* The Place

Millers Market
	The center of Buhr Mahrling opens out into a large, open-air market. No
matter what time of day it is, the smell of grains and fruit dominate the
senses. A rim of wooden shops arc around the western edge of the market, the
eastern side dominated by the flow of the river, and a massive water wheel,
that dominates the town. 
	Farmers and growers abound with their goods strapped to the back of
carts, or strewn out on the ground where merchants can make an easy selection.
There is always the constant murmur of merchants haggling with each other, or
bargains being yelled out.
	Above all this, the water wheel keeps turning, grinding grain into
flour, that is then sold in the market place.

* The People

Gumbart

You see a short dwarf with grey, rugged clothes. Gumbart's hair is grey and
long; his beard looks a bit shaggy. Two braids have been waxed and stretch back
to his ears. The piercing black eyes are sunk deep within the wrinkled face. 
Gumbart is wearing travelling clothes: big, strong boots; a coarse, dark coat;
a black hat. 
On his right hand, Gumbart is wearing the only jewelry you can see on him: a
small golden ring.

Baereave

	Large black eyes, slightly tilted at the corners, look out at the world
with an unreadable expression beneath a forelock of thick black hair. The rest
of the raven length has been pulled back into a tight braid and securely looped
around the crown of her head. A few strands have slipped loose to caress the
curves of her high cheeks and the line of her chisled and delicate jaw. Her
smooth skin is a rich olive hue with golden undertones. 
 	A tight leather bodice outlines the graceful curve of her lithe waist
between breast and hip, covering the shirt of deep blue so there is no trailing
cloth to grab. Even the sleeves of the shirt are tightly laced from shoulder to
wrist. The ankles of loose black trousers have been tucked into a pair of low
boots. The leather of bodice and cloth of both shirt and trousers have been
carefuly stitched as if patching rents.

Khelin

(forgot to log his description)

* The Time

Middle-earth time is:
Early Afternoon on Highday, Day 14 of November.

* The Log

Amidst the afternoon crowd, an old dwarf pushes through the mass of people,
shoving them aside if they ignore his impatient patting. He is mumbling to
himself and sending evil glances left and right.

Baereave stands haggling with an old herbwife over her wares. One of the people
shoved aside by the dwarf fetches up against the young woman and she turns, the
black eyes snapping with irritation. She bites back whatever she was going to
say to the one who stumbled into her and returns to the bickering over price.

Gumbart stops at the very same stand, not paying any attention to the other
customers, trying to catch the eyes of the herbwoman. "Aye woman, your tincture
didn't help at all. My wound won't heal; the damn Easterling who shoved his
stupid stick into my face must have poisoned his blade, may he rot in the
dungeons of the Dark One!!" he curses.

<OOC> You say, "You can see that Gumbart has a swollen purple right eye... :)"

Baereave arches a brow and glances down at the stubby figure at her side. Her
dark gaze is calculating for a moment, particularly since the herbalist seems
intent on tending the dwarf first. "You have three choices. Continue trying to
get the price you want from me and let the dwarf wait, agree to my standing
offer, or watch me and my money walk away. How often do you get large bids like
this, instead of women wanting a little something for a sniffle here and
there?"

As the old woman looks undecidedly from Gumbart to Baereave and back, Gumbart
raises his black eye towards her. "See, old woman, it has not improved one
bit," he continues while pointing at his delicate eye. When the old woman turns
back to Baereave again, Gumbart turns around and asks acidly, "I'll be done in
just a second, young woman. Please don't put this frail old lady in distress."
In an afterthought, he adds, "Gumbart, at your service." nodding his head
slightly. He then turns back to the old lady and demands something cooling for
his swollen eye again.

Baereave's mouth takes a bitter twist as she steps back, unwilling to antagonise
the the dwarf since he's at least being passingly polite. Her dark eyes touch
on his eye for a moment and then she leans down as the herbalist mixes
something. "Actually.. it's likely that the blade has been 'poisoned', though
perhaps not as you think."

Surprised, Gumbart looks up. He seems to be fighting himself as his face
changes from curiosity to spite back to curiosity. "Young woman, you seem to
know more than an innocent girl your age should know. So let us hear what you
have heard." he says and adds deliberately, "You might have noticed that I have
more than a passing interest in this cause."

Baereave's slim herb stained hand makes a graceful gesture of denial. "It is
not what I have heard. It is what I recognise and know of the more....
desperately spiteful of my people? It is a common practice amoung the
dishonourable of the warriors to.... " She pauses and her lips press together
in distaste and she flicks an embarassed glance to the herb woman who's stopped
in her task, listening in rivited fascination. "Well, quite bluntly, to urinate
on their blades..."

"Sssssssss!" he hisses. The old hag starts to chuckle. Irritated, Gumbart
swivels around, grinding his teeth. "You seem to know your brethren well,
girl!" he says, fighting for control. "I am sure you have had your share of
urinating!" Then, fixating the old hag, he adds, raising his voice, "And you
have probably urinated all over your herbs as well, haven't you? Or is it that
this is this place's natural stench??"

Baereave's black eyes narrow angrily. "I am no desperate unskilled warrior to
need to do such desperate measures." Her expression cracks as the dwarf
dissolves into what seems to her a near hysterical rant and she laughs. "But
look at it this way... now that you know the likely cause, it can be
effectively treated."

The herb woman nods and pours out the tincture she was mixing. "Aye.. the girl
has it at that. I was thinking it a simple bruise," She manages between her
laughter. "You have her to thank really. A favour she's just done the both of
us."

Wandering around Buhr Mahrling this fine afternoon, the Senior Acolyte spies a
familiar Ereborian face and begins to approach him.

Gumbart's face has darkened considerably. "Just give me one of your evil
tinctures, old woman." he says. "I'm glad we're leaving soon. This place is a
rathole, and it stinks." he mumbles. He waits for the old woman. The old woman
continues mixing her stuff. A grin spreads over her face as she stares at her
grass-crusher. Suddenly she can't hold it back any longer and she bursts out
laughing. "AAAAAHHHHH!!!" cries Gumbart, "Why does this always happen to me? Be
silent, old woman!"

Slowing his approach as he spies comflict, Khelin finally stops next to Gumbart
and looks to him. "What is the problem here?" He looks around in the general
area trying to find any clues of what is happening.

Baereave's face struggles to keep a serious mien and she raps on the counter to
get the woman's attention. "If I may?" The herbalist nods, wiping streamers of
tears from her cheeks. Baer steps around the counter and briskly sets to work
mixing. She looks up startled at the new arrival and gives a delicate cough.
"Perhaps it would be best if our friend here were left to explain as much as he
wished." She goes back to her task.

Gumbart's face turns into a different kind of red. "Hello cousin," he says
trying to cover his nervousness. "T'is nothing, I was having a little
discussion about this black eye of mine here." Gum points at his black eye. It
looks awfull.

Smiling at Gumbart's eye, Khelin shakes his head slightly, "Are ye lookin' ta
dull the pain? High Priest Gander is married ta Master Healer Zora doncha know.
He learns a bit from her and I learn a bit about herbs and such from him." He
smiles bigger, "Maybe I could help ye a bit."

The herbwoman clutches the counter, gasping out wheezing laughter. Baereave's
back is firmly to the pair on the otherside of the stall, slim shoulders
quivering. She turns and sets a salve on the counter. "Well, the problem was
that the herbalist had no real idea what the true nature of the problem was."
She clears her throat though her exprssion stays neuteral. "It shouldn't be too
much of a problem now." She turns again and lifts a small lancet, checking the
tip carefully.

"Heh, hah," says Gumbart to Khelin as he takes the salve. "I wouldn't want to
trouble you, dear cousin. Perhaps the wisdom of yonder young Easterling will
finally cure my eye. It has been days." He gropes in his purse for some change
and puts a ridiculous amount on the counter, shoving it in the old woman's
direction. "Here, old woman, here's for you. Keep the change." he says and
bows. He turns to Khelin and takes his arm, practically dragging him from the
little shop, "Shall we get going?"

Baereave watches the dwarves walk away and then exchanges another look with the
old woman. The sudden gales of laughter drift over the general noise of the
market.

In the distance, you see Gumbart taking his Easterling dagger from its sheath
and examining it with disgusted curiosity.

Chuckling uproariously at Gumbart's remark, Khelin leans over to
Gumbart and whispers quietly in his ear, "Ye would trust an Easterling
over one of yer own kind. Hmmph." Khelin continues to walk with
Gumbart.