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Logs-A Wet Evening in the Common Room Common
Room Obvious exits: ==================================
Bree Time ================================== Breelands
Weather The common room of the Pony is full tonight, with everyone relaxing after a days work and taking advantage of the warm atmosphere to escape the pouring rain outside. Sitting in the corner close to the fireplace is the little hobbit Alfise, hands wrapped tightly around a mug. Stepping in from the rain outside- sending a scowl in the direction she had come (perhaps cursing the weather for not sticking to something more summery, as it is supposed to) is a girl- brown curls lay ragged about her shoulders- flattened down by the downpour outside. Brown eyes dance over those assembled in the room- delighted and excited and full of mischief. Brushing water off her shoulders (for all the good it does), Megan steps forward and grabs a hold of a waiter and from him orders 'a drink'.. Perhaps she wants to be surprised..? Sitting alone at a table directly in front of the fireplace accompanied by 'a drink' is a man who is not from Bree. Some men at neighboring tables give him sidelong glances and there is the occasional mutter about queer folk that live beyond the walls of the town. he doesn't seem to take note, really. He seems relaxed in his chair, leaning back in it slightly, but something about him seems to give the impression of a tightened spring, ready should... something happen. His eyes watch the room, and he seems merely curious, for, though his mouth is hidden in a beard, his eyes seems to smile a bit. Already Megan's attention has begun to wander- from waiting patiently for her drink, to inspecting the strangers (and strange-folk) that have gathered there today... Bright brown eyes fall on each of the patrons momentarily until- there she spies a foreigner, and already curiosity registers on her freckled face. More, and then more again as she regards him and- looking back once for the waiter meant to be bringing her drink (perhaps he's having a hard time deciding exactly what to get her..?), she moves forward confidently (And evidently in a rather good and friendly mood) she pipes a cheerful; "Hello!" The large man nods amiably and says, "Indeed. Well met. I'v not had such a warm welcome from everyone in this town." He sizes his greeter up, then nods again and pushes back a chair for her, "Care for a seat?" His speech and movements are all a bit slow and careful. A wary pause- perhaps awaiting some kind of critizism of her town.. None comes, however, and in response Megan shrugs dismissively. "We en't all trustin' of strangers.. especially with them goin' around threatenin' Breefolk in all kinds of-- why, thank you!" she exclaims, now sitting before regarding him carefully again- one eyebrow raising at the slow and careful movements. She takes a breath to ask something, changes her mind (and this can be told by the slight pause before she continues) and asks something different; "So, where are you from, that you en't from Bree?" The man nods, "As they shouldn't be. The world is not a very safe place these days, but there are those that do their part." After his cryptic response he says, "I grew up in the woods... What can I call you, if you don't mind my asking?"
Megan nods enthusiastically, and finally the waiter arrives; glass of
milk in hand. "Thankyou," the Breegirl says- waving her hand
in dismissal. At the milk, she looks rather disappointing- perhaps she'd
been expecting something a tad more exciting.. "Hm. Yes, well, there's
them that are threatnin' too, like I said.. and the Breeguard don't do
antyhin' about it, much, if that's what you mean..." A pause as she
sets her milk down and looks him over again.. After all, who grows up
/in/ the woods? "Oh! Megan Tasselberry-... Yes, what's your name?"
"Bear?" Megan questions; puzzlement arising briefly on her face,
and then acceptance. "Bear it is, then...Trouble? Oh, yes, plenty
of trouble here.. There's a man who's lurkin' about... and well, first
he threatens Mr. Bramblefleece with death and all terrible things- and
Mr. Bramblefleece he's an old man, and he don't rightly know what's goin'
on- but I know! And then he takes some money off've my husband for helpin'
him stand up... and then he approaches me and says /I/ owe him money,
and if I don't give him money then there'll be trouble 'round my house.." As Brochim drinks, Megan too reaches toward her milk and takes a sip, before, at his question she nods her head quickly. "They en't doin' anythin'.. It's right here, and he's stalkin' around threatenin' old men and all... and they just sit back and smoke their pipes.. my Andrick and Mr. Bramblelfeece thought to get together a small group to go tell him what-for, but they aint, yet..." Brochim drums on the table and thinks on this. "I think they should, then," he says finally. "What's this man look like, so I can keep an eye out for him? He have a name?" Megan bites her lip, then again nods her head. "I know, but I don't reckon they will.." she says, sighing lightly.. Before squinting her eyes as if trying to remember how he looked.."He's tall, and he aint from Bree.. and he has dark hair, and funny-coloured eyes.. and oh! He had a bandage on froman injury a while ago, on his arm.. and oh! he has armour, and an axe... but I don't know his name..." Brochim frowns and nods, "I'll keep an eye out, then. I don't have much and I'd hate to have it taken, you know? I hear there's to be a festival soon and was hoping to maybe get some work helping set things up, you know? Big strong man like myself might be useful when putting up pavillions. You think that stranger would make folk too wary to hire me on?" Megan looks rather grateful. "I know, though I don't think he'd threaten you- you en't a Breefolk after all.." Megan pauses again- sipping at her milk; slowly the glass is draining, and then- delight passes over her face. "Oh! Yes- a dance! And you'd be welcome to come help! I'm organisin' a lot of it after all, and I certainly know that you en't the stranger threatenin' folk! But you have to dance, too!" She says; now smiling him a dazzling smile. Brochim smiles enough to show his teeth and blushes a bit, "I dance as well as, well, a bear and I really wouldn't want to hurt anyone or break things..." By his tone of voice he doesn't sound optimistic for the sturdiness of his excuses, "I guess it's fortunate I met you, though... I know who to come to when things start happening." And indeed, Megan's eyes roll skyward (or roofward in this situation) and another sigh escapes her lips. "Well we'll have to teach you on the day then! Aint nobody goin' to get hurt! It's happenin' on the big field so there's plenty of space, and anyway, you'll look silly if you're just standin' there..." another dazzling smile- sweet and (hopefully) irresistable.. "I suppose it is fortunate! But Mr. Bramblefleece's daughter will be workin' on it too, and almost all the cooks know about it- so if you can't find me, or need me for somethin' you can ask them where I am or what's happenin'.." The big stranger nods and says, "Thank you. I'll keep an eye out for that, too, then." He takes another pull from his drink, thinking again, then wipes the trace foam from his beard, movements still carefully measured. "Is there an occasion, or just the summer?" "Well, it were goin' to be a Spring dance.." Megan explains- holding her glass of milk in her hand- eyes moving from the liquid and then back up to the ranger.."But by the time we'd thought of it and started plannin' it out.. well, it's summer now, so I guess it's goin' to be a summer dance.. It were all about the flowers and all, but that aint so relevent any more..." After a short, thoughtful pause, Bear responds, "Such is the nature of time, I suppose. It just keeps... going. But who could think of a good reason not to have a celebration for something like the seasons. Despite the number I've seen, they're still a wonder to me." Megan scrunches up her nose in slight disagreement as she considers this.. "Well, I don't reckon they're all good. I like spring and autumn the most. Summers are hot, and winters are cold and wet- though the now is fun... But we aint had too many celebrations recently- I thought it were about time we had one, anyway." The door opens, and in walks a man in a thick woollen jacket, designed to keep out cold more than rain, and so it is sodden. Andrick is hooded, but easily identifiable by the coat itself. He looks around, and then walks over to the fire, and pulls out a chair at the table of Megan and Brochim, sitting in it quite unceremoniously. He finally draws back his hood, and undoes the toggles on his coat. "Evenin'." He says, simply, to Brochim, then looks at Megan, and gives a loud, exaggerated sigh of tiredness. Brochim smiles, but must disagree, "Ah, but in winter you can find a good hill and look across the right valley and the snow makes everything smooth and seamless. And in the rain the woods smell so... earthy. A good fire and ood company will keep the worst of cold and wet at bay, I think." He glances around and says, "Maybe things are different with more people about." To Andrick he says, "So it is. Well met." His tone is friendly enough, if he is a stranger, and his slight smile reaches his eyes. "I suppose," Megan gives in, falling momentarily into thoughtful silence. "But it's still cold, and difficult to get from place to place in the rain and--" she is cut off as Andrick enters and sits himself down there, and to him she turns to look- one eyebrow raising at his sigh. "What's the matter?!" she asks- though unsure of whether there is a matter at all, though it seems the appropriate thing to say.. "Aye," Andrick says, "What's special 'bout ev'rythin' green bein' covered in snow? An' 'avin' to melt ev'rythin' afore yer can so much as 'ave a drink?" He shakes his head and then looks again at Megan, and holds up his hands, red and chapped, by way of indication. "I 'ope them Rangers me Dad's got're 'ard workers, else we'll never get these shelters done. We're only jus' finishin' gettin' the wood down to the field." Brochim raises an eyebrow at mention of Rangers and work. "Shelters for the dance, then?" he asks simply. He glances at Megan, but as long as no one's doing any introductions... Eyes widen in surprise and concern as Andrick reveals his hands, and she reaches out to take them- looking them over, then shaking her head and tutting.. "You're silly to have worked yourself this hard!" she scolds, shaking her head.. "Well Mr. Bear here has offered to help too, you know..." she says- motioning to Brochim.. perhaps it is the glance sent to her that jogs her memory, but finally she sits up straight- "Oh! Mr. Bear, this is Andrick Thatcher... Andrick, Mr. Bear, and so-on." Andrick grins, and says, "Aye, well, it's me Dad. Y'know, 'e don't think I'm good fer nowt, so I've got to show 'im otherwise." He looks then at Mr. Bear, and says, "That right? Well, we'll be startin' up again at dawn tomorrow, so, yer'll be there an' see if yer can find Carrick Thatcher, if yer want to 'elp." He then nods politely at the introduction. "Look forward to workin' with yer, I s'pose." Brochim offers a hand, almost, then takes it back, glancing at the Breeman's own. "No 'mister', there. Just Bear is fine. So you're 'my Andrick'?" he says appraising the other man. Then, shrugging, he adds, "I came into town and thought I might get some work. The festival seemed a good place a man like me might be of use. Carrick Thatcher, then." "I'm goin' to have a stern word with your da one of these days, just you watch." Megan says firmly; still holding one of Andrick's hands in her own as if that would fix it all. "I'll come around tomorrow if you want me to help.. " she offers, looking across briefly of Brochim.. "Well we'll welcome your help, won't we dear? We're puttin' up huts for shelter and all!" Andrick glances at Brochim's hand, with an eyebrow raised, then grins, and says, "No, I ain't yer Andrick. But Andrick I am." He then smiles at Megan, and says, "Thanks Meg. Maybe 'e'll listen to a new face. An' no-one could say no ta yer an' not regret it." He laughs, and nods, "Aye, I'm sure we would. At the moment we're cartin' wood round the bottom of Bree'ill from away to Archet, so, if yer go there yer most likely to find us. An' when we're done cartin' it down, 'opefully afore lunch tomorrow, we'll start puttin' up the frames, which should last the rest of the week, at least." Megan nods to Andrick, "I know, and if he does think to fight me.. like you said, he'll regret it," she says, winking to him.. "Oh, but he aint /mine/ really.. 's just somethin' I say you know..." a pause now as he meantions Saevern and the trouble he's causing, and she turns to Andrick to explain; "I were tellin' him about that man what threatened you and Mr. Bramblfleece that time.. I aint seen him about in a little while, but I'm certain he's still around somewhere...Mr. Bear's goin' to keep an eye out for him too, since the Breeguard aint doin' anythin'.. perhaps he'll join that group you were goin' to make to frighten him off..." "Do yer know," says Andrick, "What with all the business fer the dance I'd almost forgot 'im." He then looks at Bear, and says, "Aye, well, we're tryin' to get together a band of folk what could stand up to 'im, an' tell 'im where to go. We'd get together a band o' big fellers what can look after 'emselves then go to 'im an' tell 'im to go. An' if 'e don't then we'll make 'im, if yer follow." Brochim nods, "I follow and I think it's a good plan, if the Guard won't do its job. I can't say as how effective I'd be, being a stranger myself. And if he's thrown out of Bree with my face in the group and he happens on me when I'm alone at home... well. I'll think on it." he glances about the room, "Let's say sleep on it. Thank you, Megan, for the company." He nods cordially to her and then stands. To Andrick he says, "Nice meeting you. I'll be seeing you." He nods to each one last time, then heads for a wing of rooms. "I en't forgot about him.. I keep expectin' him to jump out at me from the darkness whenever I'm goin anywhere.." Megan says- fear apparent in her voice (and not fear just put on for the purposes of sounding fearful).. "Oh, well that's understandable, Mr. Bear.. this en't your town after all, and it aint your duty to be protectin' it...Oh! Well, Good night to you, Mr. Bear... I'll see you around sometime, I expect!" Andrick says, "I'm sure we'd much appreciate yer 'elp," as Brochim gets up, and then nods, and says, somewhat amiably (for Andrick), "G'night. See yer tomorrow, I 'ope." He then looks at Megan again, and says, "S'good to 'ave another 'ead an' set o' 'ands on our side, on both counts." He reaches out to take Megan's hand in his own, and gives it a reassuring squeeze, and says, "It'll all be alright, yer'll see." Tarla bustles out carrying a last drink to serve as her shift finishes. With a glance at the door she plops herself down at the table next to Andrick and Megan. "I do hope you've had a good night Ser and Ma'am" She says as a passing comment A smile- one of haughtiness and bravery is sent to Andrick at his last comment. "I know it will! I en't afraid!" Megan says, lifting her chin defiantly... "I fought my brothers plenty of times and all... and I en't afraid about not bein' able to make up the shelters.. I--" cut off again as a new figure approaches, the Breegirl smiles polietly in response. "It hasn't been the best of nights, though there's nothin' to complain about.. it's just rainin'.." Sitting on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed and staring out the window, sits Rook. He looks out, watching droplets of rain drip down the window. He follows the drops with his eyes, watching them start from the top and then dribble down to the bottom, almost like they are disappearing from sight as they hit the bottom. He sighs briefly, before turning around to notice Megan making idle chit-chat with the waitress who is now sitting at the table with her and her husband, Andrick. He looks past them to the fireplace and contemplaits walking over to say hello. He shifts uneasily in his seat and stands, brushing some crumbs off of his clothing. He heads towards the group, a smile on his face. Andrick looks up from his conversation with Megan, as Rook approaches, and a pensive expression comes over his face, and he asks, "Farrell in't it? I know yer face, or were it Baker? I ain't too good with names yer see." He shakes his head, then looks about for a waiter, and manages to accost a tall rather tall hobbit, and says, "Well, 'ow 'bout a bottle o' Mr. Butterbur's Staddle vintage?" he looks at Rook and Megan, "I'm in a good mood tonight, s'on me, what d'yer say?" Up glances Megan, and then her eyes are rolled once (and only very slightly) as she notices Rook coming in their direction. Then, taking a deep breath, she finds her most polite and friendly-looking expression and plants this on her face. "Evenin', Mr. Farrell.. I--Oh! Wine! How fun!" she beams to Andrick, squeezing his hand (though not too much- aware still of the damages done from working..).. "Imagine it- some day soon they'll be askin' for our wines and payin' for it and all!" Rook grins at the thought of a free treat. "That would be swell. Oh, and it's Farrell." He nods his head and starts to pull out a chair to sit on. He brushes it, as if removing dirt off of it, despite the chair being obviously clean. He sits down and pulls the chair in a little before picking up a spoon sitting on the table. He starts tapping his hand with it whilst he continues to speak. "I've seen better weather... Why can't it be sunny all the time?" Rook stares outside once again, and realises that it is night-time... so the notion of 'sunny' isn't really possible right now... He stares at the spoon and taps his hand a few more times with is, before looking up at the couple. He grins. "I've never had that sort of wine... is it good?" He licks his lips, hoping that it is tasty. Andrick nods, to the waiter, who goes out. He then leans back, and nods at Rook, saying, "Aye, it were Mr. Butterbur's best when I were 'ere. S'only one wine I tasted better." He winks at Megan, then goes on, to Megan, "Aye, an' it'll beat Mr. Butterbur's Staddle, even. An' folk all round Eri'dor'll be comin' to 'ere to get a 'old of it. You'll see Mr. Farrell." He says, nodding solemnly to Rook. Eyes glance briefly to the window and beyond, and one eyebrow is raised. "Because, if it were rainy all th' time, all the rivers and things would dry up and we'd have nothin' to drink, and all the crops and vineyards would dry up and die, and all the sheep and animals would die because they'd not have water neither... That's why." she answers- rather sarcastically.. well, ask a stupid question..."It will, and even them in the Shire will be sellin' it during their wine festival I reckon, just you watch! Rook grins. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I apoligise for even thinking about a world without rain and only sunshine. It was foolish of me to dream." He stares at Megan and does a teasing glare in her direction. He continues tapping the spoon and he accidentally drops it, making a clattering noise. He closes his eyes as the noise would most likely attract attention from others in the area. He opens one, and looks at Andrick. He opens the other and lets out a nervous grin. "Oops..." He looks around, waiting for the wine to get to the table... The waiter comes back, with a bottle and three tankards, and says, "Sorry Mr. Thatcher sir, s'all we 'ad; clumsy folk keep droppin' most of the glasses, and Mr. Butterbur ain't got round to getting new ones just yet." He glares over the top of the table at Rook, for a moment, suspiciously, then leaves, depositing the cups and bottle on the edge. Andrick takes the uncorked bottle, and pours the wine, and pushes a cup over to Rook, and hands Megan one. He raises his own mug, and says, "To the dance, and to a 'appier Bree." He grins, and looks bemusedly at Megan after her sarcastic outburst, then shakes his head, regarding Rook closely. "Oh no, dream away Mr. Farrell. I never critisized you of dreaming, it is just illogical that we would live in a world without rain, for without rain, there cannot be life...Nor the fine wine that we are about to enjoy!" Megan says- now recieving her cup from Andrick and mouthing him a silent 'thank-you'. "To the dance, and Bree and all that," she repeats, raising her mug too... Rook raises his glass. "To a happier Bree..." He stops for a moment and has a thought... Bree isn't happy? Rook thought it was... but then, it can always be happier. He looks outside, and it seems to have gotten darker. He sighs, sculls the glass of wine and shakes his head, as if getting rid of the cobwebs in his head. "Excuse me, I really should be going. Thankyou for the wine, but you two should enjoy the rest." Rook stands up and bows. "Have a good night, I shall speak with you on another occasion." He pushes his chair in and smiles. "I will go home and... continue my illogical dreams." He winks at Megan and heads outside, almost a skip in his step. He keeps walking until he is out of sight. Megan
blinks in surprise and brief puzzelment at Andrick's question as she too Tarla
takes the Glass offered to her by the waiter. "Thankyou Ser."
She nods at The
rain's showing no signs of letting up - and now the door opens to let
in
Andrick sighs, and looks at Megan with a knowing grin. He then looks back
at As
Hugh moves towards them Tarla stands up. "Tarla." She nodds
towards Hugh as Apparently
Megan not only isn't in the mood for socialisation with Rook, but And
Hugh's quite enthusiastically ready to launch into speech. "Evening,
Mrs
Andrick closes his eyes for a moment, then looks up, brightly, and says, Tarla
stands up to let Hugh take her seat and pulls a new one up for herself Tarla
says, "You brew your own wine?" Tarla directed the question
at Andrick Hugh
seems to be considering Andrick's offer - but then he shakes his head, Tarla
glances at Hugh, "Tarla Pinegrove" She gingerly takes his hand.
From Hugh
nods at Tarla pleasantly enough, but Andrick's reassurances don't seem
to "Really?
That sounds simple enough to make it. So how do ya make it any good?"
Andrick positively bristles with an intelligent air, as he goes on explaining The
wind gave an extra blow and a shutter on the other side of the building "He's
Mr. Wine-Expert now, Ms. Tarla, and he'll talk your ears off if you give Hugh
glances up at the sound of the swinging shutter. "Eh, me, not the
weather "Be
careful out there ma'am, would you like a coat as so you don't catch ya
Andrick laughs at Megan, and says, "I'll be along in a bit; I'll
bring the Tarla
looks around at the three, "Is there a dance?" Although she
works in the "Ay..
yes. A summer dance," Megan informs, as she starts to take her leave..And "Oh,
certainly." Hugh's happy to put on the knowledgeable air for Tarla, Tarla
smiles after Megan, "A summer dance?" she mutters to herself.
"Don't
Andrick nods at Tarla, and says, "Aye, miss, well, we could always
use more Hugh
nods eagerly at both Andrick and Tarla. "Lucy's always keen fer help.
The "Truely
i don't mind where i help" Tarla looks down at her hands. "A
small
Andrick nods at Tarla, and says, "I reckon yer ought to see if yer
can find Hugh
glances up as Andrick moves to leave, calls a hasty, "Goodnight,"
after Feeling
slightly uncomfortable left with the man the the other too so openly "He
does?" Hugh rises to his feet and looks down at Tarla hopefully.
"Aye, ye "I
sharn't be here to much longer tonight, but farwell for now" Tarla
calls
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