What
When a tax is placed on ale, the myseterious hobbit known only as the Ale Baron makes his rounds...

Who
Andrea Took (#15025)......herself
Filby Pott (#29680).......Imfer Rumble
Cobber Cotton (#???)......Ale Baron

It is midnight in the Shire, it is a moon lightnight and most hobbits are asleep save the Ale Baron. Yes the Ale Baron. He is out, clad in his black finery, rolling barrles of ale to a small red cart, quietly, discreetly... or so he thinks.

A small, sad, dejected hobbit sits in front of the boarded-up Green Dragon, his head bowed down and his face unable to be seen. Imfer Rumble, pining the loss of the Green Dragon and the ousting of the EBS, sobs quietly to himself, oblivious to what is going on about him.

The Ale Baron hears sobs and stops lookig about then uses his nifty voice "Nyaa aahh ahh... Who be there?" he asks as he rolls another barrel into the cart.

Imfer looks up and scans the village common, looking for the source of the mysterious voice. "Who's there?" he asks, his head turning back and forth wildly. "Whoever you are... you'd best not... *GASP!" The Rumble falls silent as his gaze falls upon that infamous bootlegger, that king of despots... the Ale Baron!

Andrea draws near along the road from the southeast.
Andrea has arrived.

Andrea stumbles up the lane, rubbing her eyes slowly but gently. As she comes closwer to the group of hobbits and notices them, she seems rather suprised to see others about at this hour. She walks more slowly, carefully watching as Imfer falls. "Sweet blazes, are you alright?" she calls out, heading quickly towards the dim form.

The Ale Baron smiles and nods "Yes lad, tis I... the Ale Baron. How may I help you?" he asks bowing and removing his hat befor placing it back on,. he chuckles and waddles towards the hobbit.

The frightened hobbit rises to his feet as the mysterious figure, the crime-king Ale Baron walks toward him. "The..." Imfer stutters, "The Ale Baron?" The Rumble holds his hand to his heart and watches the Baron's movements warily... then he hears and sees Andrea. Inching his way toward the ladyhobbit Imfer mumbles, "I don't know who you are... but I don't know if this is a good place for you... or for me either..."

The mysterious hobbit comes closer. "Don't be afraid for you are not to know me, except that I am the Ale Baron. Good friend, you seem tired. Come get a drink with me, some nice cool ale... and don't worry, I am never caught."

Andrea smiles reasurringly to Imfer, "It's safe enough, with me here." she glances at the other man she notices afterward, "Ale Baron. huh? He said you might be 'round here. He told me to find you, and ask... some questions." She smirks deeply, "What sort of ale's are you selling? Is it pure and quality? Or is it just something you made in your wine cellar?" she taps her foot a moment in thought, " Is it pure, and do you sell it in bottles?"

The Baron looks at Andrea. "Oh, of course, lass, all is pure for I come from a family of brewers. I sell them in anything: jars, bottles, and kegs, and it is free m'dear, for I wish the ale to flow freely."

Andrea frowns deeply, "Who are you? Where are you getting it from, then, that you wish it to flow freely? Are you just some kind hobbit... or are you working for the Mayor to root out those that seek it?" she mutters to herself a moment, "Can I see a bottle of it? I want to be sure that is what he asked for."

The Rumble leans closer to Andrea. "I don't trust him," he whispers, "I've heard of him... the Ale Baron, a mysterious figure who gives ale against the Mayor's wishes... and I hear there's a huge price on his head..."

The Ale Baron hands her a bottle. " I am a freehobbit, a patriot, younger then some and older than others. I would never delude those who love the brew."

Andrea qquickly glances over the bottle to see if there are any mmarkings, then, holding up the bottle to a nearby light, she examines the amber liquid, "It looks sound enough.." she leans back and whispers to the rumble, "I do not know if I trust him, but my brother is visiting, and he wishes a drink... rather impatient about it too." she rolls it over in her hand a final time, "May I keep this, then? Or do I owe you?"

You +whisper to Andrea, "The Rumble looks over to to Andrea, whispering again. "I think we might be able to detain him, if we work together... Perhaps if you grab him and I call for help we could get that reward... I'll try to confuse him."

The Baron hears this "Come now I give you ale and you do this to me?" he steps back watching them "And I should say daring me to be trustworthy..."

Imfer steps forward boldly and looks at the Baron. "(UNINTELIGIBLE SPEECH)?"

Andrea shakes her head, "Not this way, not tonight. The reward may be handsome.. and laws should be followed to their full extent. But this law.. this law is unjust." She sighs in reluctant admitance, "Come, let us not have dark on this business.. Will you at least come into the light, where we can see a face worth trusting? I will not betray you untill the laws have been destroyed." she glances at the bottle, "Though, if my brother did not want this so badly, I doubt my song would be the same. But he is visiting me, and i may have further need of you; so come. At least tell me where i can find you, should I need to see you again?" She watches the figure, head cocked sideways, stroking delicately the bottle of liquor.

Imfer mutters. "All right... looks like it's up to me..." Seeing his attempt at confusion fail the Rumble looks the Baron straight in the eye, trying to stare him down. "So... you say you are a brewer? There aren't many brewers in the Shire, are there... Mister THUDDER?!? Thought you could get away with it, eh Brant?"

Andrea speaks quietly, "He doesn't sound too much like Brant. Besides... I saw him in Tuckborough before I left... Unless he beat me here." She glances over at the Baron again, and a soft swish causes the anmber liquid to crash against the side of the bottle, "Though, he did have a pony with him."

The Baron watches them "Bwahha ahaa you'll never know, now I must be off so good hobbits get ale." With that he escapes with his ale.

As the Baron makes his getaway Imfer springs to action. "Quick! Call a shirriff! It's the Ale... Baron..."

Andrea shakes her head, "T'was not Brant. I swear it." she glances over the bottle again, "I can't see if there's markings in this like..." she turns around at the call for a shirriff and puts a hand gently on Imfer's shoulder, "They'll all be asleep at this time of night.. It's too late, he's goes, into the shadows of night."