The Great Kettle Mystery - IV. Spilled ink

Common Room(#32029RM)

This large and rectangular room serves the purpose of Common Room for the Prancing Pony. Large windows along the western end of the room peek out over the Great East Road which runs outside the Inn. There are long tables with bench seats for the patrons in the centre of the room. Nestled into the wall is a large fireplace with several bundles of wood piled next to it. Overhead, lamps hang down from roof beams, but their light is dim and half-veiled in smoke. The corners of the room are wrapped in shadow.

Obvious exits:

Out

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

Real time: Wed Sep 09 14:37:36 2009

Bree time: Nighttime <23> on Mersday of Autumn - November 25,1447

Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon

Breelands Weather

The nighttime autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. The night sky is cloud-filled and gloomy.

===============================================================================

It\'s a chilly November night, and outside the frost is nipping. The Pony is bustling, of course - it\'s that time of night when sensible folk really /ought/ to be thinking about heading home, but given it\'s cold outside and warm inside, most of the Pony\'s customers are lingering.

Young hobbit Brandebras Bywater sits alone, tucked away in a nook by the fire, with a half-empty mug of steaming hot spiced cider in his hand. Perhaps the red in his cheeks is not just the heat of the fire ... Every now and then someone glances over at him, and murmurs to their neighbour:

\".. took Mistress Kettleton\'s pot right from her hearth, so they say ...\"

\".. bad blood. Just look at the brother ...\"

\"..ask me, he needs feeding up not locking up. Poor little feller...\"

[Periabo(#17410)] Tootle-oot-doo. In comes another hobbit, blowing a brief tune on his flute. He frowns at it and examines it carefully as he moves up to a nearby table. \"No, that will not do,\" says Periabo of the Longholes. \"It\'s a bit flat on the high notes... oh, now I see where it happened. Careless of me, just careless...\"

A few heads turn at the sound of slightly off-key tootling. Two of the gossiping worthies rise from their stools and move away, giving the new-come Periabo a dirty look. Brandebras, by contrast, looks quite interested. His round face loses its blank, worried look and his cheeks a little of their pinkness. \"What are you playing?\" he asks, moving out of his nook and toward the newcomer then, puzzled, \"Is it supposed to sound like that?\"

Periabo gives a nod to Brandebras. \"Ah, it\'s one of my flutes,\" he says. \"And no, it\'s not supposed to sound like that, I must have done something wrong. I\'m still new to doing this on my own...\"

Brandebras scratches his curly head - thankfully not with the mug-holding hand, though it wavers dangerously. \"To doing what? Playing?\"

Periabo laughs. \"Oh, no, I make them,\" he says. \"And other such things.\" He takes a seat near to Brandebras. \"My brothers do the playing, they\'re much better at it than I.\"

\"Really?\" Brandebras blinks and peers again at the flute Periabo is holding. \"That must take an awful lot of skill. And it didn\'t sound so bad,\" he adds hastily, \"just ... different. Maybe if you tried another tune?\"

The door opens briefly as a group of red-faced Big Folk - farmers, by their build - exit the building. In their absence the room is a little less noisy and the heat from the fire a little less fierce.

Periabo watches as the two farmers leave. \"I suppose I could... Any requests?\" he asks with a mischievous smile.

Brandebras considers earnestly. \"Something lively,\" he says at last. \"Like a hornpipe. Or the springle-ring - that\'d be fun.\" He beams back at his fellow-hobbit.

A server bustles over to clear away the empty mugs - this being homely Bree, she is plump and matronly rather than a great beauty. \"Any more orders over here?\" she asks briskly. \"We\'ll be shutting the kitchen soon.\" Behind her a thin, tired-looking fellow sits down with a pile of wooden chits, a ledger and a pen and ink-bottle - writing up the night\'s accounts, likely.

Periabo sits up, settling into his seat. \"You first, my friend,\" he says to the other at the table.

\"Oh! Well, maybe just a /little/ bit more pie.\" Brandebras, faced with the threat of No More Food, doesn\'t take much time to make up his mind. \"Make that two slices - playing\'s hungry work, you know.\" He nods in Periabo\'s direction. \"And thirsty - what was it you\'d like to drink?\" These last words are addressed to Periabo as he wriggles into a more comfortable position on the stool he\'d chosen. His bright eyes keep straying toward the flute, awaiting its music.

[Periabo(#17410)] \"Just an ale,\" Periabo replies, \"Or two. Right then...\" He soon starts on the playing again, and now that he\'s playing from his heart rather than just testing, it sounds a good deal better than it did before.

\"It\'ll be right with you, duckies.\" The woman nods her head and moves briskly away. As the music begins, folk elsewhere in the room break off their conversations to listening. Some are smiling - free enertainment!, some rudely curious and one or two look distinctly unimpressed - why, the nerve of it, to interrupt /their/ conversations.

Brandebras, for his part, beams happily and begins to tap his fingers. \"I like that,\" he announces softly. \"It\'s-\"

Suddenly, the young hobbit jumps to his feet. His mug, forgotten in his hand, still has a good inch of cider in it and it splashes toward Periabo, but Brandebras does not even notice. Instead, he is staring at the man with the pen, ink and ledger. \"Hey!\" he says, his tone indignant. \"That\'s /my/ ink-bottle and pen!

Periabo seems much more appreciative of the flute\'s quality before he\'s interrupted by the commotion. \"Now how\'d he get a hold of that?\" he asks, looking between the two.

That question is soon answered. The man with the ledger marks the place with a forefinger and looks up, a forbidding frown on his face. \"What? Nonsense, this is the property of the Pony. Why, it was sitting on the counter when I came in this morning. And now, if you\'ll excuse me, some of us have work to do.\" Pointedly he stares at the two hobbits.

Brandebras, red-faced and flustered, protests again, \"But it\'s mine! It\'s the one I lost the day .. uh, the day I found the kettle.\" His round face flushes, but he presses on, looking to Periabo for support, \"It\'s inscribed on the bottom, \'To BB from his loving brother TB\'.\" Only then does he think to offer a belated apology, \"Sorry for interrupting your music.\"

Periabo laughs and waves it off. \"No need... As I said, I\'m not the player anyway. I got the answer I was looking for anyway. Thank you very much,\" he says. \"Does it say that?\" he asks the man with the ledger.

The thin man with the ledger looks up again. \"I have no idea,\" he says haughtily to Periabo. \"But I am sure any acquisition was above board. Things don\'t just appear out of thin air. If you have an issue, take it up with the management.\"

\"I certainly will!\" Brandebras retorts to the clerk, his round face getting redder and redder. \"Mister Nob oughter know better than to people\'s ink-bottles. And it really does say that - if you look, you\'ll see.\" The last words are addressed to Periabo.

The server, who is bustling back in with plates and a mug, catches the exchange of words and looks quite flustered about something. \"Things certainly /disappear/ round here,\" she says darkly. Like that serving dish.\"

Periabo looks curious. \"Someone\'s been nicking things then?\" he asks. \"That won\'t do at all...\"

The server nods grimly as she sets a plate and mug before Periabo, and the other plate in front of the stool Brandebras has just slid down from. \"Certainly won\'t!\" she agrees, placing her freed hands on her hips. \"Why, only last night Lily was polishing one of the big silver platters, and forgot to put it away. Left it out on the counter, she says. And now it\'s nowhere to be seen. Once on a time, Breefolk were honest and decent!\"

Brandebras, meanwhile, has decided to take matters into his own hand. He marches straight up to the frowning clerk, and attempts to lift the ink-bottle.

Periabo raises a hand toward the other hobbit as he takes up a mug. \"Er- wait... I really don\'t think that\'s the best idea...\" he says. He really doesn\'t like fights.

\'Fight\' doesn\'t seem to be quite what Brandebras has in mind, fortunately. He plonks his almost-empty mug down on the table in front of the clerk, and snatches the ink-bottle up with typical hobbit-swiftness. The clerk is not impressed. \"Do you mind?\" Glaring at Brandebras for the interruption, he jerks his ledger away from both hobbit and sticky-looking mug.

And just as well. As Brandebras lifts the (rather nice gold-inlaid) ink-bottle and turns it over, a trail of black splatters out over the table, down onto the Pony\'s wooden floor ... The hobbit flourishes the upended ink-bottle in Periabo\'s direction. \"See?\"

Periabo laughs quite loudly at this. \"Well, you\'ve proved your case... and spilled all your ink!\" he says. \"Hmm, I\'m going to have to remember that one. Could make a good family saying.\"

Brandebras blinks - and then looks at his fingers, now stained black. \"I suppose I have,\" he concedes, unworried. He matches his fellow hobbit\'s laugh with a relieved grin. \"And can I quote you on that? It has a nice ring to it.\"

The server is rather less relaxed. \"My floor!\" she cries, throwing up her hands in horror at the black puddles. Then, pushing Brandebras toward the door, \"Out with you now, young Mister Bywater! That\'s quite enough trouble you\'ve caused for one night.\" The ownership of the ink-bottle does not seem to concern her in the least. The hobbit allows himself to be ushered out, though he grabs his slice of pie as he goes.

And the clerk? He looks up from his ledgers to mutter something along the lines of, \"really most irregular,\" then, carefully marking his place, tucks the book under his arm and goes to look for another ink-bottle.