================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Tue Jul 20 07:07:11 2004
Bree time: Nighttime 9:21 PM on Hevensday of Autumn - September 21,1432
Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon
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Breelands Weather
The nighttime autumn air is cool but pleasant around you. The sky is clear and the moon shines brightly. The moon is above the horizon and in its waxing crescent phase.

Inside the South Gate
The Great East Road enters and leaves Bree here, through an opening in the high hedge that surrounds Bree. Where the road meets the hedge, a large stone wall has been erected, of well set stones. Under an arch of stones is a wooden door, with two small windows: one high, one low. On the west side of the road, near the door, is the gatekeeper's lodge. On the eastern side of the road stand a few houses. The Great East Road winds its way north, around the western flank of Bree-hill. A light shines out from the gatekeeper's lodge, to help ward off the night's darkness.


A freshening wind has scattered the last of the clouds that have hovered gloomily over Bree for the past week, and stars glitter brilliantly in the clear night sky. A fat mishapen moon rides low on the horizon, cradled in the fading purple of sunset.

A few late travellers hurry through the still opened gate; the gate-keeper himself stands impatiently to close it. And a lad, almost a man for all his smallness, leans against the stones of the wall itself. There is an old bruise turning dirty yellow on his cheek, and the scabs of several cuts and scrapes criss-cross his face - and troubled brown eyes study everyone that passes.


Another strides through the gate: stout and tall like few, but as dirty as the road and as hard as a brute stone. From within the shadows of his hood, which's color can no longer be defined between green, yellow or black, silver bright eyes peer.
Firstly at the gate-keeper, then at the hobbit.
A nod is thus spared, likewise a greeting, "Good eve.".


A passing hobbit darts a nervous glance at the tall stranger and, ducking his head, mumbles something that may be a greeting before scuttling out of sight down the road. Toby's eyes sharpen as they land on the man and he straightens, then relaxes back against the wall. His gaze remains though, intent and determined. "Evening," says the gate-keeper, tugging the gate shut behind the last arrival and securing it for the night. A pool of yellow light spills from an open door nearby; the keeper's lodge, awaiting his return.


As Toby is seen yet another nod comes.
The Ranger halts after this, a couple of feet from the now shut gate, and turns, his gaze switching from man to lad as his question is intoned.
"I heard from a fellow on the road the Pony's out of ale." his gauntleted hand scratches his chin, "D'you know if it is so?".


Toby blinks, a faint tinge of red rising up his face and then receding. Suspicion, wariness and something more.. an odd desire? war in the brown eyes that stare into the shadowy depths of the stranger's hood. "No," he says at last. "T'any rate, they weren't last night." And strangely, he flushes again and his eyes drop to the road.


If the Ranger's frown can't be seen, mayhaps it can be sensed, in the weight of the glance that follow the lad's to the road... he acquiesces then, raising his gaze. "Let's hope it isn't so." he shrugs, "Strange rumour.". Another nod is offered and the man turns again.


Toby's glance slides towards the shut gate and then the turned back of the man. He hesitates, one hand rising almost absently to his waist and then dropping abruptly, and asks, "You one of them rangers?"


The just resumed walk is cut short as the lad's question reaches his ears. Slowly, the Ranger turns to face Toby, his bright stare seeking the young man's ere a faint nod is spared. Though if it is of agreement or just a twitch of sorts, it cannot be said.
"What d'you think, boy?" at any rate, the voice is courteous, even amused.


There is a long pause. "Yer tall enough," Toby replies at last, cautiously. ".. You just get here?" The night is darkening, yet the gate-keeper's door is still open; spilling its square of yellow light over the cobbled street. The boy edges sideways a little, away from the light.


"Aye, I've just arrived." definitly a nod of agreement this time, "You saw when I came in.". He crosses his arms in front of his chest and a couple of steps are taken toward Toby after this.
With only a gesture of his head, the Ranger questions.


Toby backs away and his hand rises to his waist again. "You aint seen..." he fumbles with the words, then changes his question, his voice suddenly hard with distrust and suspicion. "Where've you been?" With a creak, the gate-keeper's door is pulled shut and everything goes dark. The stars seem even brighter overhead, for the lack of light below; and Toby edges another step away from Alarth, his shoulders flat against the still-warm stones of the wall.


The evening grows darker, and the streets near the gate have emptied, more or less. Only a few stragglers have yet to find their way home, or to a Public Room. Among the dwindling pedestrians is a woman; she seems to be heading in the direction of the Pony, but then she notes some movement and noise in the gateway. She turns from her path and approaches, cautiously, ducking to the side and keeping in the shadows while she draws near.


The lad's reaction cause the Ranger to halt fully. And then shrug, as he teeth are briefly revealed, in a grin or a smile. "Nearbie." he replies, not without kindness in his voice, "What does it matter to you, though?".
Stars seem brighter in the darkness... so do the man's eyes. That catch a movement in the shadows nigh. A single hand is raised in greeting to his kinswoman.
No words follow it, tho'.


The answer brings a glower to Toby's face, dimly seen in the darkness. "You been around here," he says flatly, something that might be surpressed fury adding tenseness to his words. "Up top of the hill maybe?" His chin lifts, jerking towards BreeHill, and his fingers clench about the dagger hilt at his waist. Hanneth is not seen; all his attention is focused on the man in front of him.


Hanneth inches closer, hidden now in the shadows, until she is just around the corner from the two in the archway. Her hand rests lightly on the hilt of her sword, but she does not move; she waits and listens, her kinsman's safety guarded in secret.


The Ranger's eyes follow Toby's chin, toward the BreeHill. And as they rest upon the lad once again, the hand's place is acknowledged by a curious glance. "Road." is all he gives as reply, ere using his own chin to point something.
"Your parents let you carry weapons around?".
No other word or gesture is made toward Hanneth.


"Ain't none of their business," Toby replies. His fingers loosen a little in their place. "Live in the stables, an' don't bother them. They don't bother me, neither."


A yielding shrug and the Ranger nods. Followed by an almost sudden question: "How old are you, boy?".


A tall figure looks upon the man and the boy chatting from the shadows of a nearby corner. This is one of those Rangers, a name of ill-repute among the peaceful dwellers of the township of Bree and its surroundings. Henleg is leaning against a wall, with arms and legs crossed comfortably. His grey eyes are upon the talking couple, while his ears are open for any problem that might arise.


"16," Toby says belligerantly. "Why? I'm old enough." For what, he doesn't say. "Been on my own, I c'n take care of myself." His eyes fall before the ranger's, and he shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably, wincing painfully a half-second later. Perhaps the bruises and scratches dimly seen in the dark air tell the tale of a time he couldn't take care of himself?


Hanneth's gaze flicks over for a moment to Henleg, across the way. She smiles, bemusedly, and her hand relaxes its hold on her sword. Alarth is well covered.


If Henleg saw Hanneth's smile or not cannot be told, for the Ranger's face remains impassive. A blade of green grass is on his mouth, but he remains silent and unmoving.


"Don't doubt it, kiddo." the Ranger replies and his nod to Henleg is lost in the gesture of leaning forward slightly, to take a closer look at Toby, at the bruises.
"Tho' where are those from?" he touches his own face.
The worry that never was now has totally disapeared-- he's well covered.


In the second or so that it takes Alarth to ask his question, Toby goes from sort of relaxed to a thin string of vibrating tension. His hand clenches spasmodically on the dagger hilt, and a flood of red... of confusion first, then unhappiness and the cold anger of one betrayed, underlined with resentment, and perhaps a little unwilling admiration... whirls over his face. "I fell," he mutters, dropping his head.


Henleg tenses a bit as the boy's hand goes to his dagger, but still he does not move his hand towards the sword that rests sheathed against his side. His eyes remain focused on the boy and on his kinsman, but he still does not move.


Hanneth's gaze turns toward Toby now, her gray eyes shining from the shadows while she inspects his wounds as best she can.


The lad's reaction is watched carefully by the bright eyes under the shadowy hood. The Ranger's reply, however, is simply a nod so far. It takes some more seconds for the man's lips to crack and speech to come.
"Fell." he echoes, narrowing his eyes to inspect better Toby, "Good you didn't break your nose as you landed on your face."


"It bled a lot," Toby admits, calming a little. "And yeah. I fell." He lifts his free hand to his face, carefully, and gingerly feels along the edges of the bruise. "Them rocks are hard, you'd think they was smoother 'n they are; lots of little poking out bits."


"Sounds painful." the Ranger replies, a kind smile following his nod, "You should watch better where you step.. Were you into the city when you fell?".
Swiftly, his eyes go from the shadows where Hanneth is to Henleg. As they settle down, they're thoughful.


Hanneth makes a face, her expression filled with sympathy for Toby's pain. She manages not to make a sound, however.


"Yeah..." Toby darts a wary upward glance, hesitates, then adds, "Along the road. Towards the Pony."


Henleg's grey eyes glitter in the darkness, but stillhe remains hidden in the shadows. The boy seems to have calmed down, but still he regards him intently.


On silent wings, an owl glides overhead... night time, and time to awake. The light in the nearby gate-keeper's lodge flickers out as the man within blows once on his lamp. The red coal left behind flares up and then dies into blackness.


"I wouldn't have guessed."
After a while and a nod, that's the Ranger's reply, "Everything is dangerous, in it's own way.". His eyes glint, yet both tone and focus indicate that the words were more to himself than to the lad. Barely he notices as the night's shade grow thicker due to another source of light put off.


The situation is well in hand, and so with a nod to her kinsmen, Hanneth slips away again, likely to sleep for the night.


The boy nods slowly. "Yeah," he says again, this time with a bare flicker of a grin. "An' when you don't expect it, too." Another pause, longer this time, and then he blurts out, "You ain't seen Strider nowheres, have you?"


This comment draws brief chuckle from the Ranger, "Well, if you're expecting, you wouldn't have fallen. You would have thrown yourself or something.". In reply to Hanneth's nod comes but a longer blink of eyes ere he shakes his head.
"It's been a while already. Why do you ask?"


"I was," Toby says quietly, almost to himself. "Didn't do no good..." He shakes his head a little, as if to clear water from his ears. "I... been looking for him," he responds at last. Most of the hostility has drained from his posture, though all the wariness remains.


The situation does seem to be under control indeed, and so Henleg departs, feet silently taking the Rangers further into Bree. A shadow he seems, for he makes no soise as he disappears behind a corner.


The Ranger's gauntleted hand comes up to his chin again and he nods ponderingly, as if trying to understand what Toby's first words meant. Whatever conclusion reached, however, it's laid aside for now.
"What's your name, lad? I'll leave word you've been looking for him when I meet him again. And if you feel elightening, perhaps you share what business you might've with him?" a clear line within the hood: again teeth are showing-- the man grins.


Toby glances to the side; no one there. A cautious foot eases along the dusty stones as the boy shifts his weight. "Toby," he says, cautiously. "Only, he don't know it, I don't think. I - I need to talk to him." The words come slowly, almost jerked out against his own will. "Tell 'im... about some birds or - or something."


"Right." the Ranger nods, amusedly, "You want to tell him about 'birds or something'? I will pass your message whenever I have the chance.". Another nod.
"You should go home now, before there's no more light around-- or you will end up falling again.".


A quiet snort. "Huh. I don't think so." Toby snaps his mouth shut abruptly and takes to his heels. The running isn't quite as easy and free as one would expect for a lad his age.. a little more than stiff, a little less than an outright limp... still it doesn't hinder him from vanishing into the darkness.


Arms crossed in front of his chest, the Ranger watches till the lad gets out of sight-- what takes longer than it would take for another men. And in the next moment, he's making his way into the shadows of Bree too.