Elendor Info

  • Increase font size
  • Default font size
  • Decrease font size
Logs

Shire-folk Reunion: Waymeeting

Tags: Lango,  Miklo,  Finigrin,  Torebras,  Nob,  Thasto,  Boldibad

Short Summary: A bunch of hobbits discuss important matters in Waymeet.
Date (real-life): 2011-05-01
Scene Location: Waymeet, The Shire
Date (in-game): Winterfilth 24, 1452 S.R.
Time of Day: 15:51
Weather: Cool
Logfile from Elendor.

Boldibad (Riding Dash)(#21281aetM)
> > > From Atop Dash < < <
Waymeet
    Waymeet, or 'Waymoot' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.
    Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.


Ways to go:
Town Hall Inn
Brownlock Smial
Market Place
East
West
Northwest
South
Doctor's Office

From below, Finigrin approaches from the east.
From below, Finigrin has arrived.

<leave Dash>

Waymeet(#3504Rto)
    Waymeet, or 'Waymoot' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.
    Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.

Contents:
Finigrin
Boldibad (Riding Dash)(#21281aetM)
Obvious exits:
 Town Hall Inn leads to Town Hall Inn.
 Brownlock Smial leads to Brownlock Smial Sitting Room.
 Market Place leads to Waymeet Market Place.
 East leads to Great East Road - Shady Glen.
 West leads to Great East Road - Hardbottle Turnoff.
 Northwest leads to West Farthing Road.
 South leads to Whitwell.
 Doctor's Office leads to Dr. North-Took's Office/Home.


Dash leaves toward the northwest.
Dash has left.


Thasto leaves the Brownlock Smial.
Thasto has arrived.


Waymeet(#3504Rto)
    Waymeet, or 'Waymoot' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.
    Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.

Contents:
Thasto
Finigrin
Obvious exits:
 Town Hall Inn leads to Town Hall Inn.
 Brownlock Smial leads to Brownlock Smial Sitting Room.
 Market Place leads to Waymeet Market Place.
 East leads to Great East Road - Shady Glen.
 West leads to Great East Road - Hardbottle Turnoff.
 Northwest leads to West Farthing Road.
 South leads to Whitwell.
 Doctor's Office leads to Dr. North-Took's Office/Home.


================================= +SHIRE TIME =================================
RL (Arizona) Time is Sun May 01 12:37:05 2011 (+time).
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IC Time is 15:51:15 on Monday, Winterfilth (October) 24, 1452 S.R.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Thasto strolls casually down the strip, whistling a jaunty tune. He nods and happily greets the occassional passerby.


Boldibad rides along the Great East Road this afternoon, passing through Waymeet at a leisurely pace. As he nears the Town Hall Inn, his pony suddenly begins to buck and whinnie loudly. "Woah," he says in surprise. "Stop that!" He slides down off the saddle in a near panic, and the pony bolts to the northwest.


Thasto
Thasto Proudfoot is about average for a Hobbit. He's roughly two-and-five-sixths feet tall, and slightly rotund 'round the middle. His head is topped with thick, curly, sandy-coloured hair, and his bright blue eyes are surrounded with scores of laugh lines. Thasto's cheeks are bright red and full of life.

He is wearing a black-and-blue linen shirt, buttoned all the way up with dulled pewter buttons. On top of this is an darker blue waistcoat with green trim with brass buttons up the center and over the pockets.

His brown woolen trousers are cuffed just above his ankles. A darker brown belt of heavy leather has been wrapped around his waist and from it hangs a pouch or two.

The dark brown fur on his feet is well-maintained and impeccably groomed.


Boldibad(#22742PeA+cfT)

                               Boldibad Bolger                                
                                 Setting: IC                                  
 
    By all appearances, a gentlehobbit, distinguished by at least five decades of age and experience. Wrinkles only seem to be making their presence known by making their way into the sides of his mouth, and around his eyes. Probably weighing in well over 120 pounds, his girth seems respectable, at least as far as Bolgers go. Despite the extra weight, and advancing age, Boldibad seems to be in fine health.
    A few inches of curly, reddish-brown hair cover his head and hang down past his ears. The texture appears to be quite thick, almost wooly. His relatively large feet are coated by similar stuff, the only difference is that this hair appears to be trimmed much shorter than that on his head. His nose is somewhat bulbous, but not so much as to look out of proportion with the rest of his face.
     He is wearing a white shirt of cotton, buttoned all the way up. On top of this is an old waistcoat that seems to fit him perfectly. The waistcoat is red with yellow buttons up the center and over the pockets.
     Draped over his shoulders is a thick, green cloak meant to keep the chill of winter out. It is held shut with a fine brooch of silver.
     A silver chain dangles from a pocket in his waistcoat. It appears to be attached to a watch.
     His trousers are black and they dangle somewhat below his ankles. A black belt of thin leather has been wrapped around his waist and from it hangs a couple of pouches that probably contain money or pipeweed.


Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.


Thasto watches the pony through it's rider. 'Oi! Are you alright over there?' He calls as he hurries over.


Boldibad peers off to the northwest, and begins to brush himself off. "Yes," he says, "I think so. It happens all the time, I'm afraid. I've never seen such an unruly beast." He looks up and peers in Thasto's direction. "Ah," he says half-heartedly. "Hello, Mr. Proudfoot. What brings you out here?"


'Oh.' Thasto says with deflated enthusiasim. 'I'm glad to hear you're not terribly hurt.' He rolls his eyes. 'Good afternoon, at any rate, Master Bolger. I'm just paying a visit to the Brownlocks. They manage my estates, if you must know.'


It's been a long while since Finigrin's days as a struggling young artist but one might not be able to tell as much from the way he still manages to sully himself with the occasional paint smears on his fingers and clothes. It's been a good day down at the market -- a couple little paintings sold -- and he's just making his way back to the centre of town when the pony sprints off. He takes a moment to stare after it, puzzled, before starting toward Boldibald and Thasto. "Surely you weren't //hoping// for injury," Finigrin comments wryly to Thasto's apparent disappointment.


Boldibad begins to whistle for his pony, to no avail. Glancing at Thasto, he replies, "Not the worse for wear, Mr. Proudfoot, thank you. Is that so? Well, I was just riding back from Michel Delving, myself. Quite a long ride it is, when you have to deal with a surly pony. It's the one I bought in Bree, you know." He turns toward the newcomer, and smiles, "Hello there." He crosses his arms and looks at Thasto.


Miklo approaches from the east.
Miklo has arrived.


Miklo wanders along puffing on his favorite pipe.


Thasto glances over his shoulder at Finigrin. 'Surely not. More disappointed at the meeting, you might say.' He says (as if Boldibad isn't there). Thasto turns back to the Bolger. 'Well, I suppose that's what you get from a Breepony. P'rhaps you can sell it for feed or something if it continues behaving this way.'


Miklo
An older looking hobbit with a cheery look about him and very, very curly brown hair with a few streaks of grey here and there. He wears simple clothing, a white shirt covered by a red-plaid vest with many pockets in it. A pair of well worn brown trousers held up by a pair of black suspenders with large gold buttons go down to his bare feet.Stuck in one of the many vest pockets is a long-stemmed intricately hand carved pipe. It appears to get a lot of use.


Miklo approaches the assembled group of hobbits. "Good day to you! What would you all be up to this day?"


Lango approaches from the east.
Lango has arrived.


Lango comes strolling casually down the road, whistling, and looks startled to see a crowd of hobbits


Finigrin arches an eyebrow at Thasto. "Oh. Well. Unfortunate, that," is his awkward reply to the explanation, glancing over to Boldibad as he hasn't chosen to selectively ignore his presence. "I get the feeling I'm missing something. In any case, he has a point, I suppose -- selling it for feed if it comes down to it, that is." As Miklo approaches, though, he turns to flash the hobbit a friendly smile. "Good afternoon! Just discussing a spot of pony trouble."


Lango nods to Miklo, "Good afternoon to you, my friend! Pony trouble, my goodness!"


Miklo puffs absent-mindedly on his pipe and blows out a small ring. "Ponies eh? Gave them up years ago. Better to walk on two feet I always say."


Boldibad shakes his head, "Oh, it's nothing--I'm sure Mr. Proudfoot didn't mean it, the way it came out." He looks up as the other hobbits approach and he smiles, nodding politely. "Hello, gentlehobbits."


<Shirefolk> Lango scratches his head at Finigrin's @desc


Finigrin
A muzzle, long and lean, protrudes from the broad face of this beast, tapering to a blunt nose the colour of coal. A flash of ivory fang signals that its mouth is slightly agape, displaying the deep rose of tender gums. Thin black lips run the generous length of the mouth leading to a pair of deep set eyes, polished amber spheres punctuated with specks of green that shimmer pearlescently in the dim light. The occasional twitch of triangular ears and the low rhythm of breath drawn through the filter of its snout serve as a ghastly reminder that this... thing.. is indeed quite real.

A strong neck connects the head to a thick trunk, from which four wirey appendages sprout. From shoulder to elbow to clawed fingertips, it seems that the contours are defined entirely by lean muscle. Similarily, both thighs and calves of his legs feature muscles resembling bundles of piano wires, leading down to paw-like feet. Extending from the base of his spine wags a tail, impressive in both length and fullness.

Covering the surface of this monstrousity is a thick coat of fur, bristling with autumn hues of amber and oak. Most impressive is this beast, and most intimidating... Though one might suspect he would be even more so, should he stand over three feet tall.
Carrying:
Kurtigar(#18359np)
Goblin Hat(#29223n)


<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "wowsers :)"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad laughs
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "One of those days ;)"
<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "It's Halloween! :)"


|Lango is looking at you.|


Lango
A cheerful-looking hobbit of enormous bulk, appearing to be in his early thirties, with unusually curly brown hair on his head and on his unshod toes. He's wearing a brand new jacket today (the bright blue color so brilliant that it startles you), over a red plaid waistcoat. His knee breeches are also brand new, of a dazzlingly bright green, with tiny yellow ribbons tied at the knees. The stem of a pipe pokes out of his waistcoat pocket. The hair on his head and feet is unusually neatly trimmed today, with a neat part in the middle of his forehead and in the center of each foot.


<Shirefolk> Finigrin takes a look at himself. "Oops! XD Um... Yeah, lemme switch that out. For practical purposes, he's a reasonably well dressed hobbit... with a few random paint smears on his clothes and such."
<Shirefolk> Lango says, "heh! OK, I get the picture."


========================= Online Players by Culture ==========================
Dale-Lands:   ( 4) Elodie Gavving Horst Raynar
Erebor:       ( 3) Diesa Graim Zhoin
Gondorian:    ( 3) Imrakhor Ninvainiel Seregarth
Haradrim:     ( 2) Farielle Gimildaur
Imladhrim:    ( 2) Elrohir+ Gilgurth
Isendrim:     ( 1) Hort
Mithlondhrim: ( 1) Seregithil
Mordain:      ( 1) Guzmukh
Rohirrim:     ( 1) Ceridwen
Shirefolk:    ( 5) Boldibad* Finigrin Lango Miklo Thasto*
================== + = Ruler, * = Local Admin, Hilited = IC ==================


Lango nods to Finigrin and bows to Boldibad, "A pleasure to see you here, cousin! Yes, ponies do seem a bit of an extravagance, unless you've a long journey planned."


Thasto reaches into his waistcoat and extracts his pipe. 'Indeed. P'rhaps you just don't have the knack for ponies and the like.' He mumbles as he fumbles around for a match. In a louder, more conversational voice, he glances at Finigrin. 'Hmm. Have I seen you around before? Your face looks familar, but I canna place a name to it.'


Lango inspects Waymeet's well.
Lango inspects Waymeet's sign.

A small bird sitting on the sign chirps merrily.


Boldibad squints for a moment, "Ah, Lango? What brings you all the way out here?" He pulls a filled pipe from his waistcoat and strikes a few sparks into the bowl, puffing out a few clouds of Longbottom Leaf. "Well," he says to Thasto, "Certainly not with that one. Half the time, he won't let me get in the saddle--the other half, he runs off on his own accord."


Announcement: Miklo has changed the poll to: a hobbit?, come to the Shire today! 5/1

<Public> Thasto says, "Shire: 5/5 IC. :^)"
<Public> Boldibad likes the looks of +Cwho right now

<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "it's great, but also sad that we can brag about 5 hobbits. :)"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "That's true :P"
<Shirefolk> Thasto says, "It's just the beginning. . ."
<Shirefolk> Miklo is loving it anyway!
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "This is just like old times, for me"


Lango gets a nod in return and Finigrin turns to Thasto. "Ah! Finigrin Brandybuck, artist extraordinaire at your service. Well, I'm working on the 'extraordinaire', at any rate." He mutters the last bit in a stage whisper and punctuates with a self-deprecating smirk. "You've probably seen me around, yes! Somehow I manage to find myself away from Buckland quite a bit these days. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?"


Miklo taps the remains of his pipe out onto the ground and grabs a small pouch to refill it. "Hmpphh. Ponies! Like I said, no feet like my own feet I always say. And long journeys? Buckland is plenty far enough eh master Brandybuck?"


<Shirefolk> Miklo steps all over toes. :)


Lango bows to Finigrin and claps his cousin Boldibad on the back, "Lango Bolger, at your service." He coughs a couple of times, "I was just on my way to see Doctor North-Took here, a bit of a frog in my throat.... Not literally, haw, haw, of course.... well, well, an artist! And extraordinaire at that! We must bring you to Budge Ford to do a bit of decorating for us!"


Thasto bows to Fin. 'Thasto Proudfoot creator and purveyor of fine stouts and porters at yours and your family's.' He says. He strokes his chin. 'Hmm. Brandybuck, eh? What part of Buckland do you hail from, then?'
Boldibad clears his throat, glancing the other way at Lango's joke, "Yes, yes. Well, it's good to see you, cousin." He puffs on his pipe. Looking over toward Miklo, he says, "Well, I'm on my way back from Michel Delving. I wouldn't want to make that trip without a beast! I'm Boldibad Bolger, by the way, sir..." He bows as far as he feels comfortable.


Miklo peers at Boldibad and puffs deeply on his pipe. Bowing back he adds, "Miklo Took here, but we've met. I made a pipe for you some time ago, the payment for which was promised, but never fully realized if I recall correctly." Waving his pipe around a bit he adds as well, "But then again, I've been known to be wrong. Nice to see you and sorry about your pony sir."


<OOC> You say, "Oh no ;)"
<OOC> Miklo grins


"Oh, most definitely," Finigrin replies to Miklo. "Though, in truth, I don't really mind the journey." Those weird Bucklanders and their... weirdness. "It's when the traveling outweighs the time at home that's a problem." Lango's joke earns him a little laugh. "I'd love to do some work at Budge Ford!" And in the flurry of conversation he nearly overlooks Thasto's question. "Ah, Brandy Hall itself, actually! You should pay a visit, Mr. Proudfoot."


Lango pats his ample stomach and grins, "As for ponies, well, with the size of me, they usually run when they see me coming. And alas, I'm never able to catch 'em. But I suppose I can use the exercise." He smiles at Finigrin, "Ah, Brandy Hall. I'll never forget the buffet service there. They had seven different types of mushrooms..." He gazes into the distance, in blissful revery.


Thasto nods knowingly. 'Brandy Hall. Ne'er been myself, but I know my cousin Peasblossom married Anncenad Brandybuck a a couple years back, but I think they moved up to Newbury.'


Boldibad sighs, looking off to the northwest. "Normally, he would have returned by now," he mumbles. Turning back to the crowd, he looks with some concern at Miklo. "Er, are you sure? I don't remember buying a pipe. How much... do I owe you, anyhow?"


Miklo chuckles at Boldibad's concerned expression. "Never you mind sir, never you mind. You can just buy me a pint the next time we're in the Green Dragon together."


<OOC> Miklo says, "easy way to get free beer!!"
<OOC> Boldibad grumbles ;)


Red flows the Brandywine; with flame the river kindles,
as sun sinks beyond the Shire, and then to grey it dwindles.


Thasto smiles at Boldibad. 'Think positive. P'rhaps something will eat it and that'll be the end of your pony problems.'


Lango pats his pockets at the repeated mention of pipes and pipeweed. He draws an enormous curved pipe from his waistcoat pocket, lights it, and puffs a gigantic cloud of smoke, only to be rewarded with a paroxysm of coughing, "Ack, hack! One of these days, I really must cut down on smoking... perhaps next year." He thinks briefly at Thasto's suggestion, "Ponies... now there's a dish I've never tried"


Finigrin sighs happily at the thought of all those mushrooms. "Oh, yes! They add an eighth for the holiday season... Nothing quite like Brandy Hall for comfort, that's for sure." Thasto's comment seems to break his haze of food-based nostalgia though. "Yes, I haven't seen Anncenad around the Hall for quite a while. Newbury's a nice place though... Well, if ever you make it out that far, do look me up. Perhaps we'll go out to Bucklebury for a pint." He pauses, grins and adds to Thasto's hopeful comment, "Yes, but then he'd be out the feed he could've got for it in trade. Still..."


Boldibad smiles, "My kind of hobbit! That sounds like a deal. Uncle Odovacar would have gladly given me the money, anyhow, I'm sure of it. Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind taking a look at an old pipe of my father's. The stem of it has been cracked for years. I don't have it with me, though--I would have to send it to you at Great Smials." Suddenly, he stops talking and scrunches up his features. "Proudfoots," he grumbles under his breath, but doesn't have any response for Thasto otherwise.


Miklo points his pipe towards Thasto and exclaims, "Eat it? The pony sir? Eat the pony? Are you saying there's something in the Shire that would eat a pony? Ridiculous, obsurd, why it's silly....isn't it?" He looks around in the growing dusk a tad nervously, then smiling at Boldibad he says, "Cracked stem it is? Drop it off at my old shop in Tuckborough and I'll have a look at it."


<Shirefolk> Nob says, "Happy Hobbit Day. :D"
<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "thanks Nob"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "Hey Nob"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "Come join the RP"
<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "yeah, we're going to watch Lango eat a pony , or something like that"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad grins
<Shirefolk> Nob doesn't know if I can pose in or not... but where are you?


<OOC> Nob has arrived.
<OOC> Nob waves. :)
<OOC> Miklo says, "just chatting up about Boldi's pony and pipes and stuff"


Thasto glances at Miklo. 'Sure enough there is. Something up in the Northfarthing has been eating Sheeps and young calves. Prolly could make a go at /that/ pony, I'll wager.'


Miklo shudders noticeably. "Silly it is, silly. Quite preposterous."


Lango smiles at Miklo's comment, "A creature in the Shire that would eat a pony? Well, I've been at some dinners at the Sackville-Bagginses where the meat was so tough I wouldn't be surprised if it had had a saddle on it for a few years." He grins, "And that Lobelia, well, she'd be able to make short work of any beast!"


<OOC> Miklo says, "LOL!!"
<OOC> Thasto grins.
<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "you almost made me do a spit take all over my keyboard!"


"Cut down on smoking? Are you mad? Well, I'll take your share of the weed if you'd like to start cutting back immediately." Finigrin gives Lango a hopeful look, watching the cloud of pipeweed smoke drift off into the aether. "I'll even trade you my share of pony for it," he jokes... which brings him around to the mysterious pony-eating thing that's become a point of conversation. "What? Well, certainly it wouldn't make its way down this far... Surely." Though he doesn't sound so certain.


<Shirefolk> Finigrin XD


Boldibad puts a finger to his chin, "That again? What makes you think there is really a monster loose in the Shire, Thasto? Have there been any new sightings?" He puffs on his pipe, and seems to be getting somewhat nervous--or maybe it's just the chill of autumn getting into him. He pulls his cloak a little tighter, and looks off to the northwest again. "Here, Dash! Come here, boy! Oh," he says over his shoulder, "I agree with Mr. Finigrin--there's nothing healthier than a pinch of Old Toby, or Longbottom leaf in the morning, you know!"


<Shirefolk> Boldibad laughs


'Surely it isn't' Thasto says. 'I've seen the poor sheep what got eet up at Ol' Diggle's farm.' He says, scowling at Boldibad. 'It was an awful scene. It's innards were strewn all across the yard. Missus Diggle said she heard all sorts of squeals an' screams.'


Miklo relights his pipe and blows out a stream of smoke. "Why, I remember one winter, not that long ago when we had wolves mind you. Wolves right here in the Shire. Why the Bounders had their hands full that winter they did. But what's this about a monster eating sheeps and what have you? A monster?" He gives Thasto a look and shivers again.


[Nob] "If it's innerds was strewed all about the place, it weren't et," objects a passing hobbit who has slowed his steps to listen to the talk of monsters. "Stands to reason. If they is out in the plain air, they isn't et."


Miklo makes a face. "Eeewwww"


Lango glares at the passing hobbit, "Innards strewn about the place! Now that's almost enough to spoil my appetite, even if dinnertime is approaching. Almost..."


Finigrin looks a touch green about the gills with the new details. "Monsters... No such thing. I do hope we don't have wolves again though!" He turns to the passing hobbit, hitching his shoulders in a shrug. "Well, maybe not the innards. But the rest of it could've been eaten. Still! I don't fancy having //my// innards strewn from here to Greenfields!"


Boldibad strokes his chin thoughtfully, "You know, Mr. Took," he says to Miklo, "I did hear my friend, Thilo, who was told by our mutual friend, Berredan, who heard from a cousin of his, say something about a wolf, or wolves loose in the Shire..." He shudders, "Do you suppose it could be wolves now?" He peers over at the new arrival. "That's... an interesting thought, sir," he says, glancing at the others.


<Best> Nob thinks I deserve some kind of award!
<Best> Nob nearly makes hobbits lose their appetite, and with only one pose!
<Best> Boldibad says, "That's an accomplishment :)"
<Best> Miklo says, "that is hard to do!"
<Best> Arndisa says, "Wow. I must see this pose!"
<Best> Lango says, "almost lose it, but not quite."
<Best> Elrohir says, "Inconcievable."
<Best> Nob gives Thasto half the credit, for inspiration.
<Best> Finigrin says, "It's a feat, no mistake! XD"
<Best> Arndisa's stomach curdles. "Ulp."
<Best> Finigrin snickers.


Thasto shakes his head. 'There's something out there sure as rain, and we Northfolk mean to put a stop to it.' Thasto says, adding a sharp nod for emphasis.


Miklo suddenly smiles from ear to ear and pokes his pipe in Lango's direction. " I know! Maybe it was Lobelia's cooking! That's it! Her leftovers if you will!"


Lango laughs merrily, "Yes, Lobelia's place is the only place where I've ever seen leftovers! We always leave the plates clean at Budge Ford!"


[Nob] The passerby sniffs, offended, then hawks and spits. "That ain't no way to talk about food," he says sourly, sniffs again, and stumps on, his shoulders rigid and his face red.


Finigrin chuckles, releasing a bit of the nervous energy that's hitched up his shoulders and tightened his posture with all the talk of creatures. "Well, from what I've heard of her cooking, I'm not the least bit surprised! Perhaps leftovers're even more daunting a thought than the wolves."


Smoke pours from Mt. Doom as the Dark One's evil sorcery lags the game.
The smoke clears as good triumphs and the database saves.


Torebras approaches from the east.
Torebras has arrived.


Boldibad takes another puff on his pipe, and then coughs. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Proudfoot? You were talking about this before--I hope you don't plan on asking the Bolgers to do that dirty work--we don't even know what's really going on... IF anything," he says the last bit with emphasis as he looks from hobbit to hobbit in a skeptical way.


Thasto scowls all the more at Boldibad. 'I've already told you I wouldn't expect a Soft Tater such as yourself to put any effort inta anything of the like. You sit all cozy in your den and we'll go defend our livlihoods.'


Miklo mutters to no one in particular. "Soft taters, leftovers, makes a hobbit hungry it does."


Lango stands next to his cousin Boldibad in solidarity, "Soft tater?" He shakes his head and scrutinizes his stomach, "Of course, I don't suppose either of us is exactly cut out for fighting any, um, monsters... or even a wolf, perish the thought"


"Oi! Steady on, Mr. Proudfoot. No call for that, now is there?" Finigrin shifts his weight from foot to foot, growing a bit uneasy again as he considers something. "You know, if that pony doesn't come back in a bit, perhaps we should look for it. I hate to say it but if we can't find it -- or if we find bits of it..." Again, he looks a little green at the thought. "Well, it'd be proof that something foul's about, right? What do you reckon?"


[Nob] "...innerds!" floats back through the cool night air.


An enormous mouse comes flying out of the bushes, in pursuit of a small cat.


<Shirefolk> Nob snickers. You guys are crazy.


"Soft tater?" Boldibad begins to respond, but scowls instead, and turns toward the northwest again. He calls for his pony again, but then shifts his gaze toward the bushes. "Did you gentlehobbits hear something in the bushes over there?" he asks, his voice quivering suddenly.


Thasto says, "At any rate, my brother Todo and I are going to put a hunt together to track this thing. Y'all are welcome to join us. The more hands the merrier. And if it's something tasty. . ."


Lango is suddenly seized by a fit of coughing as the evening chill descends, "Darn... frog... got my throat again." He staggers toward the doctor's office, "I hope that doc is still open!"


Lango walks into the doctor's office.
Lango has left.


<Shirefolk> Lango says, "fun RP session!"
<Shirefolk> Thasto says, "Come back soon!"
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "Heck yeah, good times"
<Shirefolk> Finigrin says, "Thanks for the RP, Lango! :) Good times, indeed."


Brave hobbit that he is, Finigrin jumps as the cat scrambles across the yard. And the 'innerds' reminder doesn't do much to calm his nerves. "Something aside from the mouse? If you can call something that big a mouse! Perhaps that's our monster," he adds hopefully. "Not so sure about a hunt. Though if it comes down to it, I suppose. Perhaps."


"Tasty?" That last word is echoed by a new voice, as who should come wandering along the road but Torebras Bywater. He offers a polite smile to the gathered throng and exclaims, "Good evening, my fine sirs!"


Miklo nods towards Torebras and takes a deep puff on his pipe to keep it lit."Evening to you sir. Haven't seen any pony eating monsters on the road tonight have ye?"


<OOC> Nob says, "ok, I need to be going. Have fun!"


Finigrin turns to the new arrival and offers a polite nod of greeting. "Evening! Eh, don't get your hopes up. I doubt it's very tasty, whatever may -- or may not be! -- " (He's still clinging to that hope.) "out in the woods."


Boldibad shakes his head, "Just like cousin Lango to go off for a snack when trouble lurks in the bushes nearby." He says to Finigrin, "Or, perhaps another hobbit--that could be it. A hobbit trying to fool us!" He turns to the newcomer. "Ahh, there's Mr. Bywater--from Bree. What is your opinion of the so-called "monster" loose in the Shire?"


Nob has disconnected.


The bushes near the inn shake as the cat scampers around the corner in a big hurry.


"Ponies eating monsters?" Torebras' round face pales a little at that mis-repetition. At the mention of bushes, he gives the nearest ones a suspicious glare. "Ah, no, I'm afraid-" He stops. "That is, I'm glad to say I have seen no such creatures. Nothing like that in nice civilized parts such as here, is there?" The 'there' is a squeak, and the poor hobbit actually jumps half a foot in the air at the cat's rustlings.


Finigrin arches his eyebrows at Boldibad's suggestion. "A hobbit? What, doing away with innocent farm animals? Who'd do such a thing?" He shakes his head, faintly amused. "No, no. The other way around! Though that's a thought: What if it's another //pony// gone mad? You never know." He does his best not to jump when the cat streaks back around but still looks distinctly ruffled by the little thing's apparent terror.


Boldibad's jaw practically drops to the soil as he looks at Finigrin. "Sir, are you saying that... my Dash is--is the monster?!"


<OOC> Finigrin laughs! "I love how this whole scenario has spun away with wild paranoia. This is awesome. :D "


Thasto eyes the both of them. 'I don't know how the Hobbit is the Southtowns do things, but where I'm from, Hobbits don't up and mutilate others' animals!'


Miklo stifles a laugh once again at Finigrins comment about farm animals. "Master Brandybuck, you obviously have never eaten at the Sackville-Baggins table have you sir? That is truly doing away with innocent farm animals, and mutilating the results if you get my meaning." He shrugs after his statement and tries to smile innocently.


<OOC> You say, "Arg, I've been thinking of Fin as a Took this whole time"
<OOC> Finigrin says, "Oh snap! ;)"
<OOC> You say, "No offense ;)"


"Pray excuse me, gentlehobbits." Torebras looks from one face to the next, his gaze settling in the end on Boldibad as though the rotund Bolger were the only safe port in a storm. "Are you saying there has been an outbreak of pony madness in the Shire?"


<OOC> Finigrin says, "No offense taken! He's actually half and half. (Yeah... I was a bit of a noob when I created him and couldn't decide between the two. ;P ) So... I believe he was named for a Tookish uncle or... something. I forget."


Thasto eyes the Hobbits. 'You're mad, the lot of you.'


Miklo taps out his pipe nto his hand and brushes it off. Turning to Torebras he asks, "Pony-madness sir? Now that is a different animal all together. I have heard of such a thing. Ponies that mde off into the Old forest it was, and went mad I heard tell."


"Never had the dubious pleasure, no," Finigrin replies to Miklo, a grin splitting his face. "I'm just that lucky, I suppose! And with word of mouth such as that I can only hope that my luck holds out!" Thasto gets a shrug. As a son of both a Took and a Brandybuck it's hardly the first time he's been accused of madness, after all. Torebras gets a one-shouldered shrug. "That's one possibility. An outbreak would make more sense than assuming it's just Dash. Though the fact that he keeps running off for reasons unknown //is// pretty suspicious, I say."


Boldibad says to Torebras, "It sounds as if that's what Mr. Brandybuck has been saying. Of course, it's all just speculation, I suppose. But, surely, it couldn't be MY pony causing the problems, as ale-spotted as he is--perhaps Thasto is right. Perhaps."


Dash arrives from the northwest.
Dash has arrived.


Waymeet(#3504Rto)
    Waymeet, or 'Waymoot' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.
    Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.

Contents:
Dash(#21281aetM)
Torebras
Miklo
Thasto
Finigrin
Obvious exits:
 Town Hall Inn leads to Town Hall Inn.
 Brownlock Smial leads to Brownlock Smial Sitting Room.
 Market Place leads to Waymeet Market Place.
 East leads to Great East Road - Shady Glen.
 West leads to Great East Road - Hardbottle Turnoff.
 Northwest leads to West Farthing Road.
 South leads to Whitwell.
 Doctor's Office leads to Dr. North-Took's Office/Home.


Miklo tucks his pipe away and eyes the doorway to the inn. "Well , all this talk about eating and being eaten has me famished. You'll excuse me all." He heads towards the door and gives a quick wave over his shoulder to the crowd.


<OOC> Miklo says, "gotta eat RL!"


Miklo leaves the street, disappearing into the Town Hall Inn.
Miklo has left.


<OOC> Finigrin says, "Hopefully not pony!"
<OOC> Boldibad snickers


<Shirefolk> Miklo says, "That was a blast people! I will return later."
<Shirefolk> Boldibad says, "Later Miklo!"
<Shirefolk> Finigrin says, "Thanks for the RP, Mik! :) Catch you later!"


"Dear me, Mister Bolger," Torebras replies to the one familiar face. "Your animal /is/ rather ... well, highly strung." As if Torebras has ever hung around the poor beast long enough to find that out. "But ..." he pauses to glance back to the bushes from whence the cat had run, running a hand across his brow. "What problems?" He arches his brows toward Thasto and Finigrin.

His gaze follows Miklo as though he, too, is debating beating a hasty retreat.


Boldibad chuckles, "Yes, indeed, Mr. Bywater--and, if I'm not mistaken, there he comes! As calm as ever--I told you, Mr. Brandybuck!" He steps forward as Dash comes trotting along from the northwest, approaching the crowd of hobbits.


Finigrin offers the departing Miklo a wave and settles back into the conversation -- settles in as much as he can whilst eyeing the pony, now that it's returned. "Well, Mr. Proudfoot there knows considerably more about it all than I do." He nods to indicate Thasto. "But from the sounds of it, there's something up north that's been tearing up animals -- sheep and such."


================================= +SHIRE TIME =================================
RL (Arizona) Time is Sun May 01 15:38:31 2011 (+time).
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
IC Time is 00:55:33 on Monday, Winterfilth (October) 24, 1452 S.R.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Torebras jumps a step back at the sight of Dash. "Ah yes, there he is," he agrees unhappily. He sidles away, though the news of mysterious sheep-eaters brings him up short. "Sounds like trolls to me," he announces loftily to all. "Bree had trouble with them at one point - not during my tenure as Mayor, of course! They generally don't approach civilized lands."


"Well, burn the mushrooms--trolls, Mr. Bywater? I don't recall ever seeing such a thing in the Shire, of all places." He turns back to the pony after speaking, and attempts to lift himself into the saddle.


You climb up into the saddle. Use PHelp for commands.
Dash(#21281aetM)
> > > From Atop Dash < < <
Waymeet
    Waymeet, or 'Waymoot' as it is alternately known, is situated at the crossroads of the Great East and Sarn Ford roads. The two well traveled roads merge and form the central feature of Waymeet, its square. Well-trimmed topiary bushes adorn the square providing a nesting spot for lovely bluebirds and cardinals, and a large WELL rests in the center providing the only fresh drinking water for many miles around. Being the main crossroads of The Shire, there is almost always a crowd gathered, both local or from The Outside, as merchants come and go.
    Several small streets make up the town proper, essentially forming concentric rings around the central crossroads and square. A fashionable residential neighborhood consists of Hobbit burrows that have been excavated into a rather sizeable hill, but more simple holes and above ground homes make up the majority of the housing for what is most likely the second largest town in The Shire. However the thoroughfares all merge with the Great East Road heading east and west, while the road to Sarn Ford goes south, and the West Farthing Road leads northwest.


Ways to go:
Town Hall Inn
Brownlock Smial
Market Place
East
West
Northwest
South
Doctor's Office


From below, Torebras edges round a little more, so that Finigrin is between him and Boldibad's 'mad' pony. "Well, ah, I- that is-" He's clearly floundering. "I believe a stiff beating would do it. Generally it's the Big Folk who see to such matters, you know," he adds airily.


<Shirefolk> Finigrin says, "Meh. Looks like I'm going to have to split so lemme start working on a pose out. I should be back in a while though."


From below, "Well, I don't know about a //beating//. But one of the stalls out in the market'd just got a special crop of carrots in -- giant ones, these! Maybe he'll be a little more willing to behave if he has one or two in him. Let me just see if there're any left." And with that convenient excuse to put some distance between himself and the possibly-murderous pony, the painter starts off toward the marketplace.


Boldibad settles in on the saddle, and nods his head at Finigrin, "Good evening, Mr. Brandybuck." He nods again, to Torebras: "Goodbye, Mr. Bywater--I'm sure I'll see you again soon. Dash! Eastward!"

Dash begins off toward the east, but gradually turns and heads for the northwest. "Er--I'll take the long way home! Goodbye!"


Torebras makes an incoherent noise at Finigrin's words. "Ah - a pleasure to meet you, I'm sure," he stammers out. As Boldibad gives the pony the order to go east, Torebras heads firmly west.

Date added: 2011-05-01 18:15:51    Hits: 62
Powered by Sigsiu.NET RSS Feeds