Logs-Rain

Great East Road
The Great East Road passes through an narrow area of open grass land as it
passe s between the Western Gate and the row of shops and houses that line
the road to the east. A few trees spring up among the grass just north of the
wide road. South of the path a single building stands with a circular well
next to it. Wagons and carts are parked near the well and several folks hurry
to water their horse s from buckets of water drawn from the well. A constable
passes through the door into the building.

Obvious exits:
Headquarters of the BreeGuards leads to Dark Hallway.
West leads to West Gate.
East leads to At the Sign of the Prancing Pony.

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Fri Dec 05 03:26:58 2003
Bree time: Mid Afternoon <about 3 PM> on Trewsday of Autumn - November 16,1430
Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon

Breelands Weather
The mid afternoon autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. The day sky still
dumps copious amounts of rain down upon you.
===============================================================================

Mid-afternoon, and already the light is dimming - the drizzling rain falling
steadily from the grey sky above might have something to do with that.
Passers-by grumble and huddle deeper into their cloaks, and there's only one
pony-cart waiting by the well, both beast and driver looking damp, cold and
miserable.

Old Hugh Bramblefleece must have been passing this way when the rain started so
suddenly, for he's huddled in the door of the constabulary, peering out at
the runnels of water tricking from the roof and mumbling to himself, "Nasty
weather fer these rheumatics ..."

Stepping from inside the Breeguard headquarters comes a figure- not overly
tall, nor overly short, a large woolen jacket pulled over his shoulders and
as he steps into the doorframe (presently coming up nearly beside Hugh) he
pauses, bowing his head and peering out from beneath the curly mopt-top of
wild brown curls. What's this, one of the Tasselberry twins, emerging from
the constulbry? Could it be that he's finally resieved what's coming to him?!
"Terrible weather!" He mutters cheerfully- rubbing his hands together as he
looks out into the rain.

"Aye, that it is," Hugh answers without turning, instead shuffling sideways so
that he can let the unseen person out. Only then does he realize just who
he's speaking to ... his brown eyes widen, and he reaches for his staff
(which had been leaning against the outer wall, with the result that it's now
wet and slippery) before he demands indignantly, "And just what were /you/
doin' in there, young man? Somehow I don't think ye were reportin' a crime
..."

The young man doesn't move from the doorway but merely stands looking out,
hands burried deep inside his pockets now, as if he could stand and wait
until the rain had cleared. A flick of his own brown eyes as Hugh reaches out
to take up his cane, and he almost takes a half step back as if afraid of
being hit- a mischevious look on his face. "What does it matter to you that I
was in there? A man can go about his day without having to answer questions
from nosy old men like yourself, surely. It's certainly no buisness of yours
what I was doing in there." He's trying to sound as if he really didn't want
to talk about it- as if he were embaressed and angry at being "harassed" for
whatever eppisode had caused him to be in there... but, a light in his eyes
may just give away his game..

Old Hugh grunts as he surveys the boy. "I see. More'n likely you've been up to
no good, I'll warrant. I'll have to ask old Ernie about that ..." The words
trail off, and despite the 'threat' he doesn't step inside to demand what the
twin had been up to - perhaps 'old Ernie' isn't on duty today? Or perhaps
Hugh's not on such good terms with the Constabulary as he'd like to claim.

Whatever the truth, he stares moodily out into the rain, and grumbles,
"Wretched weather. When I was a lad, autumns were drier. Expect ye'll be in a
rush to get home, eh?"

The Tasselberry fellow reaches up to brush away some of that mop-top which is
all but falling into his eyes now. "Actually- if yeh must know, I was
visitin' an old friend. As 'e turned out 'e wasn't 'ere; probably better for
'im- get t' stay inside wit' his fireplace and what-not.." A pause, and a
glance again out into the rain, then a dismissive shrug. Obviously he was in
no rush to get home, or was enjoying their little chat. Whatever the reason,
he made no move to leave in any great hurry. "Well, no- if I 'ead 'ome now
what's there t' do cept sit 'round 'n sleep 'n bake when all th' action's out
here, an' Mam is 'ome now so it aint no fun bein' there anyways."

"All what action?" Hugh asks, snorting. By now the cart-driver has watered his
pony and filled a few more buckets of water for good measure before heaving
them up onto the back of the cart . You'd think he'd not bother on a day as
wet as this. Splish, splash ... water slops over the as the pony jerks into
action.

Old Hugh draws back further into the doorway, somewhat like a tortoise
retreating into its shell, and sends a sour glance towards the twin. "I hope yer
mam has bin keeping ye in order," he adds, cryptically.

"'s more action out 'ere than sittin' at 'ome I'm certain.." The Tasselberry is
distracted a moment by the cart- the pony, the water, he even glances around
as if he would find something to throw after the pony- to spook it and cause
some kind of damage- be it spilling water or tipping the cart- either way the
outcome would be fantastic..

He manages to resist all this however, and is nearly stood on by Hugh as he
backs further into the HQ. "Mam? She's bin doin' plenty o' things, though she
don't give all that much care for Jacob or me.." Ah ha! The identity
revealed! "Let us go out an' do what we want most times..." a shrug.

"Hrmmph." Hugh snorts again, and mutters, "A firm hand is what youngsters need.
That's what I say." Then focussing on the twin - Adrian - he states sternly,
"Jist ye mind ye don't go gettin' inta any trouble when her back's turned.
Else ye might end up back in there," he jerks his head towards the interior
of the constabulary, "and not jist ta visit. There's some folks'd be less
forgivin' than old Hugh Bramblefleece. Speakin' of which - are ye goin' ta
say sorry for knockin' me down the other day?" He turns suddenly, staff in
hand, and by coincidence or design it seems that the stick raised in his
shaking hand is now blocking the doorway.

Adrian shrugs- attention drifting elsewhere. "Oh? Trouble- 'o course not. Th'
only trouble I seem t' get inter is when folks like yerself misunderstand me.
Think I'm doin' stuff t' make trouble, but it aint my fault most-times, and
everyone overlooks them little folks- they are always makin' trouble and
blamin' it on me!" A pause, a look of confusion, and Adrian seems to start
for the door- apparently blocked by the cane. "I already did, Mr.
Bramblefleece, back on the field- not moments after it all 'appened."

"Can't say I heard ye," Hugh complains, not drawing the staff back just yet,
though his old arm is wobbling and could probably be brushed aside with ease
by a strong lad. He still eyes the twin expectantly.

Adrian's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Well, Jake was talkin' at th' time- and I
mean it no offence to you, Mr. Bramblefleece but I'm sure yer hearin' and yer
memory aint what it used t' be.." Adrian's voice is as thick and sweet as
honey- apparently he's managed to finally start using Megan's gift, though,
of course it doesn't work as well when he uses it- he can't batt his
eyelashes and play cute when in trouble.

"Nothin' wrong with my memory!" Hugh sounds outraged, and such is his
exasperation that he actually takes a step back - with the result that he
almost overbalances and has to grab at the doorframe for support with his
free hand. It does mean he's no longer blocking it ...

"It's just me joints as are a bit stiff," he maintains fiercely, still glaring
at Adrian from his new position. "Well, lad, if ye say yer sorry now I'll say
no more about it, eh?"

Adrian looks the man up and down, then gives him a frown. "I don't know why I
should 'ave ter say it again! I already said it once! An' after all, it
wasn't even my fault, 'twas just an accident an' all, and here you go
demandin' that I appologise again, when I already did, t' something that
wasn't my fault anyway- 'twas just a misplaced kick!" A scowl, and Adrian
moves to go forward, preparing to push the cane out of the way- should it
come to that.

Hugh doesn't budge his feet, but he /does/ need the cane to lean on, and so
lean he does, breathing heavily. Adrian will likely have no trouble squeezing
past now that the cane's not across the doorway. "Sounds ter me," the old man
remarks slowly, "like yer not really sorry at all." And he glares - but that
could also be partly because he's getting wetter by the moment, for a gusty
wind has arisen to send a spray of rain in his direction.

Adrian now slips past, pointing in the direction of the Prancing Pony. "See
that there- me brother's waitin' for me, and here's you tryin' t' make me
appologise for a second time... Sounds like I'm not really sorry acause
you're accusin' me of havin' not appologised 's why I should like that!
Sounds like you don't want t' accept my appology, as you should!" Adrian
steps into the rain, casting a final (mischevious) frown in Hugh's direction.
"Jacob's awaitin', I'd best be off. Good day t' yer."

Hugh grumbles under his breath as Adrian slips past, and doesn't call a 'good
day' in return. Instead he mutters indignantly to the air (because there's
noone else in sight, the pony and cart have long since rolled on their way),
"Nothin' but trouble, those Tasselberry lads! Some day ..." But what he'll do
some day is never revealed, for at that moment a sudden stream of water drips
from the gutter of the constabulary above to land fair and square on his
head. The old man scowls at the sky, then turns away from the departing twin
and huddles back into the doorway to await the end of the rain.