Real time: Thu Sep 09 22:04:33 2004
Bree time: Nighttime 11:13 PM on Hevensday of Winter - February 23,1433
Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous Moon
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Breelands Weather
The nighttime winter air is cold and dry around you. Heavy snows fall down from
the nighttime sky. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing gibbous
phase.
Stables
Stall after stall lines the walls of this small outbuilding on the south side
of the Prancing Pony, confirming that this building indeed serves as a stable.
Heavy solid wood, practical though not beautiful, makes up the construction of
the beams and gates that keep the beasts securely locked inside. A low wooden
trough runs through each of the stalls so as to provide fresh water at all
times, and bales of hay rest in the corner of each stall. Two large windows at
the back of the stables lie propped open with a chunk of wood, affording fresh
air to the animals as well as their owners and the stable hobbit who cares for
the place. The doors currently stand wide open, though a heavy iron bolt can be
seen from the inside, making it fairly evident that the stable can be protected
from things on the outside if necessary.
Beauty spreads itself like a cloak over the sleeping town; fat heavy flake
after fat heavy flake drifts down from a white sky turning the simple stodgy
village into an elfin paradise, though few be awake to admire it.
The stables at the Inn are shut up tight against the cold, and inside all is
dark and quiet. Or mostly. A few horses doze in their stalls, and rhythmic
snoring attests to at least one person who does the same. In his loft, Toby
lies sprawled across the hay, his face wearing a peacefulness only found in
sleep. It is not he who so musically enlivens the darkness.
Outside the stable, a scrunching, the unique sound of a boot heel grinding down
fresh snow. Further scrunching, as the door is pulled open, and a hunched
figure is framed by the flickering light of the lantern glowing in the kitchen
window.
Toby turns over, disturbed in his sleep, but not enough to waken; though one
dark liquid-eye horse head thrusts itself over the half-door of a stall to look at
the weak pool of light cast by the distant lantern - and the one who stands in
it.
The door is pulled shut, slowly. A voice calls out, softly, "Toby are you
here?" There is a quiet "thump", and the sound of fabric on wood.
The snoring falters, there is a rustling of straw and cloth, and then resumes
full-force.
Words, a voice, his name... blearily Toby lifts his head and grunts. "Nnh."
There is another rustling of cloth, and a solid hollow, "thump". A clatter, and
a muffled yelp. The voice repeats, "Toby?"
A hoof stamps restlessly in the darkness.
"Yeah... whaddya want?" Toby leans his head over the edge of the loft. "D'ya
gotta be so loud?" he continues grumpily.
"Sorry. It's Elias." he says, "I found the lantern." the lad adds, weakly.
Hay makes a peculiar whispering sound when it is pushed across itself... "Ain't
no lantern." Toby's feet hang over the edge, then the rest of his body is down
the ladder and beside the other boy. With a wary unseen glance towards the
undimished snores, he hisses, "Shh! Come on out here, you'll wake 'im up." He
pulls the door open again, stepping out into the snowfall and shivering.
Elias follows into the snow, the white just turning to wet on the outside of
his cloak being joined by more snow. He stands there for a moment, not saying
anything to his friend. Just looking down.
It is strangely light for nearly midnight. The flat white sky and the feeble
lantern brighten the small courtyard. Toby jerks his head, already
snow-frosted, towards a lean-to at the back of the stableyard. "Over here," he
says curtly. "'Lias... what's going on? Thorn said you was needing help only he
didn't say why."
Elias slowly walks towards the lean-to. "I..." The lad shakes his head, and
starts again, voice whisper soft. "I saw... someone die."
Inside, it is dark again, black really and lumpy and smelling of dried wood and
leaves. So Toby's face cannot be seen. Only his voice, quiet and
matter-of-fact, disturbs the quiet. "So've I. Saw 'im dead anyhow, and Tath,
she done it. That all?" A little while later he adds, clumsily, "It ain't
pretty never, dead folks..."
There is a violent rustling, "I killed him, Toby. Well, he killed himself, but
because of what I showed him." There is a thump, the sound of a piece of wood
hitting packed earth.
"You...what?!?" Toby's voice nearly squeaks, his vocal cords tightening in
shocked surprise, then relaxing to normal. "If'n he kilt himself, it wasn't you
what done it."
(OOC) You say, "good grief. Toby as comforter... he is sublimely unequal to
this task. ;p"
(OOC) Elias grins
(OOC) You say, "he's thinking, 'yeah, so, what's your problem? people die all
the time." ;)"
Elias is silent for a while, then in a quiet monotone, "He tried to kill me,
an' then stopped, an' killed himself instead." Another thump, "If I hadn'
showed him the house, he wouldn' know that Ducky was dead." Again, thump. "If I
hadn' tol' him the story, he wouldn' know that there was a house to see."
Toby is shaking his head, though none could tell except they could see in the
dark or hear the brush of his head against the air. "Wait," he says at last.
"Stop... who done what? Someone tried to /kill/ you? Here in Bree??"
"He swung a sword at me. In Archet. He was gonna hurt a girl, but I distracted
him." Elias's voice cracks, "An' he hit me instead, an' he was gonna do it
again."
"So why'd he quit?" Toby asks curiously.
"I don' know." Elias confesses, "He had his sword there," a rustle of fabric,
"but he didn' push it in."
"Huh. You was lucky. I dunno that nobody never tried to kill me except hitting
me on the head. Maybe he thought I was dead." Again there was silence, filled
by the hissing of falling snow. "So how's this your fault?"
Elias sighs, and a slight note of exasperation slips into his self-pitying
tones, "By bringing him to the house, I made him remember, which made him, you
know, touched." The boy pauses, "Well, more touched." He amends.
"So some crazy guy remembers something and goes crazier? If'n he was that bad
off, prolly he's happier being dead so you done him a favor." There is a small
edge of exasperation to Toby's voice as well. "Who was it, anyhow?"
There is silence for a moment, "Aien, the old man who was around the last
couple of months. With Ducky." Elias answers slowly.
"Oh him? Talked to 'imself all the time an' said it was a duck?" Wood scrapes
against wood and Toby's voice comes from a point much lower next. "He was
already so out of his head you couldn't have done nothing to make it worse. How
come you was hanging around with him anyhow?"
"Well, he just kept coming around, an'..." The boy's voice trails off. "Well,
he just..." Elias tries again, "He wasn' that bad." He finishes, weakly.
"Nh." It is noncommital, this grunt. "So you was being nice to 'im, like
always." Unspoken words war in the darkness between them and, in the end,
remain unspoken. "That all?" Toby asks. "Why'd Thorn say you needed help fer
that?
(OOC) Alas, we both crashed and couldn't finish this scene.