A long draught of hot milk and a bit of hot apple pie, along with a nice relaxing smoke is enough to wake Toldo up a little, and he turns to face the room. "Well" he sighs slowly, to everyone and to no-one in particular, "It's a little quieter here than it was a couple of nights ago, but not nearly so interesting. Did everyone hear about the goings on t'other night?" He is holding his tankard in one hand, and his pipe in the other, taking liberal amounts of the contents of each.


Randel inclines a ear in Toldo's direction, and shuffles nearer. "Aye! You mean about Widow Taterfield's cat?" she calls back.


"That's old news, and the cat's fine!" another hobbit says scornfully.


"Widow Taterfield's cat?" Toldo says with contempt, "You think...Ah, ma'am I was talkin about Miss Foxglove's family comin to town. Her Old Man said as she was a thief, stripped him bare while he slept, and took all his money, his woodsman's tools and all, and made off in the night without so much as leaving a note. She set fire to his woodstock as she left as well I've heard say. And you're worried about a cat?" He shakes his head, "Some people..." he mutters. He takes more milk and smoke.


"And Miss Foxglove is getting married!" squeals a small brunette seated not too far from Toldo. Tanna's eyes widen as she leans forward into her seat, her gaze fixed upon the hobbit. "I still can't believe it. Miss Foxglove of all people..." A mug of tea sits before the healer, and her hands grip around the cup anxiously as she takes a drink. It seems the events of a night past are still in her mind, and her attention returns to the tea, though her expression is distant and one of deep thought.


Doriana bustles quickly out of the door and returns within moments. She serves all the food within minutes and then begins filling up drinks. "Oh yer tea!" She says suddenly looking at the woman she just gave the bread and cheese to. Rushing out the door again she returns with a glass of tea and places it gently on the table in front of the woman. "Sorry bout that. If yer needin anythin' else lemme know." And with a cheerful smile she continues on her way.

Hearing the hobbit hint at some gossip, Doriana makes her way towards him "Somethin' happen here? Wha's the news, I haven' heard anythin' yet." Her eyes are wide and she stands with the pitcher still in her hand, idly filling tankards as the requests come up. Her attention on the hobbit, she spills a little ale as he states the events. A gasp follows as she mops it up with a towel, but her eyes remain focused on Toldo. "Ya don' say! Fire's so dangerous..." Her attention then turns to the news of a marriage "A weddin? Really?! How wonderfil." Her tone is one of pure delight as she begins filling tankards again.


"Malorie?" gasps Randel. "Malorie thief? Getting married?" She glances from Toldo to the petite healer her mouth agape. "B-but to whom?"


The Stranger having remained nigh the fireplace for quite some time, unmoving, it might be assumed that he ignores the rumours circulating about Bree, yet again. But in time Tolion meanders away from the hearth, finding a table at some distance from the gossiping Breefolk. Seating himself in a leisurely fashion, he produces a long stemmed pipe and begins packing the bowl, his gaze roving slowly about the room.


"That Mr. Blackroot," is the swift reply that Tanna gives, and she gives it proudly with her chin up as if she were holding onto an amazing secret that everyone wanted to hear, from /her/ especially. And then her eyes turn into thin slits as she flicks them upon the waitress, mouth twisting into something of a frown. "And I don't see how it can be wonderful. I bet that woman forced him to marry her. I don't think anyone would ever /willingly/ get involved with her." She shakes her head disapprovingly and clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.


Married? Wedding? Half-way through the door, Tathar stops and frankly stares. For a wonder, her curly hair is neatly tied back (and with a red ribbon, not dirty string), although she still is not wearing shoes and her feet are, as usual, rather muddy. Brown eyes widen enormously at the snatches of talk that she hears, sparkling with curiosity and an intense interest. One slender hand holds the door open and she just stands there and gapes, heedless of any who may try to go in or out.


Still standing, Randel digs in her pocket automatically for a couple coins and holds them out to the serving girl; the other hand stirs her tea absentmindedly, bread and cheese neglected for the moment. "Mr Blackroot-- Manfred!" she echoes in wonder. "But eh, she's not that bad, you know," she rejoins. "Malorie's a reformed character now. I remember back when she was a rotten egg, she was!"


"It's my bet that she forced him to, by saying she'd do something nasty to him if she didn't, I'll warrant. That girl is up to nothing but trouble in my opinion." Toldo revels in the gossip, and goes on, "Though it's not so much the marrying thing that gets me, so much as her doin all that to her poor family, out of simple spite and malice if you ask me!" Toldo quickly glances over to Tanna, and attempts to put on a similar expression to her. "Rotten egg once? She's rotten all the way through, even now, if you ask me!"


Doriana laughs as she looks upon Tanna "Don' be silly! Weddin's are always lovely" a smile still upon her face she fills up some more drinks and moves over to the makeshift bar. Refilling the pitcher and one tankard of ale she moves towards Tolion. She sets the tankard in front of him happily. "There ya are. A pint of are ale, famous it is." She stands with one hand on her hip, watching him expectantly.


Bobbing her head a few times in agreement with the Hobbit, the healer lowers her head and says in a softer tone so only those near her may hear, "Though I must say... that father of hers is no good! Remember what he said in his drunken state?" She tuts again at that thought, her hands reaching for her mug again so that she may take another sip, eyes regarding Toldo expectantly from over the rim. When she removes the cup from her lips, she gives a sidelong glance at Doriana, rolling her eyes. "Weddings are bothersome, if you ask me."


"A kindness I do not deserve," comes Tolion's quietly spoken and laconic reply. His gaze flits from the server's face to the tankard, and there is a keen glistening in his eye. In another moment he returns to filling the pipe's bowl, his face hidden in the shadowy folds of his cloak. "And rightly," he says again without glancing up, "For I haven't the coins to give you. Perhaps it needn't go to waste, though, the hobbit over there might like it." With a motion of his head, the Stranger points out Toldo with the same queer glistering playing amid the light hue of his eye.


Edging closer and closer, the door slips from Tathar's grasp and starts to swing shut behind her. Her gaze flits from one gossiping face to the next and she pushes her way still nearer. Tanna receives an intent stare, the girl stopping for several minutes just to look at her; but at last she is near enough to see Toldo and a smile lights up her face. Tanna is forgotten. "Hello!" she calls through the noise and bustle of the crowded room and alters course a little to fetch up beside the hobbit.


Randel glares at the young hobbit, flaring up. "You hold your tongue, mister," she snaps. "Bad mouthing a pillar of society like this." She raps her spoon on the table, punctuating her words, "I'd vouch for her character any day now, and that's saying a lot."

"More likely a wild story made up by a drunken man, as you put it," she says, nodding to Tanna.


Doriana chuckles first at the statement about weddings, "But think a all them flowers an pretty dresses an all that, I think weddin's are jus' beautiful." Her attention turns to the man now and she continues laughing "Now don' you be silly, i's on the house. Now take a drink, I'm sure ya'll agree i's the best ya can get. And you been out in the wide world an all." She smiles brightly and continues to wait in front of the man.


"Well ma'am really!" Toldo says, almost angrily, to Randel, and goes on "No offence meant of course, but that "Drunken Man" as you so called him just so happens to be her own dear father, not to mention her own brother, so I'll vouch that they've known her a good sight longer than ye Ma'am, so I'll believe them if you don't mind, and you can believe whoever you choose." He drains the last of his milk, leaving a white moustache on his face, of which he is blissfully unaware, and takes a few puffs on his pipe.


Raising her eyes to search in the direction of the greeting, Tanna narrows in on the girl approaching Toldo as if she were interrupting a secret conversation. Her jaws tighten as she notices the muddy condition of her feet, and a grimace crosses across her face, mouth opening and then shutting to hold back a nasty comment. She turns her head to face the others again, eyes flickering towards Tathar every so often in the anticipation of an action she might not approve of. "Well I don't know /who/ to believe... though I certainly wouldn't put it past a father to give up a daughter like her. Thieving!" A pause before she quickly adds, "But still... treating your child like that.. It's just terrible!"


"A parent drunk is no fit parent," retorts Randel. "But speaking of parents! Allowing a little girl in a place like this so late," she growls, looking at Tathar.


The Stranger strikes a match upon the leg of the chair quite suddenly, and the pipebowl glows red and orange in another instant. Leaning back in his chair and sending clouds of grey towards the ceiling, Tolion silently regards the barmaid for some time, paying no attention to the tall tankard. When his lips part his voice has become even quieter than before, as if he would not have the other patrons hear him, but the sobriety and somber manner of his queer speech cannot be mistaken.

"I could not believe that Mr. Barliman is so altered in his view of my ... sort, though I should like to. It would not be the first time that I were called a thief, and I would not wish the name upon myself unintentionally." His words echo the Healer's louder cry, though his eyes do not stray from the Barmaid's features. Still, he takes slow draughts of smoke from his pipe, letting the pungent blue curl about his lips.


Tathar sniffs a little and scowls as she is plainly ignored. And by a friend too! But Toldo's disgrace is quickly erased from her mind and the scowl deepens and is transferred in a flash to another woman. "I am NOT little!" she snaps and visibly bristles. Her small jaw juts forward and her hands bunch into fists at her sides. "I am nearly grown!"


With a friendly look to Tathar, Toldo says "Good Evening Miss Tathar, I must say, the lady is right, it is rather late, why are ye here?" He waves to Doriana, trying to attract her attention, then looks back to Randel "I must agree with you there, a drunk man is worser 'n no man at all. That's what me Old Dad used to say, when me big brother used to come home worse for wear as it were."


"Nearly grown?" A sharp laugh makes its way out of Tanna's mouth as she turns her eyes upon Tathar again. "You look and /act/ like a child to me." She nods afterwards in approval of her own words before squinting carefully at the girl. "Besides, no one /grown/ throws a tantrum like yours."


Randel flicks over to the long-legged one disinterestedly, and she chuckles at Tanna's reply. "Well, we've not come here to slander one another or quarrel, we've come to have a good time, aye?" She suddenly grins at the company all around. "A round for all at this table!" she calls to Doriana. "To life and love and Barliman!"


"More /tea/ for me," pipes up Tanna with a scrunching of her nose. "I don't very much like ale, if you must know."


Doriana shifts uneasily as the man speaks, "We now... he's gots his reasons I reckon... he's a good man, jus' concerned bout his own..don' want no trouble..." her smile has momentarily faded leaving a more puzzled look upon her face. "Someone called ya a thief? I didn' hear that.." Her smile returns and her tone returns to one of cheer "Well ya didn' steal that there drink, I tol' ya when I met ya if ya came I'd give ya a drink an I did..."

Her attention is drawn by the waving hand and she quickly moves towards the hobbit's table. "Another milk for ya or somethin else?" she asks cheerfully, taking his tankard. Her eyes travel towards the woman and the young hobbit and her voice raises "Well surely!" and she fills each tankard.

Hearing the request for tea she glances around quickly "Anyone else fer somethin from the kitchen?"


"You should talk." Tathar glowers at Tanna. "I haven't heard you say one nice thing yet." Pointedly turning away from the other woman, she smiles at Toldo. "How are you? I haven't seen you for a while, I finished carving the lizard though and gave it to Toby. He liked it." The more she says, the wider her smile grows until at the end, she is fairly beaming. Why she is there is a question that is ignored completely.


Nodding his head slowly as if in thanks towards the Barmaid as she replies, Tolion continues to smoke in his thoughtful manner, resting his eyes upon the young woman that so much trouble had recently been made of, even as she speaks. He says nothing, however, merely letting his gaze wander away in time, ere it might be thought altogether uncomfortable.


"A tea for this young lady!" puts in Randel quickly. "And don't forget that stranger in the corner," she reminds the serving girl saucily. "Mayhap an ale'll put a smile on his face, it's long as his legs."


"Oh well miss," Toldo says to Doriana, "I was going to ask for another drink, but since the lady here is bein so generous, I spose it don't matter so much." He smiles, and nods to Randel. He turns to Tathar. "You finished it? Wonderful! I do wish I could have seen it before you gave it away though. Still. No matter. I'm sure I'll get to see some more work of yours sometime!" He smiles again. He then whispers to those near him, "Who is that man anyhow? He certainly don't look like noone from round here."


The healer glares right back at Tathar, her hands clenching tighter around the mug on her table. "I've said plenty of nice things... Just not about /you/. In fact, I don't see how anyone could, with your feet all muddy and dirty. Who /knows/ what you've stepped in or tracked into the common room." Tanna cranes her neck around the girl to get a eye the path that was taken by the girl. Instead of answering Doriana's question, she asks, "Could you have someone /clean/ up this floor?"


Randel takes up her bread and cheese, and munching temporarily silences the Bree woman.


Tolion smiles but slightly, a wry softening of his features, at Randel's mentioning him. He turns to look upon him, raising his tankard in her direction with another nod, but he sets it upon the table untouched nearly as quickly as his grin fades.


Tanna says, "Oh, never mind about the tea. I don't know if I'd like to stay in a room like this so long. It's too messy and dirty for my taste, this evening." With a peer over both shoulders, Tanna stands and carefully finds herself a couple of paces away from the table. Of course, she doesn't forget to shoot that last glare towards Tathar before she meanders her way around the excessively muddy spots upon the floor, eventually making it to the exit and leaving.


Doriana bustles off out the door with her tray. Returning promptly with a pot of tea and several cups. Also a pot and a few bowls, rest atop her piling tray, with a plate of bread. As she gives tea to all those that asked she answers the question about the floor with a laugh "Don' see why bother till everyone leaves, jus' gonna be more mud tracked about. We don' clean the floors till the end of the night..but if it bothers ya a lot I can fetch ya a mop?" she offers helpfully, calling after the girl.


Nodding approvingly as the drinks are served, Randel empties her pocket of largesse. "This cover it?" she says slightly anxiously to Doriana, slipping the coins into the serving girl's hand.


Her evident determination to ignore Tanna completely doesn't last long. Turning her head to peer over one shoulder, she snaps right back. "Last anyone told me, feet had nothing to do with a person being nice or not." Furious dark eyes scan the woman up and down and then she turns away again, but not without a muttered, "Obviously." And Tanna's parting glare goes unnoticed for the girl is busily talking to Toldo. "I will show you the next one, promise," she says in a lightning-swift shift of mood. "It will be even better." Her gaze follows his towards the strange man and she lowers her voice a little too. "I don't know who he is, but I saw him outside the gate the other day. He was acting very strangely." (Tathar)


Doriana smiles as she places the coins in a pouch without bothering to count 'Of course it will.' she says pleasantly to Randel. Then she moves her way to the 'bar' again and sets the tray down momentarily. She places the pot down and dishes out one bowl of stew. She takes the bowl and the bread to the man who is attracting so much attention. Setting it down she grins and speaks with a hushed voice "... ... ... ya ... ... ... ... ... food." she hands him a spoon and continues to speak "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., Doriana .... ... ... ... ... ... ... name I ... ...."


Relieved at Doriana's answer, Randel thumps her mug on the table. "A song!," she cries. "Let's have a song!"


Two hobbits a short way down laugh and stand up, rather shakily. "We've got one, if you'll hear it!" Without waiting for an snswer, they burst into song; one voice rich and smooth, the other very scratchy:

"Shirefolk love their mealtimes
Dwarves they love their gold
Elves they love to dance all day,
or so we're often told

Combe-folk love the orchard
Staddle-folk the pond
Archet-folk the forest
that lies for leagues beyond..."


Randel hums along, keeping time by slapping her hand on the table. The warblers pause for breath and plunge enthusiastically into the next verse:


Perhaps Tolion guesses at the young woman's mention of him, for his eyes stray to her once again but briefly, though where they wander might be hard to know ... for his visage is wreathed in smoke. He has but little time to study Tathar, however, as a song is called for and quickly answered. To this he devotes his attention chiefly, and it seems to bring a welcomed change to his somber expression, for he smiles in a wry fashion, and he stretches out his long legs before, one muddied boot atop the other.


"But we Breefolk love the nectar
Of Barliman's old barrels
We'll talk and laugh and linger long
And hear of other's travels

No winding road fraught with peril
No far-off lands for me!
The little brown mugs my heartstrings tug
In the cosy in of Bree!"

The scratchy-voiced hobbit takes a quick swig and shouts,"Everyone join in!"


Tathar herself turns from talking to listening, both cheeks dimpling in a smile, her eyes glimmering with fun. Happily, she adds to the general noise, clapping as loud as she can and not quite in the right rhythm.


Randel bellows along lustily, unconscious that her melody wanders far and wide of the mark, "The little brown mugs my heartstrings tug, in the cosy inn of Bree!"


Glancing across the table towards the barmaid after the song draws to its close, the Stranger looks upon the steaming bowl and says, after his quiet manner, ".... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., for a ... ... as ... ... ... ... as yourself." But he smiles all the same. Then glancing back at the bellowing Breelander, and setting his pipe upon the tabletop, he lowers his voice quite a bit, mayhap lower than what might be audible among the merry making, saying to the Barmaid, "I ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... ... evening. ... ... not, ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... .... I ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... ... remark ... ... ... ... but ... ...." Turning back from the Bree-woman but briefly, he sets his light gaze to roving the company in an idle manner gathered, then returns it to Doriana.

Smiling and nodding his head to the Barmaid's words, Tolion stands from his seat and takes his pipe from the table to place it somewhere within the folds of his cloak. He pushes both bowl and tankard to the centre of the table as he does so, and he pulls his deep hood yet further down along his features. Mayhap he takes note of the Barmaid's hastening about, and perhaps he thinks it a fair enough opportunity as any to slip away, for so he seems intent upon doing.

Saying nought to anyone as he passes them, the Stranger makes strides with the same determind tread, swiftly wending a path about a few low stools left out from beneath the tables where they belong, and passing the long benches that line the even longer table. Without a parting glance, he opens the door and disappears before it shuts to.


With a grin from ear to ear, and a hearty, deep-throated laugh, Toldo stands, and smiles to all about. "I'm afraid I'm not quite so good at this singing lark as the rest of ye, but it's gettin late, and I really should be off home. Thanks for the drink ma'am" He says, raising his tankard to Randel, and draining it, "Well, goodbye everyone, thanks for a good evening!" He staggers over to the door, and wanders on out of it.


As the hobbits sit down again to cheers and back-slapping, Randel lubricates her gullet liberally with more "nectar" and waves goodbye to Toldo. She shakes her head to Doriana, "No stew for me, thanks. This bread and cheese is filling enough."


Tathar's small nose wrinkles appreciatively at the enticing odor of stew that curls out from the kitchen, but she shakes her head no. Not without a slightly wistful glance though and a second sniff. When Toldo leaves, she waves after him but not before sliding into his vacated seat. "Good night..."


The Breewoman looks down at the child, her brow wrinkling. "You should be running off home too," she says in a kindly voice. "Sleep'll help you grow strong and big -- uh, bigger, I mean."


Doriana frowns as she turns to find a vacated seat and full bowl of stew. She sighs and clears the dishes away to the bar. Her spirits somewhat lessened. She wanders around asking various figures to begin their way home. "I know i's early! It's gettin' early that is. If ya stay the rest a the night yer wife'll have ya in the mornin'" she laughs to one of their protests as she leads him to the door.


"I'm not tired," Tathar avers stoutly, barely managing to stifle a yawn brought on by the mere suggestion of bed. Her eyes drop to the table top and she fiddles with Toldo's left-behind mug. "Besides, I don't want to go home."


"Oh dear!" murmurs Randel to herself, and glances over to Doriana. "What shall we do with this difficult customer?" Gesturing at Tathar, she winks to the serving girl. "Closing time, and she won't budge."


Doriana chuckles and looks around "I ain' too worried bout her, I'm more worried bout the ones who been here since Openin' Time" She begins clearing the dishes off the table, piling them carefully upon the tray. She smiles at the girl "But it is late, and we will be closin soon, just to warn ya"


Tathar looks up, instantly defensive. "I'm not being difficult! Oh..." Uncertainly, she looks at Randel, then Doriana, then back. "You're teasing me? Is.. is it really closing time?" She starts to push her chair away from the table; it scrapes hideously across the wooden floor, then stops with a smile for the barmaid's final words.


"D'you live nearby?" Randel shakes her head worriedly. "Well... you take the rest o' this bread and cheese, to keep you company on the way back, eh." She gives what she hopes is a coaxing smile.


Doriana looks between the two and laughs "We'll have Bob walk ya home when yer ready. I'd let ya stay an help us clean up but by the looks o those there shoes ya wouldn' do as much helpin as you would messin'" she laughs again and smiles. "We'll be open agin tomorrow don't worry."


"Not far. Really." Tathar hastily reassures Randel.. but she takes the bread and cheese anyhow, stuffing it into a pocket as if afraid it might be taken back without notice. "Just down the road that way." And she jerks her head towards one wall. Doriana recieves an extremely dubious glance, but the girl evidently decides in favor of laughing as well for a little giggle transforms her sulky face. "I know," she says, standing up at last. "But I haven't any shoes to wear now, I have to save mine for in the winter when it's cold."


"Hmm," says Randel, eyeing Tathar, but she refrains from making another comment about the child's parents. The Bree woman yawns expansively. "I'll be off, then, myself," she says, and waves a cursory waves to all remaining. With a sluggish tread, she steps out.


Doriana watches as several of the last customers make their way out. She smiles to Randel "Have a good night" she says as she exits. She then turns to Tathar "Now I don' suppose ya'll really be wantin' Bob to escort ya home." she winks "A lass like you can take care a herself I'm sure." She smiles and continues to clear tables. "But o' course if you do wan' him to walk ya home he'll be happy to."


"No, I don't need him to." Tathar stretches herself up as tall as she can. She is already halfway to the door, but pauses and looks back. "Thank you," she adds shyly. "Goodnight."


Doriana merely smiles and watches the girl leave. "Goodnight!" she calls after her.