What
Filby, at the Frogmorton healing house for his broken hip, speaks with Dharlon about the D.P.P.

Who
Dharlon Took (#27754)...himself
Filby Pott (#29680).....himself

Chamomile Bed
You lay upon the softest bed imaginable. The feather mattress below you sinks beneath your weight, engulfing you in softness. A large fluffy pillow stuffed with down lies beneath your head, and a cotton comforter covers your body in warmth.

From the bedside, From Out, A hobbit peeps through a window next to Filby's bed. The hobbit is identifible to those who know him as Dharlon Took. He mouhs some silent words to Filby, which seem to be something like "Are you alright?"

"Eh!" calls a loud, cranky voice. "Who's there! What do you want!" Filby turns his head to see Dharlon outside. "Well, don't just sit out there gawking! Get in here if you're going to!"

From the bedside, Dharlon comes in from the street. From the bedside, Dharlon has arrived.

look/out
Healing House
Upon entering the healing house you are met by the pungent smell of herbs. As you look around you see bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling for drying, herbs in pots, and herbs spread out on a countertop.

There are boxes and crates stacked up in a corner, and books are piled up high close to an empty bookcase. On shelves affixed to the walls you see containers, flasks and bottles. Jars of different colored ointments and lotions are nearly ubiquitous here. Among them are also several jars with leeches; big, fat, black leeches.

Some beds are set up in the innermost part of the room, and curtains are hung to shelter them from the activity in the entrance area.
Contents:
Dharlon
Herb Book
Chamomile Bed
Sunflower Bed
Obvious exits:
Out

From the bedside, Dharlon walks in, and moves over to Filby's Bed quickly. He seems a bit shaken by the shouting, but quickly picks up his usual fast speaking manner "Are you alright? I was just down in Michel Delving, and I deciding to check up on certain things, plans for the election, the DPP and the-" he stops for a moment, as if gather his thoughts, but then continues to speak "Er, but to make a long story short, they said at the manor you have some kind of injury!"

Turning his head and looking to the bedside, Filby mumbles, "Oh, it's just you. Yes, I'm just fine... or I will be if I can get a -real- doctor... I can't do with these superstitious healers..." He adjusts his cover. "And all the healers are off in Buckland with their disease... curse my rotten luck..."

The old hobbit looks up at Dharlon. "Ah yes, the D.P.P... Well, I'm sorry, Mister Took, but I'm afraid..." he looks away with a sigh. "I'm afraid... I can't be a part of it any longer... for reasons of my own..."

From the bedside, Dharlon looks very surprised at Filby's comment, practically jumping back "But... But... Your joking, right? Your one of our most important members! The DPP is hardly making it as it is... You can't just... You wouldn't..." His exasperasition is evident, as he stammers out protest after protest to Filby's descion.

"I'm sorry..." Filby sighs. "I really am. It's nothing you've done, I assure you. I have my own reasons." He coughs and clears his throat. "And with my health the way it is, I couldn't be of much help anyway. I'll still make donations, of course, but I can't be an active member any more..."