Logs-A Bloody Sack

Stone Houses
At the base of the Bree Hill, about a hundred stone houses line the small and
winding road that clings to the lower reaches of the hill. Red brick chimneys
are built alongside of each house and several of these chimneys spew forth
smoke. A handful of skinny trees grow between some of the houses. Light
filters out of several of the windows of the houses that line the street. The
light casts enough illumination among the night time shadows to allow folks
to walk.

The sky is clear and the moon shines brightly. The before dawn summer air is
very hot and dry around you. The moon is above the horizon and in its waning
gibbous phase.

Obvious exits:
East leads to Garden.
Stone House leads to Foyer.
Lorekeeper Residence leads to Lorekeeper Residence.
Common House leads to The Common House of Bree, Common Room.
West leads to GER: Centre of Bree.

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Thu Feb 19 01:49:30 2004
Bree time: Before Dawn <4:28 AM> on Sterday of Summer - June 25,1431
Moon Phase: Waning Gibbous Moon
===============================================================================

The rose pink of a summer dawn graces the eastern sky, tinting rooftops and
cobbles alike a delicate shade. The air is still cool, but doubtless that
haze on the horizon means it will be another hot day. In time ... for now
it's early enough that most folk are peacefully slumbering in their beds, no
more than dreaming of the day ahead.

One figure, however, is up and about. The hunched shape of old Hugh
Bramblefleece, staff clutched firmly in hand, can be seen hobbling up and
down in front of one of the houses, inspecting a new-sown lawn where tiny
green shoots push eagerly up through the dirt. "Comin' on not too bad," he
mutters to himself, nodding.

Another person is up, apparently- perhaps she's taken a fancy to watching the
sunrise, for she sits now upon the wall outside her house, rhythmically
tapping the heels of her feet against the wall..As the voice comes from up
the wall- and possibly it is a voice /much/ too familiar to her ears, Megan's
attention is drawn there, and slender brows are raised momentarily. From the
wall she slides and lands on bare feet and then- carefully (for she doesn't
want to end up with stones in her soles) she picks her way toward Hugh and
his lawn.. "Mornin', Mr. Bramblefleece.. lawn growin' back, is it?"

Standing next to Megan, leaning against the wall is Andrick. He is
bleary-eyed, and would clearly much rather still be in bed. He too, notices
Hugh, and lets out a small grown, but nevertheless follows after his wife to
greet him. "Mornin', Mr. Bramblefleece." He says, echoing Megan, "S'not
comin' on too shabby is it? Did yer ever do owt to Thistlewool to get 'im
back or 'owt?" He asks, with a wink.

Hugh turns slowly, leaning on his staff. "My, yer up bright and early," is his
greeting to Megan. "Best time o' the day, this is." He nods for emphasis, and
as he glances past her to the bleary Andrick he lets out a 'hmmph' of breath
in unvoiced comment. "Mornin' ta ye both - aye, the lawn's recoverin', and
not before time too! Ye know, that Mister Thistlewool /still/ hasn't sent an
apology. Somethin' not right there." He glowers at his lawn, and then turns
that glower on Andrick, bushy brows bristling. "What do ye mean, 'do owt'?
Yer not suggestin' I'd do anythin' below the belt, so ta speak?"

It seems another person, though not a native to the towne of Bree, is awoken
and attracted to the residential district so early. Garbed in his usual array
of alien fashion, but also carrying a small sealed sack, the sell-sword
Saevern walks westward through this area. His pace is moderate, but he seems
to be very aware of his surroundings - constantly looking to his sides, and
behind as well. As he approaches his old entourage of 'friends,' he slows
considerably, perhaps hoping (in vain, no doubt) not to be noticed.

"I couldn't sleep too good," Megan answers simply, with a shrug- now tiptoeing
over to inspect the lawn. "Well he probably en't sorry.. 's why he en't sent
any appology.. y'think he would have done it if he intended to be sorry?!"
she asks, eyes fixed momentarily now at Hugh.. though, perhaps it is movement
or a sensation that causes her to become on edge, but as Saevern approaches,
she /does/ notice him indeed, and instantly becomes rigid.. "Look out.. here
comes trouble.." she mumbles under her breath, so only those in immediate
area could hear...

Andrick shakes his head at Hugh, and says, "Nah, nowt below the belt or 'owt
like that. Jus', y'know, 'return the favour', as it were, y'know? Jus' pay
'im in kind." He shrugs, and winks, but his expression quickly turns to one
of exasperation and dismay as Megan points out Saevern's arrival. He turns to
look at the man, briefly, and then quickly turns to look back at Megan and
Hugh. "What say yer we nip inside, Mr. Bramblefleece?" He asks, in hushed
tones.

Megan's circumspect warning produces a rather less circumspect response. "What?
Where?" exclaims Hugh at the top of his voice, glancing suspiciously round
over his shoulder. As his peering gaze falls on Saevern he clears his throat
and shuffles a few steps back until he's level with Andrick. It's noticeable
that the hand clutching the staff is trembling a bit.

At Andrick's suggestion he shakes his head. "Rest o' the family's still
sleepin' - 'sides, I'm not having that lunatic feller disturbin' Lucy an' the
childer. We could, eh, nip round the back here. Maybe he ain't headed this
way."

Saevern's position continues to encroach that of his clique of local friends,
though he seems to continue to attempt to remain a low key. He bows his head,
though occasionally darts his dull eyes to look over the three natives,
clutching his bag quite tightly now. As he comes within closer view, the bag
becomes more visible, and it appears to be stained with some sort of red
liquid.

Closer to Andrick moves Megan- perhaps for comfort and security... Something in
her look toward Hugh suggests that, if he doesn't want to run for cover, she
certainly does, even if that means abandoning him there in the middle of the
road with no one else around except the man with ther ed-stained bag... Oh,
how reassuring.. "Oh, he's headin' this way, Mr. Bramblfleece..And he's got
somethin' with him..." she mutters- afraid to raise her voice; eyes regarding
him suspiciously, and yet.. it looks as though she's about to change her
attitude again and become brave.. but, she'll wait to see how this plays out
first, and see whether pretend-bravery is required..

Andrick reaches for Megan's hand, to give it a reassuring squeeze, and to
prevent his own nervous trembling. Is one man really worthy of this much
fear? Apparently so... Andrick glances at the bag he carries, and nods at it,
then looks at Hugh, and whispers, I reckon we ought to see if we can't get
inside, 'oo knows what 'e's got in that bag..." He straightens up, and
breathes in deeply, and turns to face Saevern straight, attempting to put on
a brave face.

Who said Hugh doesn't want to run? The old man gives a shudder at the sight of
the red-stained sack. "Not sure I want ta know what's in that there bag. Ye
don't think it's- it's leakin' blood, do ye?" he asks with a nervous quaver
in his voice, then, imagination running wild, "He's not done away with some
poor feller?"

Suddenly his weathered features seem a tad paler, and he mutters nervously to
his companions, "Eh, mebbe now ain't the best time ta ask 'im ta leave.
Better waitin' till there's a few more folk around ta back us up. Lucy's
Walther is over in Staddle today, left afore the sun came up." He casts a
worried glance back at the closed curtains of his suddenly not-so-safe house
behind him, and the hand holding the staff shakes a bit more. But Andrick's
not turned tail yet ... male pride demands he hold his ground, and for the
moment he does.

The ruffianly fellow continues his sly walk past his group of friends, not
saying a word or making a single movement to suggest hostility or ridicule.
But suddenly, his pace begins to accelerate rapidly, and his heads turns to
gaze upon the trio that watches him in fear. He comes to a halt and turns
towards them, suddenly flinging his bloodstained bag in their direction. A
horrible, malicious grin now on his face he begins to laugh a nasally chortle.

"Blood? Well, maybe... But I don't reckon it's a person's blood, at least..."
Megan replies quietly, though she doesn't sound exactly sure of herself..
Perhaps she's seen enough human blood as a healer-to-be already to know the
difference between human blood and otherwise... Almost she relaxes as the
ruffian doesn't seem to show any signs of hostility, but then- he accelerates
and eyes widen as the bag is flung in their direction. "Look out!!!" She
calls, and then makes to.. run away? Bare feet seem to slow her escape
considerably, though perhaps she has avoided being hit by the bag..

Andrick looks dubiously at Saevern, and begins to follow after Megan, once
more. However, he jumps back as the bag is thrown, in order to dodge it. He
stares at the parcel, and at Saevern, and says, attempting to sound
confident, "'Ere! 'Oo d'yer think yer are to be chuckin' round sacks o'
rubbish like that? Wha's in there any'ow? Why're yer carryin' that round with
yer, eh?" His nervousness expresses itself through the torrent of questions.

Alas, Hugh's age-slowed reactions are less swift than Megan's or Andrick's. As
the pair of them dodge out of the way, the red-stained bag smacks Hugh full
in the chest, knocking him off his feet and leaving a rather nasty-looking
smear on his clean shirt. A moment later the old man is lying on his back
amidst the green shoots of his new lawn, twitching and mumbling, "Get it off
me! Get it off me!," in no state to join in Andrick's interrogation of
Saevern. Eventually he manages to roll over, sending the dreaded bag
skittering towards Megan's bare feet instead.

Saevern simply stands there, watching the three Breelanders as they are
bombarded with his kind gift, all the while cackling a cruel laugh. He
completely ignores Andrick's inquisition, choosing instead to slowly continue
his now well-paced walk towards the central hub of Bree, away from his three
friends and their new sack of goods.

Too wrapped up in retreat, watching Hugh get knocked down (and having to deal
with feelings of genuine concern) and sending icy looks in Savern's direction
as he makes his exit, Megan fails to see the bag coming toward her feet and
so, as she steps on it (and begins to fall (she certainly seems to be hvaing
trouble keeping her feet these days!) she lets out a scream- one of disgust,
for now of course, her feet are covered in blood and, she's on her way toward
the ground- hands outstretched and ready for impact, though this certainly
looks like a fall that could end up with bleeding and bruised knees...

Andrick turns and stares at Hugh, writing beneath the sack, and then watches
as he successfully removes the offending article from himself, only to pass
it on to poor Megan. As she trips, and falls, Andrick jumps inneffectively
toward Megan in a valiant, but ultimately useless, effort to stop her from
falling. It is all he can do to watch as she falls, and he winces
sympathetically as she does.

Hugh seems more traumatized than injured, for he's shuddering as he staggers
back to his feet, staring down in horror at his own chest. "Blood ..." he
mumbles, features contorted in revulsion.

Now he looks to the bag that Megan's squelching. "I ain't touchin' that thing!
Not if ye paid me," he proclaims loudly - and then the horror is replaced by
sympathy. "Eh, that looks like a nasty tumble, Mrs Tasselberry-Thatcher. How
about ye come in an' have a nice cup of tea, an' ye can clean yerself up a
bit ... an' then after Mr Thatcher has disposed of yon ..object.." he
grimaces again, "he can come an' join us." Without waiting to see how his
companions respond to that helpful suggestion, he turns and starts to hobble
back towards his front door.

Landing heavily on hands and knees, Megan pauses a moment where she is, before
she sits herself up and pokes at her knee- like a child poking at it's knee
after a fall (for, were she just a tad smaller, she could well pass as a
newly-injured child).. "Ow.." she frowns; brows furrowed in attempt to /not/
burst into tears... Hands are grazed and red, and so she shakes her head at
Hugh's offer.. "I don't reckon... I mean, I think I'd rather go home
myself..well, not to your house.. I just... Help me up.." she stutters the
last to Andrick- holding her arms out to him- perhaps waiting to be picked up
rather than just pulled to her feet.. Hugh, meanwhile, has already hobbled
away and is offered no more farewell than a declination of the invitation.