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Manor Robbery

Tags: Birky,  Shirky,  Tomlin,  Lobelia,  Lotho

Short Summary: A pair of bandits sneak (not so quietly) into the Sackville home, and are forced into a brief standoff with the umbrella-wielding Lobelia, and others of the household.
Date (real-life): 2010-09-24
Scene Location: Sackville Manor

[+TIME] Middle-earth time is:
Daytime on Sterday, Day 7 of January.
Execute the +TIMEFRAME command for year information.

Real time is: 16:41:27 MDT on Fri Sep 24 2010.

Sackville Manor
An old-fashioned hobbit-hole that was probably glorious in its prime. The paint on the walls is a bit faded, and peeling in parts, and the style and pattern of the curtains is outdated. The smell of baked goods is overpowering, but a keen nose can recognize a pungent odor of boiled cabbage. The pine table in the center of the main room is covered with an orange plaid table-cloth. Some silver spoons, appearing to be of the finest quality, seem just a tad out of place in this atmosphere, and rest on the kitchen counter with the other silverware. The master bedroom belongs to the infamous Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, and her darling son Lotho's room is across the hall. Many smaller rooms for servants are located off a narrow corridor.
Obvious exits:
 Master Bedroom leads to Lobelia's Room.
 Lotho's Room leads to Lotho's Room.
 Out leads to Sackville.

As the dawn breaks upon the eastern horizon of the pleasant village of Sackville, it spreads eagerly over the previous night's snowfall; twinkles and sparkles racing all over the wintry meadows and orchards. But at this time of year few are up at such an hour, for no plough tills a snow-covered field, and no cock dares brave the chill to crow in the new day, and so the hobbits of Hardbottle and its hamlets sleep peacefully.

All, that is, save one servant in the Manor House of Sackville. Up and about already, wrapped in a blanket a tousle-haired fellow pokes idly at the fireplace of the house in an attempt to kindle some warmth for the other occupants when they wake.

[Nob(#16122)] Few are up, but there are some! And very grumpy about the snow, too. "Shut up!" comes a hissed whisper outside. "You shut up! Yer the one makin' all the racket!"

So little noise is there within the stately old hobbit hole, that the whispers carry indeed; perhaps they are gruffer and less subtle than those to which hobbits are accustomed. The tousle-haird servant lifts his head, blinks warily, ere he sets his hands on his hips and steals toward the front door.

A hatch at his eye-level is carefully drawn back, and he peers out into the snowy morning.

[Nob(#16122)] He will not see much - save snow. The whisperers - if there were any! - are not here. But along the edge of the hillside, where windows open out of the smial, two men wrestle with a latch. Silently, for once. It springs open, and the first starts to boost the second inside.

They are silent for a moment; for as the second man is helped in through the window, he teeters there for a moment. And promptly falls with a heavy thud on the floor inside. There is a small muffled curse of irritation.

A few moments longer does the servant watch the wintry sight outside, before he shrugs and closes the hatch; returning then to his fire.

Meanwhile, as the two Men attempt to enter the dwelling, they may or may not be dismayed by what they find there. A four-post bed dominates the room, though by the looks of it it has seen better days, and with various other nic-nacs littering the chamber it seems to be the room of a lady. But the sound of their entrance, which clumsy, does not alert the occupant entirely; a loud series of snores coming frmo beneath the covers. The snores fade, but a sleepy, irritated voice sounds groggy indeed as it shouts out:

"Tomlin! You wool-headed lout! Keep it down until I'm ready to get up, or by my word lad, you'll be out on your ear!"

[Nob(#16122)] Birky stops dead, half in the window, half out. But what's to do? He shrugs, and clambers the rest of the way in, a little more gracefully than his cohort, and pulls the window shut behind him. It's cold out there! He scowls at the first bandit, rolling his eyes as if to say - idiot! Can't even climb in a window without messing it up! And starts to tiptoe towards the doorway.

Heaving himself off the floor, Shirky seizes the opportunity to rub his rear, and he shoots a glare at his companion. But then he shrugs, beginning to follow after Birky, taking extra care to avoid putting too much weight on any creaky floorboards. The bed is given a slightly nervous glance.

But the cries did not go unnoticed, for as the sound of nervous feet tramps closer from outside the door, there is a timid knock.

"Yes?" hollers the voice from beneath the covers. "What now, you blockhead? Didn't I just tell you to keep it down?!"

[Nob(#16122)] Birky's eyes widen, and he shakes his head in disbelief. Then he makes a shooing motion - you shut the old lady up, I'll stand by the door, and whack him on the head when he comes in! He lifts a nice bludgeon he is holding in one hand by way of demonstration.

Shirky stops dead at the knocking, and his head snaps round as the voice comes from the covers again. And then, clasping his sweaty fingers about his own club, he tiptoes awkwardly over to the bed. There he stands for a moment, and then with a nod to Birky, starts to lift up his weapon.

Meanwhile, a worried voice on the other side of the door replies to the one from under the coveres; muffled slightly by the wood. "But, madam," says 'Tomlin', "I didn't make any noise.. I heard a bump on the floor from your room! I wanted to make sure you're alright.."

There is a sniff from beneath the covers at this, before slowly they are drawn down, revealing a mass of greying hair tucked back with a head-band, then a pair of narrowed, anxious eyes. These blink in horror as they espy Shirky above them, and at once the blankets are thrown down as the lady beneath them looses a shrill, piercing scream!

[Nob(#16122)] Birky grips his club, lifting it on high, and staring with grim determination at the door - waiting for it to burst open!

The second bandit is not looking at that door. Rather he is a bit distracted with the lady screaming in front of him. Shirky gives a shout of his own, and takes a step away, turning his club at an angle overhead. "Aah, quiet, 'madam'! Or I'll make yer be instead."

But the lady-hobbit doesn't quit her clamour at all, and instead her gaze turns angry! Out snaps a slightly wizened arm to her bedside, snatching up a pointy-tipped umbrella, and in a wave of blankets she springs from her bed. Waving ther umbrella about as though a dread weapon of legend, her shrill voice shakes with outrage as she rails against Shirky.

"Intruders! Louts and ruffians! What do you want? Tomlin!"

And poor Tomlin bursts then into the room, blinking and pulling to a halt at the sight of Shirky facing down his mistress. Alas for the servant, he has not yet spotted Birky...

[Nob(#16122)] Alas for Tomlin. Birky brings his club down hard - not quite so hard as he would for another man - not all that hard at all, really, in the general relativity of such things - but plenty hard enough to get a poor hobbit out of the way.

"Yer jools and expensive things," answers Shirky, before he frowns and then seems to decide to not bother arguing. Even as his partner moves to strike the servant, he brings his own club to whack against one of the bed posts in a bid to perhaps bring the top falling down...or at least intimidate the lady-hobbit. He does eye the umbrella cautiously.

A gasp then as the 'madam' watches Tomlin slump to the floor, and her hand flies to her chest. But quickly she rallies, squinting up at the ruffian before her, and pokes out the point of her umbrella to Shirky's knee.

"Just who do you think you are? Do you know who I am? -I- am Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, and my son will take care of you scruffy oiks, don't you worry! Lotho! Lotho!"

[Nob(#16122)] "Yeah!" grunts Birky enthusiastically. (Can you grunt enthusiastically? Apparently Birky can!) He grins toothily at the hobbitlady. "Now you just hands over the sparklies and nobody gots to get hurt."

The bed assault ceases as the umbrella flashes out, and Shirky doubles over, cursing and muttering as he rubs his knee. "Don't care who yer are!" And he gives Birky a pointed look, nodding at the doorframe when he straightens up again. "You stay there, and handle that 'tough'-guy when he comes a lookin'." From the pack on his person, the bandit produces a sack...though at the moment it is unclear if this is for stuffing riches into, or to quiet Lobelia.

Lobelia is seems is running on the strength of outrage, and even as Shirky bends over she strides forth to deliver a whap of her umbrella upon the Man's lowered head, if she may.

Meanwhile, without the bedroom, there is the sound of rushing feet and a voice calling out in reply: "Mother? What's going on?"

[Nob(#16122)] Birky nods and grins wider, turning back to the door, and shoving his foot at Tomlin to move him out of the way.

Well, that concludes the decision. And as the umbrella thumps painfully over his head, Shirky staggers back for an instant, than scowls. The sack is raised and he puts a determinded foot forward, to try and bring the bag down over her head.

But long have Menfolk ignored the hobbit-folk, and forgotten it seems some of their nature, for Lobelia moves quickly and darts aside the sack as it descends. Nimble, even for her age the Madam of the Manor thwacks her umbrella once more out towards Shirky's kneecap. "How dare you?" she cries again, weilding her umbrella mightily. "You just get out, or by thunder I'll give you what-for!"

And her son, it seems, approaches the doorway, for his voice is a good deal closer as it asks: "M-m-mother? Are you alright? What's the matt--Aiee!"

It seems Lotho has spotted the slumped figure of Tomlin, so recently shoved into view, and there comes the sound of feet running away down the corridor.

[Nob(#16122)] Birky, cheated of his opportunity to whack another hobbit, peers out of the door and stares down the hallway disappointedly. Then he shrugs his shoulders. "Hurry it up, would you, Shirky?" he grumbles. "I bet there's some good grub in this here place, too."

Nimble indeed, and far too nimble for the clumsy man. Shirky makes a jerking turn as the lady moves aside, and fortunately this lets the umbrella graze against his leg rather than hitting it directly. Unfortunately this motion causes his sack to get caught on that umbrella, and there is a brief tug-o-war. At last, as the new voice comes in through the door, he abandons the bag, and takes a few hurried steps nearer to Birky. "Alright, alright, let's go."

And Lobelia, her umbrella still caught on the bag and tussling with the Man, is sent careening backward. Her feet trip over the prone figure of her servant, tumbling her downward, and with a -crack- her head hits the doorframe. Down she goes, her umbrella falling from her fingertips, lying still and unconscious upon the floor beside Tomlin.

[Nob(#16122)] Birky gapes at the hobbits, laid out at his very feet, then shrugs again. Such is life! So sad! "Come on then, I misdoubt me that other feller, the one as run off, he's probly gone to fetch help." Help. He looks again at the hobbits and snorts.

"Better be quick and snatch whatever we's want then," Shirky grunts, offering a satisfied sniff as Lobelia goes unconscious. Then, stepping over the two lying forms, he slips off into the hallway. "Yer comin?"

[Nob(#16122)] "Right," grunts Birky. He heads down the hall at a fairly good clip, snatching random things off shelves and walls in passing.

The second man does likewise, though he also succeeds in knocking quite a few items off the walls and tables as he goes along. "I don't got me sack now. You bring one we can fill up?" asks Shirky.

[Nob(#16122)] "No," Birky says irritably. "You brought the sack. What'd you want to go and drop it for?" But he stops, and fiddles around in his own small bag. At last, saying, "No, I ain't got nothing, you better go back and get it."

There is the slam of a door, somewhere within the Manor. It seems either Lotho has left, or is holed up somewhere.

"Fine, fine," grumbles the other, and he turns back around. The slamming door gives him pause, but quickly Shirky is off again, disappearing into the previous room. There comes a faint thudding sound, and when next he comes into view again, he is muttering and rubbing his head. "Why their doorframes got ter be so low? Hit me head, I did." But his raises his right hand to wave about the reclaimed bag.

[Nob(#16122)] "Hold it out here," Birky commands, his hands full of stuff.

With a grunt, still patting the bump on his forehead, Shirky holds out the sack. He tosses in his own things that he has stolen thus far.

Date added: 2010-09-24 22:52:52    Hits: 80
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