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Logs

Shire Road Trip III: The Wheelbarrow

Tags: Murray,  Boldibad

Short Summary: Boldibad and Murray have a brief discussion on the road, within the town of Bree.
Date (real-life): 2011-02-28
Scene Location: Center of Bree - Great East Road
Date (in-game): Sunday, April 23, 1452
Time of Day: Dawn
Weather: Pleasant
Logfile from Elendor.

GER: Centre of Bree
The Great East Road wraps itself around the bottom of Bree-hill. The Road bends northwest as it skirts around the base of the hill. Where the Road clears the hill, it straightens out and runs in a line toward the South Gate. To the northwest, a short distance along the Road, a large inn is visible. To the south, the gate stands open.
Contents:
Murray
Obvious exits:
 East leads to Stone Houses.
 West leads to Bree Market - East.
 NorthWest leads to At the Sign of the Prancing Pony.
 South (GER) leads to Inside the South Gate.


================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Mon Feb 28 16:40:45 2011
Bree time: Dawn <07:02:15> on Sunday of Spring - April 23,1452
Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon
===============================================================================
Middle-earth time is:
Dawn on Sunday, Day 23 of April.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 16:40:47 MDT on Mon Feb 28 2011.


|Murray is looking at you.|


As the sun works its way up from below the line of buildings of the town, several people are already up and going about their daily affairs. Boldibad is one of those who walk through the road. He seems to be looking around in confusion, as though he were lost... The hobbit stops to peer down the road going west.


One of the people already awake, is pushing a wheelbarrow in front of him. It creaks as he ventures past, but all of a sudden, the wheel pops out of its hinge. This results in the wheelbarrow tipping over, making a loud crash as various tools spill out on the street. Not soon after the noise settles, a groan from the wheelbarrow's master can be heard; "Not again, I say! Cursed be this old thing."


Boldibad jumps with a start as the wheelbarrow is spilled near his present location. He looks around in surprise, and then eyes up the thin human who had been pushing it. Hesitantly, he decides to approach. "Excuse me," he says, "is everything alright here?"


"No 'tis not, at all" snaps the tall, unfortunate driver in a quick, angry tongue. His gaze has not yet moved from the wheelbarrow, but he squats down by it now, picking up his equipment one by one.


Boldibad clears his throat, and picks up a couple of light items. "Well," he says, "you might consider using a horse-drawn cart, you know. You won't find a fellow like me pushing one of these through the Shire." He smiles politely, "By the way, the name is Bolger--Boldibad Bartold Bolger, at your service. Perhaps you could use a hand..."


This sudden introduction shifts Murrays gaze from the wheelbarrow and over to the hobbit. Some of the irritation noticed in Murrays face disappears, as he eyes the small figure, and he stops what he is doing, to return the introduction: "Master Bolger, of the Shire? Ah, well, a newcomer to Bree perhaps?" he nods towards Boldibad, in an awkward fashion before continuing: "My name's Murray. Excuse me if I was rude, before"


Boldibad chuckles a bit, setting the items down on the overturned wheelbarrow. "No need for that," he says, "I would have been a bit annoyed myself, in your position. A newcomer--you might say that, though I have visited a few times in the past. I'm here with some pipeweed, you see... but, I'm not sure how I am ever going to return home." He wrinkles his nose, "I've had a bit of tragedy, myself, you see." He leans over, pretending to inspect the broken wheel with some experience.


"I see, well, in any a way, welcome to Bree once again, I suppose," continues Murray in a more friendly way. His hands are searching through a pouch hanging from his belt, and he finally produces what looks like a small, bent nail; "I like to keep an extra with me, as a fix-her-up, just in case. I know it's silly, I haven't fully repaired her probably, but it seems to always drift away from my mind before I get around to it." Murray mumbles, as he fiddles the nail into position, holding the wheel again. "Oh, and that sounds dreadful, Sir, but how shouldn't you be able to return to your native soil?"


Boldibad looks on curiously as Murray fits the nail into place. "Are you sure that will hold it, sir? Well, nevermind--I'm no farmer, or cartwright, or anything of the sort. I wouldn't know the best way to go about that sort of thing." He straightens up dusts off his waistcoat. "Ah," he says, lowering his gaze momentarily. "It's my pony--the old thing... died--in the Pony's stable. If I cannot find someone willing to sell me a beast, then I may be here for a while." He says the last bit with a touch of disappointment.


Murray stands up, and raises the old wheelbarrow once again. Though a bit rickety looking, it stands. "Oh, that's a tragedy, alright. I'm sorry on your behalf, am I.." Murray pauses, as if struck by thought, "Clearly, though, Bree is not the worst of towns to be stuck in, then. As you told me, already, you are here to sell pipeweed, although business can be tough on you, I imagine. But mustn't you be able to buy yourself, or at least so, rent a pony, from the money that you do earn?"


Boldibad clears his throat, "Er, of course I am able! I'm a Bolger, after all!" He chuckles a bit in an attempt to lighten his statement. "Only," he says cautiously, "I have not met anybody willing to sell me an animal that is up to that task of hauling a wagon, with three hobbits of respectable weight, all the way back to the Shire. Er, although this land is--nice, I cannot be too careful! I am still considered an Outsider, and there certainly are people around here who would not hesitate to cut me a bad deal."


"Best be careful, my little master. You're right at that point." Murray puts on a sort of concerned smile, as he says this, "And I can understand that the pipe-weed business in Bree is getting alot of competition, these days..I saw a newly arrived wagon, green of color, just the other day. It's setting up as a tobacco shoppe, it is."


Boldibad strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Would you be referring to Mr.... well, the only name he gave me was Windle. Mr. Windle?"


"Ah, most possible," says Murray, with a thoughtful expression, "but I'm afraid that I did not look properly at the sign, there, so I guess it could be Windle as good as anybody?" he adds, "Ah but it's worth adding, that it was a hobbits wagon, of course. Very small, for my size, at least." chuckles Murray.


Boldibad tsks with a shake of his head. He pulls out a medium-length pipe, which must already be packed with pipeweed, and holds it as if it were lit. "Well, if so, then that one is a strange fellow, indeed. Not that I'm one to gossip, but, he was most eager to do business when we began our conversation, but suddenly refused, and walked away--before I had even mentioned anything about money, or prices." He pulls a flint-n-steel from his waistcoat, and puts a spark to the weed in the pipe. "At any rate," he continues, with a cloud of smoke all around him, "I would gladly abandon my hopes of selling the stuff, if I could only find a way back home. Would you happen to know anybody who might be willing to sell me a pony, Mr. Murray?"


The thin figure of Murray sniffs as tobacco smoke fills the air, and smiles briefly down at the hobbit. Soon after, though, wrinkles spread across Murrays face again. "I take it, you and your companions are staying at The Pony, no?"


Boldibad nods his head, "Yes, indeed we are. I'm travelling with a Mr. Thasto Proudfoot, and Thilo Bracegirdle, as a matter of fact. We are quite fond of Mr. Butterbur, though the Prancing Pony is certainly no Green Dragon... he is always happy to take messages, it seems--you might mention it to him, if you have any news for us."


This presentation of Boldibad's companions brings forth a sparkle in Murray's eyes. His full attention is directed at the hobbit, and he chuckles quite heartily: "Ah, I wish I had followed my gut, then, Master Bolger. I say, what a coincidence. I met said Thasto Proudfoot, one or two nights ago. He bumped, head first, into on-comming traffic and fell to the ground, bewildered. I was out, looking through the hardware shops of the market district, for the culprit here,", at this, Murray points to the old wheelbarrow and grins.

"And I was just about to suggest, that he was one of your companions, you comming from the Shire and all", Murray adds.

"I feel sorry for the hobbit, really," Murray mumbles, "He might have hit his head harder, now that I think of it. Nob, a hobbit of Bree, offered him some tasty buns, and a drink at the Pony, but the good Thasto just hurried away,".


Boldibad chuckles, "You don't say? Well, we can't expect the Proudfoots to watch where they are going, I suppose. He is a good enough fellow, though, I must say." He looks about, "I haven't seen him in some time, myself, as a matter of fact." He sighs, "I will be sure to have him get in touch with you, when I ever find him--unless he's lying in the road, somewhere, with too many bumps on his head!"


 "Please, do. He seemed a good fellow, yes, although he was in a hurry." Murray scratches his stubbles, and looks around him; the street is getting busier and busier with people slowly bustling about. Whether they are heading for work, out on errands or simply enjoying a stroll, they start to fill the road considerably more than before the hobbit and the man met on the street.

 "I say, Mr Bolger, have you tried talking to the good Mr Butterbur, or the stablemaster at the Pony, about your situation?"


Boldibad hrms, "Well, I did try, but... well, the man is always so busy. And, as for the stablemaster, I haven't been able to locate him. Would he not be Mr. Bob, or am I mistaken? If so, that would explain why I cannot find him in the stable!"


"Aye, Bob's the stable boy, at least. Not sure if he's in command of lending out the horses, though?" says Murray, "I must admit, I'm fairly 'new' in town my self. That is, I've visited quite some times in my past, as yourself, but I moved here only recently. I'm afraid I don't know everyone, just yet..."


Boldibad smiles, "Ah! You must be from one of the surrounding villages. Combe, perhaps? Or is it Archet from which you hail?"


 Murray nods, "Combe indeed, I'm a Thistlewool, my brother Edgar still has the homestead there."


Boldibad bows politely, "Mr. Thistlewool then--a pleasure to make your acquaintance (again!)" He nods, "Well, I was just on my way to the market. Some of the food they serve in the inn is rather greasy, so I was planning to buy some fresh fruit and such, for my companions and myself. Do come and see us at the Prancing Pony, if you hear anything about a pony."


Murray nods and sends forth a bony hand for the hobbit to shake. "Good to meet you, Sir. And I will try to contact Edgar, regarding the horse situation in Combe, maybe there's one for sale there?" he smiles, "We might be seeing each others again, for a drink or a smoke at the Pony, then!"

The sun rises over the hill, as Murray picks up his wheelbarrow and trots away, heading towards the city walls.


Boldibad perks up a bit, after shaking hands. "Indeed? Edgar? Well, that would be splendid, sir. Perhaps we might take a ride out there soon--I would pay for your trouble." He nods his head and begins to continue on his way, "Good morning to you!"


"And good morning to you, too. I hope we will both have a better day, than our morning, Sir", Murray returns.

Date added: 2011-02-28 21:26:07    Hits: 63
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