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Shire Road Trip II: Tough Customer

Tags: Windle,  Boldibad

Short Summary: Windle and Boldibad engage in business negotiation at the Prancing Pony Inn.
Date (real-life): 2011-02-26
Scene Location: Prancing Pony Inn, Bree
Date (in-game): Monday - April 17,1452
Time of Day: 8am

Common Room
This large and rectangular room serves the purpose of Common Room for the Prancing Pony. Large windows along the western end of the room peek out over the Great East Road which runs outside the Inn. There are long tables with bench seats for the patrons in the centre of the room. Nestled into the wall is a large fireplace with several bundles of wood piled next to it. Sunlight streams through the windows to mingle with the smoke that floats above the ceiling beams, and provide an odd sort of illumination that, even in daylight, doesn't quite reach the corners. The lamps which hang down are presently unlit.
<OOC> Type PHELP for help using the menu at the Pony.
Dart Board
Obvious exits:

Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Monday, Day 17 of April.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.
Real time is: 17:23:03 MDT on Sat Feb 26 2011.

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Sat Feb 26 17:23:05 2011
Bree time: Early Morning <09:09:15> on Monday of Spring - April 17,1452
Moon Phase: New  Moon

Boldibad sits at a small table near the back of the room, with a pitcher and a couple of plates filled with various food items before him. He glances up at the small, chattering crowd every once in a while, but generally seems to be keeping to himself.

A small, lithe hobbit enters the common room. He walks up to the counter and orders a light ale. He then takes a seat at a nearby table and begins conversing with a few of his friends.

Boldibad moves to pour himself a glass from the pitcher, but seems to find that it is empty. Sighing, he stands, moving his napkin from his lap to his seat, and moves toward the bar. "I'll have a new pitcher, please," he says over the morning racket.

A surprisingly lithe hobbit with ash blonde hair stands before you. He appears to be just a bit under three feet. He has hazel green eyes and slightly pointed ears. His nose is pointed and his skin lightly tanned. His clothes consist of a black waistcoat with gold buttons, a forest green jacket and brown trousers.

At the sound of a Shirefolk accent, Windle looks about interestedly. "Wait a minute for me.", he says to his friends as he gets up from the table. Carefully, he makes his way over to the Shire-hobbits table. "Excuse me?", he inquires of the pitcher-wanting, "Do you happen to be from the Shire?"

As Boldibad returns to his table with a sloshing pitcher of ale, he looks over the inquiring Bree-hobbit, and puts on a polite smile. He sets down the pitcher, and bows before Windle. "Indeed, my friend," he says with a flourish. "From a little place called Budge Ford, to be exact. Boldibad, at your service--Boldibad Bartold Bolger!"

"Ah!", exclaims Windle, "I have heard of you. You are a seller of pipeweed, if I understand correctly?"

"By the way, my name is Windle. I am a merchant specializing in pipeweed.", Windle adds hurriedly.

Boldibad straightens his waistcoat as a feeling of pride obviously washes over him. "You have indeed? Well! I suppose, even in the Bree-lands, I have done some memorable deeds... and, yes, Mr. Windle--er, well yes and no. At one time, I was in the pipeweed business, but... well, I simply don't see any real need to work anymore. I do have some pipeweed for sale, however--you see, an acquaintance of mine, Mr. Thilo Bracegirdle, has entrusted me with a small supply. He is a fine trader, but doesn't seem to have much luck in these lands--he's a bit shy around your Big-Folk."

Windle puts on a broad smile at the mention of pipeweed for sale. "Yes, indeed you have.", says the bright-eyed hobbit, "Well-known about these parts, you are." Windle pauses, as if thinking. "It just so happens, I am running low on Old Toby...you don't happen to have some for sale, do you? If so, I would be quite interested..."

Boldibad straightens with a barely audible 'ahem.' He pours himself a glass of ale, and takes his seat again. "Well, I have some 'Toby... but, it isn't for sale, I'm afraid."

"Ah, not for sale... That is too bad. Perhaps I should seek buisness elsewhere... It was nice meeting you, Mr. Boldibath? Best of luck." Windle says with sigh, as he turns towards his table.

Boldibad takes a sip from his ale, and then looks up quickly as Windle walks away. "Mr.--er, Windle! Where are my manners--I forgot to offer you a glass of ale!"

Boldibad pours another glass of ale, and continues, "You didn't let me finish, sir. I have something other than the Toby. Have a seat, perhaps you would be interested. And, the name is Boldibad, by the way--Boldibad Bolger."

"Ah, that is most kind of you, Mr. Boldibad, most kind indeed. I believe I will have a drop or two. Thank you, Mr. Boldibad!" Windle says with a pleasant smile as he takes a seat. "Now, about that other pipeweed?"

Boldibad chuckles, "Of course. Well, you see the only reason I cannot sell the Old Toby is that I brought it along to smoke. I can see by the gold buttons on your waistcoat that you are a hobbit who can do business, but I am afraid I am unwilling to sell you a partially emptied barrel. What I do have is some of the finest Southlinch!"

"Well, I do not deal in such /vulgar/ substances as Southlinch. I do know a number of other merchants who might wish to deal in that a variety of pipeweed. You don't happen to have any other varieties available, do you?"

Boldibad cocks an eyebrow, "I beg your pardon? Vulgar?" He seems to get a rise from this, and laughs for a moment. "Well! You sound just like a Hornblower, I must say. But, am I not correct in saying that the Bree-folk pay top coinage for the Southlinch variety? After all, and you will pardon me for saying so--is it not better even than the good varieties native to Bree?"

Nob enters the Common Room through the open doorway.
Nob has arrived.

<OOC> Windle says, "Oh"
<OOC> Windle says, "Nob!"
<OOC> You say, "Hey Nob"
<OOC> Nob watches a bit. :) May or may not jump in.
<OOC> You say, "Nob's just here to make sure we don't mess up the bar"
<OOC> Boldibad ;)
<OOC> Nob says, "yeah."
<OOC> Nob says, "Pay for everything you get, etcetc! ;)"
<OOC> Boldibad grins

Windle looks a bit annoyed at this declaration. "While it is true that many /other/ merchants will buy such a low species of pipeweed, I do not. My Wagon deals only in the finest and best of all varieties of pipeweed, directly imported from the Shire. Everything I buy is imported from the Shire."

Boldibad begins to retort, but stops and nods his head thoughtfully. "Fair enough--I can respect that. You are a hobbit who knows his pipeweed. Very well, but I'm afraid that's all I have--I can sell you the Old Toby, but... well, you know that it isn't as inexpensive as Southlinch."

Boldibad takes a sip from his glass.

"After considering, I believe that I would benefit best from buisness elsewhere. Thank you for your time, Mr. Boldibud. I wish you the best of luck in selling your wares Goodbye." Windle rises from the table, smiles a terse smile and walks away, back to his table.

Boldibad shrugs, "Very well. Well met, Mr... Mr. Windle."

Date added: 2011-02-26 20:58:08    Hits: 39
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