Logs-Grocery Shopping.

Bree Market - South
This section of Bree is known locally as Market South. There are shops lining
both sides of the road, selling a variety of wares and services. Here, at the
southern end of Bree's Market two roads meet, one from the east and one from
the north. The market is rather noisy and filled with activity, as people
buy, sell, trade or simply browse the goods available here. Along with the
items for sale, different aromas from the foods being sold blend together to
add another dimension to the market.

Contents:
Pipeweed Stall
Food Cart

Obvious exits:
Alleyway leads to Large Field.
Sewing Shoppe leads to Sewing Shoppe.
Bakery leads to The Bakery.
East leads to Bree Market - East.
North leads to Bree Market - North.

==================== Bree Time ======================
Real time: Wed Jan 14 01:42:32 2004
Bree time: Late Morning <about 10 AM> on Highday of Spring - March 9,1431
Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon

Breelands Weather
The late morning spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The sky is clear
and the sunlight shines brightly.
==================================================

You enter a market stand.

Food Cart
The stall seems smaller than it looked from outside. Feeling a bit squashed,
you look around at the colourful array of foodstuffs. (Stall Help for help.)

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

It is late morning, and the Bree market is bustling. The spring sunshine is
out, the birds are singing and everything seems to be getting warm and merry
again after the bleak and gloomy months of winter! Everyone it seems has
turned out to do their morning shopping- perhaps preparing for the evening
meal, or they've just come to have a chat and gossip before going about their
business again (as Breefolk are renound for doing).
Thus! The food Cart is rather cramped and hot, though- it nearing lunch
time, and people having begun to clear off, the crowd is not as dense as it
was half an hour or so ago. So there, browsing happily is Megan
Tasselberry-Thatcher, new blue dress on, spring-flowers in her hair, looking
rather caught up in the whole mood of the morning as she now looks over the
things on offer...

Hobbling along, and leaning heavily on his staff, comes old Hugh Bramblefleece.
The old man seems to have recovered from his 'poisoning', for he looks to be
in the peak of health, a smile on his seamed face as he pauses to speak to
another oldster over by the bakery. Then he's off again, his destination the
vegetable stall. He mumbles to himself as he walks: "Now, what was it Lucy
wanted again? Taters, yes that was it. Taters an' a loaf of bread ..."

Megan's hand snakes out to take up a squash and she regards it quizzically- as
if having never seen a squash before... A thoughtful "Hmmmm.." grumbles from
the back of her throat, before she sets the squash down again with a polite
smile to the stall owner- who is watching her with a frown. After all, she's
handling all his food, and has yet to actually /purchase/ anything... "Some
carrots and taters and.. What?" it seems as though noise from behind- the
noise of mumbling, in fact, as caused her mind to wander- for she certainly
doesn't look like she intended to meantion potatoes.

"Taters, yes ..." The mumbling is coming closer - a moment later Hugh has
halted right behind Megan (not much room to move in the cramped confines of
the stall), staff thumping against wood as he does. "Why, good mornin', Mrs
Tasselberry Thatcher. Are ye lookin' fer summat fer yer tea?" He eyes the
vegetables with interest, moving closer.

A moment later his hand is reaching out to lift a tomato for inspection.

You ask to see the tomato. The stall-keeper holds out a large ripe tomato. A
small green stem protudes from the top of the deep red, flawlessly smooth
orb. A delicious addition to salads.

Brows are furrowed in concern- mental distress, even. "No, not taters... I
wanted.. Oh.. I can't even remember now." Megan says- reaching out to pick up
that squash again, now turning as Hugh appears behind her. A half-smile- one
not quite as energetic as it should be is sent in his direction. "G'mornin',
Mr. Bramblefleece.. feeling better, I hope?.. Well, I was.. that is, I think
I was.. I'm hopin' my Andrick hasn't already thought of somethin' for us- he
does that sometimes... but.." and now she looks quizzically at the squash
again- as if wondering how it came into her hand.

The old fellow is full enough of his own self-importance not to pick up on
Megan's bemused expression, though he does at least answer her question,
looking a bit shamefaced. "Eh, well, 'twasn't as bad as it seemed, thank ye
fer askin'. After a good night's sleep I was as right as rain the next day."
He adds, defiantly, "But I still think there was somethin' wrong with 'em
cakes!"

Pausing in his conversation, Hugh sniffs at the tomato. "Smells good," he
remarks, holding it up to eye level and turning it this way and that. "An' it
looks nice an' ripe - how much are yer tomaters?" This last is directed to
the stall-keeper, who's by now frowning at Hugh just as he did at Megan
earlier.

"That's good to hear, then... there weren't nothin' wrong with them... and if'n
there were, you can take it up with the bakery- 'twas straight from there
that I got them." Megan replies rather distractedly, perhaps bored with this
story by now- after all, it would be much funnier if the old man was busy
complaining about spiders in his mouth than cakes that obviously weren't
poisoned.
Megan sets down the squash with a frown, before watching Hugh go about
inspecting the tomatoes, bright eyes glancing between stall-owner and Hugh;
waiting for interesting reactions, perhaps... The stall-keeper nods his head
once to Hugh's question, in the direction of the tomato; "One copper, for
them..."

The stall-keeper's response doesn't register fully with Hugh at first.
"A copper for the pound?" he surmises, nodding - then stops in mid-nod. "Wait -
ye mean a copper fer just /one/ tomater? That's outrageous!" With a glare he
puts the offending tomato back. "I mean, how difficult can it be ter grow a
tomater?" Considering winter's barely over, and any fresh vegetables must
have been grown under glass by Staddle's best gardeners, the old man might
seem to be a tad unreasonable ... but he ploughs on, regardless. "S'pose
ye'll be tellin' me that squash there is ten coppers? Hope yer not goin' ta
be fleeced there, Mrs Tasselberry-Thatcher."
Still shaking his head, he looks to Megan for a response.

Megan takes a half-step back as Hugh explodes- successfully pushing everyone
who is milling therein out of the stall or closer to each other (for some
young couples, this certainly doesn't seem to be the /worst/ thing that could
happen to them...). "Not that steep, sir.. what with winter bein' just over,
and all these vegetables here've been grown under glass by Staddle's best
gardeners! Them squashes are one copper each, also, m'am..." the stall-Keeper
explains, looking over the objects in his stall with a nod.
"Oh... No, well, I didn't want to exactly.. Oh! I think I see Andrick out
there.. yes, there he is for sure.. best be off, Mr. Thistlewool.. no!
Bramblefleece! So sorry! Gosh, it is hot in here, isn't it!?" And she has now
managed to back her way out of the stall, finally offering a tiny smile, a
wave, and then disappearing off into the crowd. (Of course, if Hugh looked,
he wouldn't be able to see Andrick anywhere, just Megan's curly-head bobbing
off and away...)

Hugh hears out the stall-keeper, and is forced to concede, "Well, a copper fer
a squash don't seem to bad, it's bigger than a tomater. What do you think,
Mrs-" But Megan is already making her flustered exit. "Goodbye, Mrs
Tasselberry-Thatcher," he calls into the air, failing to spot her in the ebb
and flow of the crowd.
"Think the lady forgot her squash, maybe you should take it for her," the
stallkeeper suggests to Hugh - anything for a sale.
"And the old man is caught. "Well ... maybe ..." he mumbles, fumbling for his
purse. "Anyway, what I really wanted here was taters ..." Business goes on.