Shire Road Trip I: On The Road

Logfile from Elendor.

Boldibad\'s Coach(#4884Vaet)

The interior of the coach is small, but it appears to be comfortable enough for a long trip. There are two cushioned benches on each side of the coach, with a window on each end. The windows all have small curtains.

Windows: open

Curtains: open

Bell: ready

Door: unlocked

Location: Frogmorton(#3542Rnto)

Who or What\'s in Here?

Boldibad(#22742PeA+cfT)

Barrel of Southlinch(#24242n)

Old Toby Barrel(#26403aM)

Thasto(#32237PenA+c)

How to Get Outta Here?

Door (out)

================================= +SHIRE TIME =================================

RL (Arizona) Time is Wed Feb 23 14:20:30 2011 (+time).

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IC Time is 00:01:30 on Friday, Astron (April) 7, 1452 S.R.

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IC Weather Conditions:

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The wind sends fluffy white clouds tumbling across the sky as warm breezes sigh gently through new buds that paint the trees with a green tint. The sky is veiled in cloud, hiding any trace of the moon.

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Boldibad(#22742PeA+cfT)

Boldibad Bolger

Setting: IC

By all appearances, a gentlehobbit, distinguished by at least five decades of age and experience. Wrinkles only seem to be making their presence known by making their way into the sides of his mouth, and around his eyes. Probably weighing in well over 120 pounds, his girth seems respectable, at least as far as Bolgers go. Despite the extra weight, and advancing age, Boldibad seems to be in fine health.

A few inches of curly, reddish-brown hair cover his head and hang down past his ears. The texture appears to be quite thick, almost wooly. His relatively large feet are coated by similar stuff, the only difference is that this hair appears to be trimmed much shorter than that on his head. His nose is somewhat bulbous, but not so much as to look out of proportion with the rest of his face.

He is wearing a white shirt of cotton, buttoned all the way up. On top of this is an old waistcoat that seems to fit him perfectly. The waistcoat is red with yellow buttons up the center and over the pockets.

Draped over his shoulders is a thick, green cloak meant to keep the chill of winter out. It is held shut with a fine brooch of silver.

A silver chain dangles from a pocket in his waistcoat. It appears to be attached to a watch.

His trousers are black and they dangle somewhat below his ankles. A black belt of thin leather has been wrapped around his waist and from it hangs a couple of pouches that probably contain money or pipeweed.

|Boldibad is looking at you.|

Thasto

Thasto Proudfoot is about average for a Hobbit. He\'s roughly two-and-five-sixths feet tall, and slightly rotund \'round the middle. His head is topped with thick, curly, sandy-coloured hair, and his bright blue eyes are surrounded with scores of laugh lines.

He is dressed simply, wearing a blue-and-black linen shirt with dulled pewter buttons and stained slightly with stout stains. He is also wearing a pair of brown woolen trousers, held up with a black leather belt. On his shoulder is a woolen indigo cloak.

Carrying:

Shire Ale Samples(#18465)

Thasto climbs up into the posh coach. He takes a look around the small yet ornate interior with a note of being impressed and climbs in. Spotting Boldibad (not being difficult considering the small interior of the coach), Thasto nods and, with a smile says, \'Good Morning, Master Bolger. How has your journey so far been?\'

Boldibad looks up quickly, hitting his head on a glass-covered lamp jutting out of the wall of the vehicle. \"Oof!\" he exclaims. Rubbing the back of his head, he clears his throat, \"Er, good morning, Mr. Proudfoot. Just fine, just fine, even though I had to replace one of my ponies last night--the old nag always seems to be too sick to do anything these days.\" He goes back to his work, shoving one of the two barrels as far back against the opposite bench-seat as he can. He pauses, slightly agitated, \"What can I do for you today?\"

\'Dreadful to hear. Just dreadful.\' Thasto says, shaking his head and clucking his tongue against the rood of his mouth. \'You haven\'t far to go, I hope? Though I think your ponies look fresh and strong enough, and surely eager to be enjoying this nice Spring weather.\'

Boldibad tightens the rope that holds the barrels in place and lowers himself backward into the vacant seat. As he speaks, he searches his waistcoat for some item, soon producing a medium-length, wooden pipe. \"Well, quite far actually. I\'m going all the way to Bree--well beyond the Bounds, you see.\" He chuckles, \"And perhaps even farther! You had better be along now, before my driver sets this coach into motion, lad.\"

Thasto straightens himself up. \'Bree? You don\'t say! I\'m sure you wouldn\'t mind a bit of company on your trip, eh?\' He dusts himself off and scratches the back of his head. \'As a matter of fact, I was just looking to purchase a new cart for just such a trip. I always head that that way this time of year with the Spring Ale shipment, and my cart just didn\'t make it through this past Winter, you see.\'

Boldibad grimaces, \"Er, uh,\" he stammers as though trying to find the best way to decline. \"Er, well--you know, I...\" He sighs, \"Of course, I would love to have you along. There won\'t be much space in here, however... and, it\'s very dangerous. Why, the last time I went, I was assaulted by a.. a monster, \'tall as the Grange. And, in Bree, I was robbed by Big Folk!\" He hems, \"And if you\'ve got an ale shipment, well... there will be even less room to move about!\"

Old Toby Barrel(#26403aM)

Before you sits a barrel of pipeweed. The barrel is made of wood, with metal rings holding the pieces of wood tightly together. A plaque on the front of the barrel reads:

Old Toby

FRESH from the SHIRE

The pipeweed looks quite tantalizing, enough to cause just about anyone to crave a smoke. Perhaps you\'d like to FILL your PIPE.

FILL BARREL will refill the barrel.

SELL BARREL TO will sell this barrel to .

\'Oh pish. There\'s plenty of room to fit the kegs on the rear and the roof\' Says Squire Proudfoot. \'And I have been to Bree a number of times - twice a year to be specific - for these Stout shipments. Quite lucrative, you know.\' He hmms to himself, \'Ah!\' Thasto says, fishing around in his pocket. \'I\'ll even chip in a a half-dozen silver pennies to defray the costs of your Old Nag being sick.\'

Boldibad puffs on the pipe he had just filled and appears to be thoughtful for a moment. He nods, \"Very well, that sounds reasonable.\" He knocks on the wall behind him and calls, \"Mr. Bracegirdle--would you help Pr--er, Mr. Proudfoot load his goods, and then let\'s be off! The day is wasting, and I would like to get as far as possible before the evening comes!\" Thilo Bracegirdle does so, and soon the vehicle is in motion.

Thasto watches the passing greenery as they pass along the Road. His stomach grumbles mildly.

Boldibad lifts his chin from his chest, and opens his eyes slowly. He cocks an eyebrow, \"What was that sound, Mr. Proudfoot?\"

Thasto snaps his head around. \'Hmm? Oh, that rumbling sound I suppose you mean? Just my stomach\'s way of letting me know it\'s time for Afternoon Tea.\' He reaches into a pack and pulls out a large wrapped kerchief. \'Would you care for some?\'

As the vehicle moves down the road, shaking and rattling here and there, Boldibad pushes himself up in his seat. He yawns a bit, and looks out the open window. \"Well, I\'m surprised you didn\'t speak up sooner--it\'s nearly dark now.\" He taps on the wall behind him and opens up the little porthole. \"Thilo--why don\'t we stop for a while?\"

The driver must have heard Boldibad, as the coach slows to a stop on the side of the road.

Thasto catches the contagious yawn and does so as well. \'It\'s a lovely ride. I suppose I hadn\'t much thought of it.\' He puts the kerchief back in his pack. \'Shall we get a nice fire going? The days might be warm, but the nights still are chilly.\'

Boldibad nods, waiting for Thasto to open the door. \"A good idea--if you and Mr. Bracegirdle would get the fire going, I\'ll see about getting some of this Ol\' Toby out for us. You know, that Old Toby barrel is for the trip--the Southlinch is for the Breefolk!\"

Boldibad leans forward, lifting the lid of the Southlinch. A mediocre aroma fills the coach, and he wrinkles his nose. \"Dreadful stuff--I don\'t see how anybody could smoke it.\"

Thasto chuckles. \'Of course, of course.\' He pops the door open. \'Bracegirdle! Help me gather some wood, eh? That\'s a good chap.\' He says, as he disappears out the door.

Thasto has left.

East Road - By the Old Forest

The Great East road travels on for many miles in each direction, moving parallel to the northern edge of the Old Forest. The Shire is still many miles to the west, and Bree many miles east. Here, between the forest and the Barrow downs which lie just to the southeast, you realize that travelling the roads alone might not have been a wise idea! You\'d best hurry on your way!

Contents:

Old Toby Barrel(#26403aM)

Thilo(#28016VeMp)

Thasto

Boldibad\'s Coach(#4884Vaet)

Sign post

Obvious exits:

East, West, and South

Thilo climbs down from the driver\'s bench, and puts his hands on his hips. \"Excuse me! That\'s MISTER Bracegirdle to you, young fellow!\" Grumbling, he goes off to gather dried wood, and Boldibad all but stumbles out of the interior after Thasto, dragging a barrel with him. Once on the ground, he stretches his whole body and takes a concerned look around him. \"You gentlehobbits take care--you know what Forest that is, after all...\"

Boldibad rolls the barrel over to a flat spot near the road, where a fallen log serves as a fine seat. He returns to the vehicle and, after some searching, produces a basket. As he checks the contents, he nods, and then looks toward the woods. \"Don\'t be too long, eh? Now my stomach is rumbling, too!\" He sits on the log, and pulls a seedcake from the basket.

The sun sinks in the sky and falls below the horizon. Nighttime takes over.

Thasto fortunately doesn\'t have to go far to find a couple faggots of dead wood. He picks them up and hurries back to the Campsite - definately not dilly-dallying anywheres under the Forest eaves. He arranges the wood into a proper setup. \'Master Bolger, care to get us up and lit?\'

Just before the seedcake reaches his lips, Boldibad pauses and lowers his arm. Wrinkling his nose, he says, \"Er, well--ahh, very well.\" Just as Thilo arrives with an armful of sticks and branches, Boldibad pulls out a flint-n-steel, and goes about setting up the kindling and tinder.

After several attempts, and a few light curses, Boldibad finally gets a flame to the dried stuff, and Thilo begins adding the bigger stuff to the blaze. \"Ah!\" says Boldibad. \"I usually am not very good at this sort of thing!\"

Thasto cheers. \'Ah, much better. Good job, sir!\' He takes out a silver flask from his waistcoat and unscrews it. \'A toast to you and your fire-starting skills!\' He takes a swig and offers it to Boldy.

Thilo lowers his rotund shape onto the log, and Boldibad peers at the flask. \"Er, no thank you,\" he says, as he produces a wine bottle from the basket. \"I\'ve brought something. Help yourself to the seedcakes,\" he says, gesturing toward the basket. As he talks, the fire blazes up, and the sounds of night-time seem to begin to grow louder from the forest. \"You say you do this regularly, Mr. Proudfoot?\"

Thasto offers the refused flask to Thilo, then. \'Twice a year.\' He says, fumbling around in his pack. \'Once in the Spring and once in the Fall. Not always myself. My Brothers will go sometimes, or sometimes my Father.\' He picks out the kerchief and another package. \'I\'ve some cheese and smoked trout if you gentlemen would care for some as well.\'

Thilo nods politely and accepts the flask, taking a generous pull.

Boldibad takes a large bite of seedcake. \"I\'ll have some, thank you. Why, my neice often prepares the same food when we feel like a night-time snack at Bolger Smial. You remember Amethyst,\" he says, avoiding eye contact purposely.

Thasto takes a strip of trout and munches on it. \'Amethyst, Amethyst.\' He looks up as The Mariner starts rising over head. \'Rings a bell, I suppose.\' He takes the flask back from Thilo and takes his own pull to wash down the fish.

Boldibad purses his lips and looks up sharply for a moment. \"Of course. Well, she\'s doing quite well. She\'s courting a fine young Chubb-Baggins, now that you mention it. A very respectable chap indeed.\"

Thilo passes back the flask, and helps himself to one of the seedcakes, glancing up occasionally, but not offering anything to the particular conversation.

Thasto smirks softly. \'Oh, is she?\' He asks somewhat unconcerned. \'I had heard that a particular Brandybuck had *ahem* expressed interest in the young lady.\'

Boldibad takes another bite of the seedcake, \"Yes, well, many have, but of course, Mr. and Mrs. Bolger wouldn\'t allow her to mix with that family. She has had a few encounters with degenerates in the past, and has learnt her lesson--say, now I remember! Weren\'t you and her rather friendly for a time?\" He begins to reach for the fish--\"Er, may I?\"

Thasto smiles pleasantly. \'Of course you may. I brought it along to be eaten, after all.\' He takes out a small knife and peels a piece of cheese off of the wedge. He arches his back to work out a kink and says, \'I do see to recall seeing her last time I was down near Budge Ford. Pity I don\'t think I\'ve been that way since the last summer. There was a pleasant little pub down there. I\'m afraid I can\'t recall the name, however.\'

Boldibad nods, \"I understand. It can be difficult to remember one pub when one has so many to frequent.\" He polishes off the seedcake and pours some wine into a glass from the basket. \"Are you sure you wouldn\'t like some? It\'s one of the finest from the Bolger cellar, you know. They don\'t sell this in the pubs!\"

Thilo clears his throat, and moves to fill his pipe.

Thilo shuffles some of the pipeweed into a pipe, leaving roughly 98 dips of weed in the barrel.

Thasto nods. \'Quite right. I\'m sure I have the name in a ledger somewhere. Usually only the North Farthing pubs have any brew worth remembering. Thought there\'s one in Needlehole I enjoy. Needlehole might as well be North Farthing, of course. Am I right?\' He takes a look at the bottle and strokes his chin. \'Is it sweet or dry?\' He asks.

Boldibad takes a sip of the red liquid, and sets the bottle down where anybody might reach it. \"Well, I do not visit that area very often--I simply never have any reason to. And, dry--of course. Oh dear! I did not bring another glass...\" He reaches down and takes the bit of fish and cheese, and stretches out his legs, crossing his ankles near the crackling fire.

\'And so is life!\' Thasto says with a sigh. \'No matter. I have a taste for stronger stuff this evening. Warms the bones, you know.\' He picks up a seedcake. \'Pity. The North Farthing really is lovely, especially this time of year when the Wildflowers start to bloom. Why, as I was just discussing with Holly Boffin last month. . .\' He trails off as he puts another piece of fish into his mouth.

Thilo stretches out on his part of the log, and seems to sink quickly into a light sleep. Boldibad takes a piece of the fish and cheese as well, and washes it down with another sip of the wine. \"Yes--?\" Suddenly, a strange sound comes from the Old Forest, behind them. Boldibad starts, and looks over one shoulder, then the other. \"Well, I\'ll be a Took,\" he mutters. \"Did you hear that, Mr. Proudfoot?\"

Boldibad pulls his cloak around him and leans toward the fire. \"I do not know--I would have said it sounded like an injured mutt, if it weren\'t for that strange whistling sort of noise that accompanied it... it\'s strange outside The Bounds, to say the least, eh?\"

Thasto nods. \'Indeed, indeed. Though it\'s starting to get queer inside the Shire as well.\' He keeps his eye on the Wood, grasping a brand from the fire just in case. \'I wonder if you have heard about the strange Beast in the fields between Oatbarton and the Greenfields?\'

Boldibad glances down, \"What in the four farthing are you going to do with that, sir? If a monster comes after us, it would be better to run, you know. Though, I did bring my hunting bow along, in case it might be needed.\" He speaks that last sentence somewhat nervously, then adds, \"Er, no, I haven\'t heard. Do tell.\"

Thasto nods. \'Oh yes, yes. The Cottagers and Husbandhobbits in the fields are telling stories about their chickens and whatnot being eet by Something. No one\'s seen it yet, though. Hopefully now that the snow is thawing, we\'ll be able to see what\'s going on.\'

Boldibad says, \"Go on! Seriously?\" He strokes his chin thoughtfully, and looks nervously over his shoulder once again. \"Those Bounders must be getting lazy again... and, of course, the Shirriffs are barely good for escorting drunkards home from the taverns, these days. What is the Shire coming to?\" He shakes his head.

\'The snows get awful deep out there.\' Thasto says. \'We\'ll find it whatever it is. Marroc North-Took thinks it\'s a bear, but I doubt it. A bear would be easy enough to track, even with the bad weather we\'ve had.\'

Suddenly, Boldibad seems to become agitated, and stands up. \"A bear? Well, burn the mushrooms, there hasn\'t been a bear in the Shire since... er, well, what a topic to converse about here, by the Old Forest! I\'m going to the coach for the night...\" He stands, and makes his way toward the vehicle. Perhaps he\'s covering his nervousness with anger. \"Good night!\"

Thasto snickers a little to himself. \'Good night, Master Bolger. Have a restful sleep.\' He says and takes a swig from his flask.

We hope you enjoyed your stay in Middle-earth.

Come back soon!

*** DISCONNECTED ***