================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Wed Jul 21 10:17:59 2004
Bree time: Early Morning 7:53 AM on Sunday of Autumn - September 25,1432
Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon
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Breelands Weather
The early morning autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. The day sky is cloud-filled and gloomy.

Bree Market - South
This section of Bree is known locally as Market South. There are shops lining both sides of the road, selling a variety of wares and services. Here, at the southern end of Bree's Market two roads meet, one from the east and one from the north. The market is decorated with streamers and bunting, in bright primary colours, and there are even more stalls than normal, many with games and prizes to be won, all part of Bree's Autumn Festival. The market is rather noisy and filled with activity, as people buy, sell, trade or simply browse the goods available here. Along with the items for sale, different aromas from the foods being sold blend together to add another dimension to the market.


It's early. Some shops have been open for a while, others are just now unlocking their doors and unshuttering their windows; and not too many folk are about. One lad wanders aimlessly along the street; looking at nothing save his bare feet which move without purpose or direction. He limps yet, though not nearly so much as a few days gone; and the bruise is all but vanished from his face, though scabs from asundry scrapes remain. There is a blank look on his face - one that sometimes betokens deep thought... or can be the last refuge /from/ thought.


There is another lad wandering the streets at this early hour. Elias is wandering from booth to booth, talking easily to different vendors. Noticing Toby's limp, he squints at the other boy and quickly turns to the woman he is chatting with, and starts to gesture exravigently. He holds his belly and looks pathetic, and finally comes away with some apples in his hands. Approaching his friend at last the nearsighted boy says, "Hey, Toby!" And tosses one of the golden apples at the quiet lad.


The call penetrates Toby's abstraction, almost too late. By the time he looks up and around to see who calls, the apple is nearly at his nose. Too slow to knife a ranger he may be, but it doesn't mean the lad has bad reflexes. A hand flashes up and snatches the apple automatically from the air, and then Toby turns it over in his hand, looking at it as if he had no idea what just came hurtling through space towards him. "Hey," he replies, with no discernable enthusiasm in his voice, and takes an absent-minded bite out of the side of the fruit.


Taking a bite out of his own apple with evident relish, Elias falls into step with Toby. "Want to help me make some deliveries? Dunleaf will feed us." Now that he is closer, he takes in the other boy's appearance, "You look better."


Toby shrugs. "Sure." Ambling beside the other boy, his steps now may be embued with both direction and purpose, but there is no apparent energy that comes with that. "Yeah..." he says a little later. "Told you it was just bruises and stuff."


Enjoying his apple, Elias says nothing for a bit, but eventually pipes up with, "You know, I think this is one of my da's apples. So I'm glad I didn' pay for it." After that little non-sequitor, the stout boy turns to his friend and asks, "Are you any good with a cart, after last time I can' take it out without someone who is."


Toby rubs the back of his hand across his mouth, swiping clear sticky juice from his chin. "Good with a cart, how?" There is still nothing of interest in either tone or expression; the boy seems to walk in a fog and reply by rote. Large grey-ish white clouds crowd against each other, all but shutting out the sky - though here and there thin squiggles of blue out-line them.


Ignoring (for the moment) his friend's apathy, Elias clairifies, "Well, I tend to forget things like carts an' key and such. If someone else is wit' me, then Dunleaf thinks they will 'member." He takes another bite. "And it goes /a lot/ faster if we can use the cart."


"Oh." A brief flicker of disdain, contempt, that /he/ should forget anything so trivial as a cart livens his eyes, and then is gone. "Yeah, sure." Another few steps, another bite of the apple. "What're you delivering?"


Elias's eyes go wide. "An entire treasure hoard." He looks around slyly, "Some bodies, and three under cover orcs." He tosses the core behind him. "That's why I need the help, I'm not good at stuff like that."


An unwilling laugh is jerked from his companion. "Right. A treasure hoard. Sure. Where you taking this?" Toby nibbles around the stem end of his apple, brushing against a passing woman without bothering to step aside.


"Ered Luin, so we should get an early start." The stout boy shrugs, a twinkle in his eye. "You can see why I wan' the cart, though." He glances at the woman, "Sorry." he calls after her.


"You got a horse to go with this cart?" Toby asks. "Long ways to walk, pushing a wagon.."


The lady, ruffled, glares at the boy and opens her mouth to snap, but Elias's apology comes in good time. "You might tell your friend to watch where he walks," she says grumpily and continues on.


"Hmm, didn't think about that." Elias considers for a moment. "We could get some hobbits and have 'em do it in when we pass through the Shire." He waves to the pie vendor as they pass the stall, "Hello Missus Greenthyme, I'll be here with some flour in a bit."


Another laugh, this one coming a bit easier. "They're too short," Toby objects. He eyes his apple core, skinned to the bone as it were, frowns and then tosses it aside.


"Wait one minute, I'll get us some more." Elias trots over to Missus Greenthyme's stall. A few quiet words including "onions" and Elias spreading his hands about eight inches apart, then a bit closer. The boy returns with a steaming meat pie, which he promptly tears in half and hands one to Toby. "Your right, hobbits are too small. Maybe we could get the Breeguard to do it. We could tell 'em that it would show us how strong they were."


Toby accepts the pie with no visible sense of obligation, rather as if it is his right to receive anything give - and some things not. "What you need," he says around a mouthful of pastry, "Is a couple of dwarves."


Elias nods thoughtfully, "Are there any around? They are hard workers, and strong." Sniffing at the pie, he wrinkles his nose. "Too much basil," he mutters, then continues in a louder voice, "If we had ta go all the way to the mountains to get some it would miss the point, I think."


Toby shrugs again - still only one shoulder. Less stiff he may be, but still he favors the one arm. "I ain't seen none," he says. "Better find a horse." The market is growing more crowded, and the boys' footsteps are necessarily slowed by the need to go around more and more people. "What are you really delivering?" he asks abruptly.


"Onions and flour, I peeked this morning." Elias shrugs. "Nothin' too fun. I liked the orcs and treasure better." He takes another bite of his half pie. "And were are only delivering around Bree."


Toby nods and swallows. "Where?" he asks economically. Though he still shows no particular enthusiasm for the delivery business, there is a little more life in the idle voice; a little less withdrawal. "Can't spend all day running around, got to feed 'n water the horses later."


A tall man walks down the street, coming behind the two boys. His step is stealthy, as he winds his way through the crowd. A task made easy because many of the Breelanders step out of the Ranger's path, not wanting to be near one of his ilk. Dark looks are given by some, but the Ranger heeds them not. His eyes are on the boys ahead of him, his quick ears straining to catch any of their conversation.


"Mainly just to the vendors, but one to the Pony, too, I think." Elias goes thoughtful, and doesn't notice the man approaching them. "I could help you feed the horses."


Toby nods again. "Right then." He lift his hand toward his face, the pauses to look at it - only a few crumbs and a bit of gravy remain. Licking them off, he looks up, just in time to avoid colliding with a burly carpenter carrying a load of wood across his shoulder.


Henleg advances towards the duo of walking boys, now a few paces behind them. He smoothly avoids the carpenter and his woodload, and then keeps walking. He seems to be minding his own business... although the idle chatter of the boys is not lost to his sharp ears.


"You know, next time someone asks 'bout the bruises, you could just say that you wern' watchin' where you were going." Elias advises, ignoring his own clumbsy history. He pushes his cap up further on his head, revealing his wavy hair.


Toby glances over his shoulder, following the carpenter with his eyes.. which eyes are suddenly no longer absent and uncaring. Instead, there is an unhappy mix of anger, resentment and longing - which abruptly vanish at the sight of the ranger. The boy freezes for an instant between one step and the next, before pulling his attention back to Elias. "Yeah," he says cautiously. And his shoulders are tight and hunched, as if, slowly and stiffly moving along, he expects a blow between the shoulders.


Henleg keeps moving, seeming to be oblivious to the two boys. His eyes go right and left, admiring the wares offered by several vendors, although his ears are always trained of the small-talk of the two youngsters in front of him.


At his friend's sudden reaction, Elias frowns but does not turn around. "What is it, Toby?" he asks softly, his cow-like brown eyes concerned.


"There's another one of 'em back there," Toby says quietly. Perhaps it is soft enough to fool a ranger's ears... perhaps not. The return of tension aggravates his slight limp as well. "Do.. d'ya think he was lying? He didn't say nothing but maybe he stuck this one on me instead, so's I wouldn't know." He keeps walking, winding his way through the crowded marketplace.


The Ranger keeps walking non-chalantly, eyeing the merchandise displayed. If Toby's words were heard by him or not cannot be told, for his face remains impassive to the comment. But he remains behind the two young men.


His lip working its way into his mouth, Elias replies, "No, he wasn' lyin'. I know it." The boy considers for a moment, his teeth working his lip. "Maybe it's just happenstance, you know? They've been popping up like mushrooms lately."


Brown eyes turn towards Elias. "How d'you know he weren't? I din't think so neither but.. he were mad, I could see it." Toby's shoulders work uneasily as if he has suddenly become allergic to the very air. "Mebbe it /is/ true," he goes on. "That they kilt all them birds and stole that kid and stuff. Why else would there be so many around here all of a sudden like? An' just when it's all happening?" He casts a nervous glance around; men, tall and grim though they may be, are one thing - the ability to make birds fall unmarked from the sky is something else altogether.


Henleg half-smiles at the youngster's words, although covers it well from the pair of kids. Although the Ranger doesn't know exactly what they mean, he can guess the meaning of some of what is being said. Still, he gives no other outward sign of his attention to the conversation, as he idly walks. He manages to avoid colliding with a rushing woman with some carrots on her arms, and also a fat merchant that carries potatoes.


Puffing up his lips, Elias blows air abruptly through his nose. "Only one thing ta do then, Toby, sorry, but we'll find out what he wants, if he wants anythin'." The stout boy stops in the middle of the road and turns around. Waving at the cloaked figure he squints and calls out, "Hello, how are you this morning?" with a cheerfull (though a bit forced) grin.


"Hey!" Toby hisses, "Don't do.." But it is too late. Elias has already hailed the ranger who lurks behind them. Slowly, warily, the boy turns around to face Henleg as well. His face bears no grin, forced or not, and he says nothing at all.


The Ranger almost stumbles on the boys, as he appears not to be heeding them at all. "Ah! Errrr, good morning, young man", Henleg greets Elias back. "I am fine, thank you. Looking for some apples, and some other things here. And how fare you?", he adds, his eyes going from Elias to Toby. "I see you're healing well, young man. I'm happy for that", he adds, sincerity in his voice.


Elias points back they way they came, "Mister Rushlight is sellin' apples back the way we came, golden ones." His chest swells with familial pride, "Best apples in Bree, you know." He adds, "If you need to know where to find anything else, just ask, I work 'round here, and so does my friend."


This is the second time in as many days that a ranger has all but run Toby over from behind for following so closely. He takes a step backward, then another just for good measure, and pats at the sheath bearing his dagger - gently, as if he only checks to be sure it is there. "Yeah," he says with a glower. "Was just bruises an' such, told you."


"Indeed", the Ranger replies to Toby, raising an eyebrow. But then he turns to Elias. "Well, thank you for the help. I saw Master Rushlight's apples, but wanted to check if there were others who sold cheaper ones. I also seek carrots, potatoes, and beets. And I know that it's better to look around first to locate the best prices, rather than buying from the first stall you meet", he says, winking at Elias.


"You can' do better then Mister Rushlight's apples. Others are cheaper, but he's got our apples, and we grow 'em good." He scratches his face as he thinks, "For beets and carrots, see Missus Pickthorn, or her daughter, Becky. Mister Tunnelly has some too, they're cheaper, but not as good, he has weevils this year. Taters, hmmm..." He quiets again, then continues, "Jack Whitethorne just got some, but I don' know if they're any good, I haven' had one, 'cause my brother grows 'em."


Toby listens. Says nothing. Now and then his eyes lift to look over Henleg's shoulder and then are pulled strictly back down.. besides the carpenter is all but out of sight.


"Ahhh, you're a well of information, young man!", the Ranger replies to Elias, patting the young man's shoulder. "I shall go to Mr. Rushlight for the apples then. I see you two know your way around the market, huh?", he adds, eyeing them both closely.


A narrow hostile gaze remains on the Ranger, with only one final glance after the now-vanished carpenter. "I live here," Toby says belligerantly. The cloudy sky has darkened some as the morning wears on; there are fewer patches of blue, more threat of rain. But it hasn't damped the enthusiasm of the people of Bree for shopping; the market is filling up moment by moment with chattering pushing people. Few of them stand still amid all this - only Toby and Elias, and Henleg facing them.


"Aye, nothing better than a local to know the surroundings", the Ranger agrees with Toby. "Well, I owe you both for this small service. If there's anything I can do to repay you, I'll happily do it", he adds, smiling at the two boys.


"Aye, happy to help," Elias chirps. "Name's Elias Heatherseed, of the Heatherseed orchards, you know." The boy puts out his hand.


A sideways glance at Elias, and Toby adds ungraciously, "Toby. Work at the Pony."


The Ranger takes Elias' hand and shakes it, pumping it thrice before letting go. "A pleasure to meet you, Elias, and Toby", he says. "If you need help, look for me and I'll be delighted to help", he adds.


"Who should we ask for, Sir?" Elias asks politely.


"Ain't likely," Toby mutters under his breath, then evidently decides on a little directness of his own. "So," he says aggressively. "Did you kill off them birds?" His eyes are challenging.

"Eh? What about the birds? I, for one, haven't killed any birds", the Ranger replies defensively. "I know not what you mean, Toby", he adds. Turning then to Elias, he says, "I'm not known in Bree, for I seldom come here. But if you're looking for me, go to the Pony, or come here to the market, and you shall find me", he adds with a wink.


Elias gives a look of pure exasperation to his friend. "Oh, I'll just ask around for tall, cloaked men then. That shouldn' be too hard." Trying to further distract the man, he continues, "But while you are in the market, you shoul' look for Ruine's stall, she's sellin' lots of stuff, usefull stuff." Elias elaborates vaugely.


"The dead birds," Toby says with offensively exaggerated patience. "The ones that was all laying around the healer's house. An if you didn't do it, how come you're here?" Despite Elias's attempts to calm and distract, the slim lad seems unable to stop pushing.


The foreboding clouds do not hold at bay the visitors to the town of Bree. At least not the small man, who stands out simply because the dark color of the skin. Bujir is his name, from the Kingdom of Erathia in the Far East. He walks across the market place with some confidence, greeting some of the salespeople as he goes along. That is, until his dark eyes catch a glimpse of the tall man and the two other men chatting. He halts for a moment to catch bits and pieces of the conversation.


"Well, people would always be able to tell where I'm at.... but as I told you, I can always be found near the Pony, or here", the Ranger replies. Turning to Toby, he regards the young man silently for a moment. "Well, I did not do it", he replies to him. "And now that you mention it... how do we know it wasn't /you/? For you're here too, same as me", he adds with a shrug.


Elias visibly flinches at Toby's bluntness. "Charms and pies and such..." seeing that his efforts are useless, he lapses in to silence, watching the man.


Bujir's voice comes, his words fluent in the common tongue, yet with a clear accent. "He didn't do it."
The short man steps forward, brushing some of his thick black hair back and exposing a handsome face, marred by a slight scar. "It is something in the air here, I smelled it ever since I entered Bree. Is it not true that Ellis Tumbleburrow fell ill for mysterious reasons only two days ago?" he says, his dark eyes glancing up at the ranger, then at the two boys.


"Me? I can't make birds drop dead out of the sky without'n any mark on 'em," Toby scoffs. He glances sideways at Elias, opens his mouth to say something else and stops, interrupted by a short dark stranger. "Yeah..." he says grudgingly. "How d'you know it weren't him though? Or one of them others? Or..." he scowls darkly at Henleg, "All of 'em in it together? Birds was by the healers, stand to reason it was to make a body sick."


"Ah, pies? Well, maybe if I have some money after I buy what I need...", the Ranger replies to Elias. But he grows silent as the dark stranger talks. Henleg's eyes regard the stranger coldly, and a keeness is now in his eyes which wasn't there a moment ago. "Hail and well met", he says to him, his voice now a bit stiff, while his grey eyes regard the man cooly. His gaze flickers to Toby then. "Well, Toby, I am no magician myself, to make birds fall dead without leaving a mark on them. Maybe, as the gentleman says, it's due to some illness", he adds, although his gaze strays from Toby to the stranger once more.


"And well met to you, good sir," Bujir says, exposing a royal laugh that is bright, merry, and speaks of many a good thing... and yet his smile never reaches his eyes. "I bet you anything that vintner has something to do with it," Bujir says, as he leans in, his voice now closer to a whisper, yet still audible despite the chatting elsewhere on the market. "He is adding some new mixture to his wine, I saw him use it myself, and a puff of purple smoke hung over his house earlier last week. It's in the air, I tell you!" The stranger pulls his cloak tighter about him, glancing up at the dark clouds above with an askant glint in his eyes.


"Toby, I think he's tellin' the truth, you know." Elias puts careful emphasis on the words, and steals a glance at the stranger, "He seems like the other one. He could just be shoppin', they need to eat too." He looks again at small dark man, doubt in his brown eyes. "I think, anyway."


But Toby has already subsided, nodding once to Henleg, before turning a highly dubious face towards the newest arrival. "I don't believe it," he says flatly.


"Well, I have the need to eat and drink just as anyone does", the Ranger agrees with Elias. "And thus I need to shop, for I do not know how to grow most of the stuff that I need, nor have lands to grow anything", he adds, shrugging. His eyes then go to Toby for a brief instant, going then to the stranger. "I agree with you, Toby... I wouldn't go around spreading dark rumors about honest folk like that, sir", he says dryly to the latter. "Specially when the one involved isn't around to defend himself".


The stranger's eyes grow a little wider. "Oh, I am not the only one that saw it. Fredegar from down the street at the vineyards saw it, too. Go ask him if you don't believe me!" Bujir says, placing his hands in his side, indignation to be read in his facial features. "Only sure way to protect yourself is with magical charms, and you are lucky that I happen to be a specialist in that area. Saw a great many of them on my journeys."


"Ain't got no money," Toby says flatly. "And if I did, I wouldn't go wasting it on no silly girl-charms." He puts out an arm to stop Elias. "Don't be listening to 'im, 'Lias." A small bulge in his pocket might put the lie to his claim to have no money; but it is not easily seen, nor very large.


The Ranger scoffs at the stranger, his keen grey eyes now distrustful. "Magic charms, eh? You seem to be a dirty scoundrel and a cheat, mister. Going around apreading false rumor about honest folk, just to sell your wares. What a nerve!", he says, voice bristling with indignation. "And to try to cheat these two young men out of their honestly earned money too! What charms are these, sir? Chicken bones and other left overs of the Pony which you managed to pick up?", he adds, some iron seeping into his voice. Turning to Toby, he nods once to him. "See? These boys here are just too smart to fall for your scheme, mister. I would advise you to leave", he adds, advancing a pace and setting his hand to the pommel of his sword.


Bujir takes a few steps back, his dark eyes glancing up at the ranger with a vivid aversion. Visible under his cloak is a tunic of dark green wool, neatly made with a few buttons that run all the way up to his neck. Undoing the upper two, and leaning over a bit, a white polished stone on a black leather string falls out. "Don't worry," sneers Bujir at the taller man while looking back at Elias, "I am used to deal with criticism... look at Megan. I sold her those magic stones and they saved her life. Besides, I am not selling anything right now, this is my charm and I'm going to keep it. Got it from the elves myself," Bujir boasts.


Looking between the people, Elias looks unsure, but backs up towards his friend and the Ranger. "You sold Megan something that saved her life?" He asks, uncertainly.


Toby turns his scowl back to Henleg and mutters something under his breath. From the sounds of things, it is probably uncomplimentary. "Just don't buy nothing," Toby says again to Elias. "Less'n you wants a bit of gaud fer yer girlfriend." He shrugs one shoulder and scratches at the scabs on his face. "Yer money though."


The Ranger looks at the stranger's "magic" stone, his eyebrows rising and his eyes going round. He then takes a step back... and begins to laugh. Henleg doubles over with laughter, his hands on his thighs to prevent him from falling as laughter shakes his body. "Ahhh, right... from the elves", he says sarcastically, between fits of laughter. "Sure, mister. Elves go around giving magic things to you... sure. Next you'll tell us that a whole hobbit navy will be sailing down the Brandywine, and that you have the perfect spot to see such a thing? Elves do not exist, and all folk know that", he adds, laughing once more. "Come now! Is the business so bad you have to come up with such a fantastic story? Cause elves are not real beings, and all folk know that", he says, as he laughs again. "Oh, I get it! You must be a jester!", he finishes, as his laughter continues.


"Pah!" says Bujir as he watches at Henleg's fit of laughter with disdain. "That's right," says Bujir, confident. "The elves! Now if I may beg your pardon, you had not known about Erathia until you met me, now had you? Just because you do not know about something, does not mean it exists, now does it?" Bujir glances at the kids and shakes his head lightly "Don't let them tell you about things that are not true. Do I look wealthy to any of you? Do I go around spending a lot of money? If I would be really doing unfair business, it would make me rich. And don't forget that I gave my knife to the barber, as a gift. It was made by the very smithies of Erathia, preventing cuts that he used to make in the past."
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. There.


Usually immune to Toby's distain, this time it seems to have an effect. The stout lad nods to his friend and turns back to Bujir. "Don' think you should be spreadin' gossip like that. Or tryin' to sell things that arn' what you say they are." He says reproachfully with a furrowed brow. "You make a bad jester, I'm thinkin'"


"You planning on standing here all day," Toby asks his friend, "Or you going to do that delivering stuff you was telling me about?" Without waiting for an answer, he turns and walks away, ignoring both Henleg and Bujir.


"Wait for me, Toby, we've got flour to deliver!" As he runs after Toby he gives a friendly wave to the Ranger, and nothing at all to the foreigner.