate, and begins to dine on the cake and take long pulls from his pipe and blowing smoke rings.
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[Nob(#16122)] Nob looks up in something like alarm at this stated aim of Conall\'s. \"Only if we\'re taking just as much back again!\" he says, gulping down the last of his cake in such a hurry he nearly chokes on it, and begins to cough.
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Torebras nods distractedly at Conall, his brow still somewhat furrowed. At the mention of the Shire his head comes up. \"You know, Mister Leafturner, that is an excellent idea,\" he remarks, beaming across the room at the other hobbit. \"I\'ve had thoughts myself of trying to set up a regular Shire-Bree courier service. I would have done something about it last year if my younger brother hadn\'t been .. ahem, indisposed.\" Apple devoured, he is reaching to light his pipe when Nob begins to cough. \"Crumb went down the wrong way?\" he enquires solicitously, reaching over in an attempt to pat the suffering assistant inn-keeper\'s back.
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[Conall(#26314)] \"Of course, I always thought a better trade agreement between our hobbit-lands would be beneficial. Though most likely we should speak with the leaders of the Shire first. Maybe, maybe we should invite Master Frodo or one of the other wealthy hobbits of Hobbiton to Bree, so that we could test the waters and then eventually make such an agreement.\" Conall looks proud of himself, and blows a few smoke rings.
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[Nob(#16122)] Nob coughs and coughs, turning red in the face and watery-eyed. Finally, he manages, hiccupping, to recover himself. \"Yes,\" he says hoarsely, sounding a bit more happy about any arrangement that involves \'wealthy\' and \'Bree\' in the same sentence.
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Torebras eyes Nob in alarm at first (what if the Pony\'s assistant inn-keeper were to expire? Unthinkable!), but once he\'s satisfied himself that his fellow-hobbit is recovering he lights his pipe and pulls on it thoughtfully. \"A capital notion,\" he remarks to Conall, beaming across the room. \"And a forward thinker like yourself would be the ideal person to extend the invitation. Though I\'m afraid I\'m not acquainted with the hobbit you mention.\" His forehead wrinkles. \"Perhaps one of the Tooks or Hornblowers might be appropriate? Hmm. I know that Mister Clothweaver had talked of taking another caravan to the Shire, you should speak with him ... /I/ should speak with him.\" He gulps down the last of his wine hastily.
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Wine-glass empty, and plate bare save for a few crumbs of lemon cake, Torebras gets to his feet. \"You know, I think I should go and look for Mister Clothweaver now, to discuss the Shire proposal while it\'s fresh in my mind and enquire if there\'s been any stolen goods. Perhaps I can get him to have a word with all the other merchants, he\'s very obliging.\" He brightens at the thought of less work for himself. \"Thank you, Mister Leafturner, for a very fine meal.\" He bows to Conall. \"Good day to you, Mister Nob.\"
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Lifting his hat down from the peg, he disappears through the door, the original matter of organizing the harvest fair having quite slipped his mind.