The Great Kettle Mystery. I - Watch out, there\'s a thief about!

Inside the South Gate(#19894Rto)

The Great East Road enters and leaves Bree here, through an opening in the high hedge that surrounds Bree. Where the road meets the hedge, a large stone wall has been erected, of well set stones. Under an arch of stones is a wooden door, with two small windows: one high, one low. On the west side of the road, near the door, is the gatekeeper\'s lodge. On the eastern side of the road stand a few houses. The Great East Road winds its way north, around the western flank of Bree-hill. A light shines out from the gatekeeper\'s lodge, to help ward off the night\'s darkness.

The night sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead. The late night summer air is very hot and dry around you. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.

Obvious exits:

SouthEast leads to Outside the South Gate .

Stone House leads to Bill Ferny\'s House.

West leads to Gatekeepers\' Lodge.

North leads to GER: Centre of Bree.

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

Real time: Sun Jul 26 15:47:37 2009

Bree time: Early morning on Trewsday of Summer - July 10,1447

Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon

Breelands Weather

The summer air is very hot and dry around you. The sky is clear and the sun shines brightly. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.

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Summer is at its hottest, and even in the early morning the air has a clammy, muggy feel to it. Perhaps there will be thunderstorms later.

Now, however, the lightening sky is clear and one or two more venturesome Breefolk are out and about on the first of their day\'s duties. A tired-looking young woman walks up and down outside one of the stone houses, a crying baby cradled in her arms. A toothless old man is busily engaged in driving a pig down the road toward the town\'s south gate - at least he\'s trying to. Nothing save occasional pokes with his cane seem to get the animal moving, and when it does, it\'s never in the same direction twice. And down the cobbled road from the Pony half-skips young Brandebras Bywater. His hair is tousled and uncombed, his face washed and there is a large, empty wicker basket on one arm.

[Nob(#16122)] \"It\'s true, I tell you!\" A voice is raised in indignation. Two women have stopped in the middle of the road and are arguing loudly. One flails her arms in the air wildly. \"I come home the other day, and my good metal stewpot was plain out MISSING. GONE! And right there, smack in its place what do you think I saw?\"

Creban is walking towards the city, his \'bundle of sticks\' over one shoulder. He pauses though as he hears the loud voice, slowing so that it took more time to get to them. His grey eyes look over the women quietly, placing them if he knew them.

Brandebras\' mouth falls open. \"Someone stole your dinner?\" The hobbit looks suitably shocked.

The pig, though, is unimpressed. It halts to root around in a patch of flowers outside one of the grey stone houses. \"Git on with ye!\" hollers the old man, thwacking its behind fruitlessly with his cane. Then, \"Someone help me, will ye?\" His gaze slides dismissively past the two gossipers - women - and the young hobbit - clearly a lackbrain - then rests thoughtfully on Creban.

[Nob(#16122)] \"No!\" says the other lady. \"It never was? What\'d you find?\" She is suitably agog, and her companion preens herself at the effect of her news. \"No, no,\" she says impatiently to Brandebras, glancing at Creban as well, and raising her voice a little so he can be sure to hear too. \"Just my kettle. I just cleaned it up all shiny last night and set it on my stove all ready for the morning, and when I got up, it was GONE! And right there, smack in the middle of my nice clean stove was these dirty rocks.\" It is hard to tell if she is more offended by the loss of her kettle or by the dirt on the rocks left in its place.

Creban frowns a little, puzzled by the lady\'s story and he is about to say something when the pigherder calls over. he smiles to the ladies, nodding to Brandebras as he moves to behind the pig. pulling out a whip stick of his own he gives a sharp SNAP to the pigs\' side \"come on then! Get into town with you!\"

\"Oh.\" Brandebras clearly loses some of his interest in finding the full nature of the stolen goods. \"Well, that\'s not so bad. At least you didn\'t lose anything important, like dinner.\" He beams innocently up at the afflicted woman.

Creban\'s efforts with the pig bear more fruit than the old man\'s. As the stick connects with its dusty flank, it lets out an offended squeal and trots off up the street. \"No, no!\" the old man protests ungratefully. \"I was trying to get her /out/ of town.\"

Creban merrfs at tat and trots ahead to the pig\'s face.He grabs a hold of an ear and tugs sideways, pulling the pig around the other way \"sorry about that!\" he calls to the old man. \"There we go. Maybe a leash would help.\" he chuckles softly, hearing the hobbits\' words.

[Nob(#16122)] Both women stop talking to stare astonished at the hobbit. \"My Best Kettle,\" repeats the first, from between gritted teeth. \"And who\'d go and steal a kettle anyways? And leave /rocks/??\"

The sow is not pleased. First nasty poking, prodding sticks strike her every time she stops for a bite. Now someone - and an unfamiliar someone at that - has grabbed at her ear. With a loud snort she twists round and attempts to sink her sharp teeth into the man\'s leg. Her owner, sadly toothless himself, gapes. \"You git one of \'em?\" he enquires of Creban, far too slow on his legs (and on the uptake) to do anything about it.

Brandebras, meanwhile, finds himself fixed by not one but two pairs of female eyes. \"It wasn\'t me,\" he protests, his own eyes getting a little rounder. \"Don\'t look at me like that!\"

[Creban(#22423)] Dropping his bundle of sticks, Creban manages to avoid the teeth, slapping the sow soundly on the snout \"Stop that!\" he growls a little back and then nods \"On my stick pile there, there\'s two. If you could grab one i\'ll hold her still.\"

[Nob(#16122)] \"I should /hope/ not!\" says one of the women. The other one stares suspiciously down at the hobbit. \"I don\'t know,\" she says. \"You seem awful interested.\" He lifts her eyes and they land on Creban and ignoring the fact that he\'s clearly busy with a pig. \"You! You sir!\"

The old man hobbles over toward the stick pile, and he bends down to lift one, excruciatingly slowly.

\"No, no I\'m not!\" Brandebras protests, his round face growing rosier by the moment. Well, it is an exceptionally hot day. Just to prove he is a Helpful Person, the hobbit trots in front of the old man and grabs a stick. \"Wh- what do I do now?\" he quavers.

The sow, meanwhile, is snorting and tugging, trying to free herself from Creban\'s grip on her ear.

Creban relaxes the grip a little so it didnt hurt, but kept a firm hand on her. he blinks and looks up at the woman \"err, one moment.\" then he calls over to the man \"There\'s a rope bundling it all together. Put a slip knot in it.\" he instructs, then back to the woman \"Sorry, a little busy I suppose... How may I help you ma\'am?\"

[Nob(#16122)] \"That hobbit!\" the lady instructs, pointing an accusing finger at Brandebras. \"Arrest him, if you please! He\'s stolen my kettle!\"

The other lady looks a little worried. \"Now, Molly,\" she says in an appeasing tone. \"You don\'t know he done nothing. He only asked what you lost...\"

The sow is still squirming - if Creban does not retighten his grip he\'s in severe danger of losing her. The old man, perhaps realizing this, limps round to a point from where he can use his stick to thwack at the sow\'s behind.

Brandebras drops the stick with a look of relief, and his nimble fingers are soon busy with the rope. He seems rather distracted in his work, however, and holds it out to Creban wordlessly, his bright button eyes indignant as he protests to the world at large, \"I haven\'t stolen anything!\"

Creban grunts at that and looks at the old man in surprise \"... I thought we were going to be using a rope.\" he notes, letting the sow move... but only forwards \"err, excuse me ma\'am, let me get this pig into its\' proper place.\" he takes the rope quickly from Brandebras\' hand, looping it around her neck and sinching it up \"... If she is smart as she seems, she wont pull too much else she will choke.\" he notes, and lets the sow\'s head go to let her go to the end of the lead.

[Nob(#16122)] Molly bristles, swelling with indignation. \"Why!\" she gasps, shocked. \"You think more of a... a PIG than you do of coming to the aid of a LADY and arresting a Dangerous Criminal!!?\" Her voice throbs with righteous wrath.

\"But Molly...\" says her friend, faint but pursuing. \"You can\'t do that...\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"Dangerous criminal?\" asks Creban, glancing to Brendebras \"I heard the conversation my lady. Please do take a deep breath as I do want to help, but I really doubt this hobbit took it. He\'s not carryign it, and no offense to the sir but well, Hobbits prefer full pots than empty.\" he smiles a little at Brandebras.

Creban\'s assumption about the sow and the rope is a sound one - save for one thing. He has placed rather too much trust in one distracted and absentminded hobbit. As the conversation goes on around her, the sow gathers strength for a sudden tug.

Whoosh! She is free Creban is left holding a straight, unknotted rope in his hands whilst the sow dashes off away from all the pokers and prodded things. At least, now that the man has turned her round, she\'s heading in the direction of the gates.

[Nob(#16122)] \"WELL!\" says Molly. She seems unable to do anything more for a minute, quivering as she is, her face red and mottled. \"I\'ll see /you/,\" she says to Brandebras, \"And YOU!\" she says to Creban, \"In the Guardshouse! Where I\'ll be making out a complaint about the behavior of the guards these days! Disgraceful!\"

[Nob(#16122)] \"But Molly....!\" The other woman gives up. It\'s hopeless.

Creban blinks at Molly and sighs a little, looking to her friend. then after the pig. He waves at the guards and point to the pig so they could intercept and manhandle the pig back down again. Then he looks back to Molly \"sorry to dissapoint you my lady, but I am not a guardsman.\" he picks up his sticks \"However, if you want, Brandebras and I will go and try to find who stole your kettle. \"

The old man, surprisingly, gives Creban a gap-toothed smile. \"That\'s the ticket,\" he pronounces affably then, as the sow dashes through the gates, eluding not one but two sleepy-looking Breeguards, leaving a trail of dust in her wake, he hobbles slowly after, leaving all concerns about stolen pots behind him.

Poor Brandebras. His sweating face is now as red as a cherry. \"But I didn\'t /do/ anything?\" he protests, trembling. \"You\'re can\'t shut me up in- oh.\" As Creban speaks the terror in his face suddenly gives way, replaced by sudden pride. \"You mean a Private Investigation?\" he queries the man.

Creban blinks and looks in confusion after the man, then he looks at Brandebras with a smile \"Something like that. We\'ll see what we can find and if it looks serious, we\'ll get the guards.\" he notes, and then bows to Molly \"If you would lead the way, my lady..

[Nob(#16122)] \"And I\'ll be... you\'re not?\" Molly says in confusion. \"Oh. Well. Oh. Well, you /ought/ to be,\" she tells Creban. \"I mean, I never saw a man who looked more like a guardsman, did I, Hester?\" She turns to her friend for corroboration. \"Didn\'t I ever see a man looking more like one of Bree\'s fine upstanding guards? It wasn\'t no wonder I got a little mistook, and me just that upset about my missing kettle.\" She glares at Brandebras, clearly unconvinced by his protestations of innocence, but doesn\'t resume her demands that he be arrested.

Brandebras quails a moment under the glare, but then he looks back to Creban and his confidence returns. \"You can ask the questions, and I\'ll write things down,\" he offers the man. \"I\'m good at that.\" He begins to fumble in his waistcoat pocket for a quill.

[Creban(#22423)] \"I\'ll need your sharp eyes as well Brandebras.\" Creban straightens \"My Lady, would you show me to your kitchen so we can look?\"

[Nob(#16122)] Hester swallows a smile and assures both hobbit and man that indeed, Creban does look very like, astonishingly like, a Breeguard. And Molly, preening herself once more, sets off importantly towards her home. \"It was this morning,\" she tells Brandebras. \"you\'d better write that down!\"

Brandebras\' fumbling has by now yielded both quill and ink-bottle. Alas, the only piece of parchment he has pulled out looks rather like a shopping list. The hobbit studies it a moment, shrugs and turns it over, breathing rather hard as he trots after the big folk. At Molly\'s instruction he stops, blinks, and kneels down on the ground to pull out the stopper from his ink-bottle and write on the reverse of the shopping list, \'Astonishingly like a Breeguard\'. \"What time of morning?\" he wonders, while he kneels.

Creban walks along as well, about halfway between them. \"After breakfast no doubt.\" he states \"And what did you go to do again and leave it? \"

[Nob(#16122)] \"No,\" Molly says, \"Early. When I got up, first thing, I come out to chop up my p\'tatoes and get them going for the stew, you know, and there it was! Er, I mean, there it wasn\'t. My kettle. Someone stole into my house in the NIGHT and took it!\"

Brandebras finishes stoppering his ink-bottle and straightens, waving his newly written-on parchment to dry it. A furrow has ploughed itself across his homely features. \"You mean-\" he\'s trotting again, and his breathing quickens, \"that the pot went missing the day before and you didn\'t even notice?\" The accusatory question is phrased in a completely innocent voice.

[Nob(#16122)] Molly rolls her eyes. \"No,\" she says again. \"It Went Missing In The Night! I cleaned it out last night, before I went to bed, and in the morning it was gone!\"

Creban hmms \"do you lock your door at night?\" he asks, and offers to hold Brandebras\' paint pot while he walked \" Anyone else in the house?\"

[Nob(#16122)] \"Lock the door?\" Molly looks indignant again. \"And who would I be locking it against?\" she demands. \"My neighbors? Why, I\'ve known Rose and Hester for /years/!\" She flicks a glance at Creban. \"My husband, of course.\"

Brandebras notes Creban\'s gesture toward the ink-bottle, and hands it over with a nod of thanks, unstoppering it as he goes. A single drop of ink splashes over onto the man\'s fingers. He dips the quill in and then stops with it poised in mid-air. \"You lock the door against your husband,\" he repeats, eyeing Molly uncertainly.

Creban bites his tongue a little at that, glancing away to the field as though looking for something. When he turns back, his face was exposed \"I see. So I doubt it was him or your fine neighbors. We\'ll take a look and see if any tracks were left or anything.\"

[Nob(#16122)] Molly sniffs. \"I\'ll thank you to listen, young man,\" she tells Brandbras severely. \"That man asked me if anyone else was in the house and I said, \"My husband was in the house with me, of course, where else would he be?\" She listens, mollified, to Creban, and nods complacently until the man mentions tracks. Whereupon, she says, offended, \"I wash my floors thank you very much!\"

Creban ahhs \"Tracks outside the house perhaps, in the dirt. There would be yours, your husbands\' and perhaps the thieves\'.\" he explains gently.

Creban\'s reasoned, empirical approach is not matched by Brandebras. \"If he was in the house then isn\'t he the prime suspect?\" His round face is screwed up in thought his pen, aside from leaving a short trail of ink-drips along the cobbled roadway, is now busily scrawling: \'List of suspects. Hester. Rose. Husband.\' He now underlines the last.

[Creban(#22423)] \"now now, Brandebras. I doubt that\'s it. Why would he take the kettle after all and leave rocks behind?\" notes Creban, trying hard to keep the situation in semi-control.

[Nob(#16122)] Hester sidles up to whisper something in Molly\'s ear. The first woman looks horrified. \"OH!\" she shrieks, and rushes off, leaving Hester to apologize. \"Just go on,\" she says. \"She... forgot something. It\'s the 2nd house along, just go in and do your.. your dectectiving.\"

Brandebras considers the question, thoughtfully. \"Probably because you can sell a kettle,\" he remarks, doodling a kettle beside his List of Suspects as he goes, \"whereas noone wants to buy rocks.\" Only then does he look up and realize that their chief witness has departed. He stares after her, open-mouthed. Then something strikes him. \"You don\'t think,\" he sidles closer to Creban, \"she stole it herself?\" His tone is puzzled.

Creban raises an eyebrow \"I dont think she did. But why would she? If she wanted to sell it she could do so without having to steal it.\" he notes, ponderously \"It could be just a local prank, or something to confuse her. A messagE?

Brandebras is still puzzled. His brows are scrunched up, and he sucks thoughtfully on the end of his quill. \"But why else would she run off?\" To his list of suspects he adds another name: \'Molly ...\'

\"A message?\" he repeats, blankly, and then his face clears as though light has dawned. \"You mean the rocks spell out something. Maybe we /should/ go and take a look - though it\'s not very polite to go to someone\'s house when they\'re not there.\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"Maybe she left the ketle on the... wait, no.\" he shook his head \"Perhaps one of her children needs help or something. Maybe that. I dont know. We\'ll hve to look. She said we can go in.\" he points out \"

Creban says, \"What have you got written down now?\"

\"Left the kettle on the boil?\" Brandebras supplies the end of the sentence helpfully, twisting his parchment round so that Creban can see.

\'Astonishingly like a Breeguard\'.

A picture of a kettle,

\'Chief suspects.\'

Hester. Rose. Husband. Molly.

Suddenly he pipes up, \"Or maybe she left the kettle with a neighbour!\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"That would make sense, if the kettle wasn\'t stolen.\" remarks Creban. Then he blinks at the list. \"... Very well done. Hmm. Maybe, but I did hear her say she had just cleaned it and put it down. Maybe it was borrowed? But surely rosie would\'ve told her. You know..\" he chuckles \"I remember this one bird... he will steal shiny things to put in his nest. I wonder if our thief is feathered.\"

Brandebras pulls his parchment back. In the act of writing the word \'borrowed\', he pauses, open-mouthed. \"Like- like a magpie, you mean? I know there\'s one nests in that old tree down in the Big Field. Should someone go and climb it?\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"no, not yet. Let\'s look at the house first.\" notes Creban \"Anyways, I dont know of many kettles that can be carried by a magpie.\"

\"Oh.\" Brandebras looks quite crestfallen at that - but then he pales. \"Y-you d-don\'t mean a-an eagle?\" He takes several large gulps of breath to calm himself.

Eventually he mutters, pointing to a door no different from any other, \"Suppose it must be this house. Do you want to go first?\" Now that they\'ve arrived, the young hobbit is not looking in the least enthusiastic about entering Someone Else\'s Property.

Creban peers at Brandebras curiously \"I dont think an eagle. Why would an eagle want a kettle?\" he chcuckles softly \"And eagles aren\'t dangerous unless you try to upset them deliberately.\" he peers down at the house \"let\'s look around first. Around to the back along the fenceline

Brandebras remains quite stubbornly where he is. \"My D-Da saw a gigantic eagle carry of a whole sheep.\" He ducks his curly head. Sheep, hobbit - what\'s the difference? \"I - uh, I think you should go first,\" he offers at last. \"I might tramp on something by mistake.\" Not that in the dry, dusty heat of summer there is anything to tramp on. Whatever else, Molly is clearly an excellent sweeper, for the cobbles bordering her house are spotlessly clean.

Creban slows a little bit and turns to stare out into the field, coming to a stop. He just stared, his face blank, eyes wide and distant. Then he blinks and comes out of it \'what? Oh... right.\" he nods and turns to hop over the fence, still carrying that loosened bundle of sticks as he walks along the fence, looking for footprints at the edge of the property

Brandebras turns to follow Creban, but for a hobbit the crossing is not quite such an easy matter. He tucks his parchment and quill away, and lays both hands to the fence-top to pull himself up - then stops.

From one of the houses across the road comes a ringing shriek. \"There they are! Thieves! Thieves!\" And from somewhere further within the house, a man\'s growl. \"Where are they? I\'ll larn \'em!\"

Creban blinks and looks up in surprise. His eyes widen, then he calls over \"Molly! Its just me and Brandebras! We\'re looking for the kettle thieves remember?\" he shouts over loudly

But of course Molly herself is nowhere to be seen. \"A likely story!\" comes a third cry, the commotion having caused heads to pop out of doors all up and down the street, for all the world like a warren of rabbits popping out of their burrows. \"Oh! Oh! And Molly not here to defend herself!\" The first shouter, a woman, wails and wrings her hands. From behind her a burly, red-faced man barrels out of the door.

Brandebras takes one look and gives a squeak. \"I - ah, I don\'t think we should be here,\" he calls feebly to Creban, and then, without waiting for the other to follow, he takes to his heels and runs off up the street.

Creban blinks a little bit and puts a hand on Brandebra\'s shoulder \"If we run, they\'ll just be certain of this. \" he murmers, t hen calls over \"Calm down! Molly had to run off to get something. She asked us to look into her stolen kettle. I am Creban, who works at the Prancing Pony under Mister Nob. this is Miaster Brandebras. \" he tilts his head \"Sure you\'d recognise me? I am always about the town.

Brandebras has not waited around to be grabbed. By the time Creban is at the fence the hobbit is already pelting away. One of the local dogs, doubtless eager to play, gives chase, and soon the pair have vanished from sight.

The red-faced, burly man steps forward to the fence and folds his arms. \"Now then, Mister Creban. We\'ll be having none of that nonsense here. You come right out of that garden until Molly or her good man get back.\"

Creban dips his head \"Very well then.\" he notes in even, almost formal tones \"I\'ll make sure Molly is here. She sent us on ahead and I only wanted to help. If she comes by, do explain what went on. We\'ll be back later to see if she\'s home.\" he smiles.

\"Hmm.\" The burly man uncrosses his arms, flexes them and folds them the other way. \"We\'ll see about that.\" It\'s a pity young Brandebras did not stay - surely here\'s one more he\'d add to his list of ..ah, \'suspects\'. Meanwhile, from doorsill to doorsill, the gossip-mill is getting into full swing, as half a dozen different versions of events are concocted.

From a couple of doors away, a little boy\'s voice is shouting, \"Rover! Rover, come back here!\" If he\'s unlucky, poor Brandebras will be accused of stealing the dog too.

Creban smiles at the man again pleasantly, then does a quick abrupt turn and stalks off at a quick pace, moving to help rescue Brandebras as well