Elendor Info

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

Release of a convicted feline

Tags: Brev,  Thomas,  Harry

Short Summary: A prisoner finds himself unexpectedly released when the Breeguard realize just how much it's costing to house and feed him
Date (real-life): 2010-10-20
Scene Location: Breeguard headquarters
Date (in-game): March 3051
Time of Day: Evening
Main Room

An old and battered desk sits facing the door. There is a wooden chair behind it, and two in front - all as aged as the desk. Two windows face the street, letting in both light and air (when the shutters are open), and a long rough bench runs along the wall to the left. At some point in the distant past, the walls had been white-washed cleanly, but now they are dingy and faded. Scarred wooden planks make up the floor and the ceiling is tall, and high enough to be out of range of people's heads. Torches hang in metal brackets, no doubt made by the town's metalsmiths. At the back of the room, just to the side of the desk (guarded by it, one might think, by its proximity) is a heavy wooden door.

Obvious exits:
Street and Door to the Hallway

================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Wed Oct 20 15:16:14 2010
Bree time: Midnight <02:48:42> on Sterday of Spring - March 24,1451
Moon Phase: Waning Crescent Moon

Breelands Weather                               
The spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The sky is clear and the moon shines brightly. The moon is above the horizon and in its waning crescent phase.

Evening has come to Bree, but the mildness of spring still lingers in the air. Inside the Breeguard headquarters the torches are already lit, and they flicker gently with each passing gust of wind (the place is alas not quite as draughtproof at it might be), sending shifting shadows across the untidy room that serves as office and guardroom.

The next breath of wind brings with it something less pleasant - the distinct odour of manure. And then the door opens and Brev stands there, his garments bearing witness to the fact that he's just finished mucking-out duty for Nob. He hardly needs to announce his presence; still, he clears his throat.

"GAWD!!" Thomas's head snaps up from his report, which he had been "writing." With his face on the paper, apparently. "Get that horse out of here!" he says, sniffing at the smell before he is fully awake.

"Horse?" Brev repeats, innocently. "Was I supposed to bring you one of those?" The diry southerner (tonight, at least, that title seems apt) gives Harry a nod and says mildly, "Good evening, Breeguard." There is a long pause before he adds, seemingly in afterthought, "and trainee."

Coming forward to stand before the desk (naturally the smell of horse comes with him), he says almost apologetically, "There was a matter I wanted to raise with the Breeguard. A matter of missing property - mine." One corner of his mouth twitches a fraction.

Thomas yawns, coming fully awake, his nose twitching at the man's pungent smell. "He ain't got no property. He's a convicted fel..fel...feline."

[Nob(#16122)] Harry either doesn't notice Brev's abrupt change of species, or he doesn't realize Thomas has said anything amiss. Either way, he says nothing, only turning his sour look on the boy for a minute, then looking back at Brev and wrinkling his nose. "What property?"

Brev, maintaining his air of dignity, doesn't deign to look at Thomas directly. "Every man has rights," he argues, still in that mild, easygoing tone. "And I can tell you that whatever I am, I'm not going mousing for you." That's a little more like his usual surly self.

He looks back to Harry and continues, "A dagger. Simple-looking thing, with a bone hilt. Now, I understand the Breeguard setting weapons in safekeeping. But it's my belief that that particular item is no longer in your store." His voice hardens a fraction. "And I'd like it back."

"Is too in our store! I have it on me for safekeeping, ever since you tried to steal it!" Thomas says, getting defensive. "Here it is, too!" He pulls it out of his belt, holding it up, though Brev would have to grab the bare blade to get it from him. 

"Don't want no mousin' from you. Cat can do that. But..but...I've been figuring," he says, messing in a pile of papers. "How much your imprisonment cost us."

[Nob(#16122)] Harry looks back and forth between the two, first nodding in agreement to Brev's reasonable summation of the matter, then nodding approval for Thomas's careful keeping of the dangerous weapon. He waits then to see what else the boy has to say.

Brev eyes exhibit number one. "Seems to me it's you who's doing the stealing," he answers in response, wise enough not to grab at a naked dagger-blade. "Is it in your regulations for trainees to take other people's property out of Breeguard storage without permission?"

A little pause to let Harry's brain process that particular query; and then he snorts. "How much it's cost you? I'll bet you have. It's cost you nothing, and free labour besides. Barn's all done save the thatching, and yon stables were never that clean in the days /I/ slept there. And if the stablemaster and farmer were paying you ... Made a tidy profit, have you?"

"Ain't made no money," Thomas says, waving the blade around as he gestures animatedly. "And you were sneaking in here trying to get this blade out of the desk! I caught you at it, red-handed, too! That ought to...you ought to be in prison another month."

"Only we can't afford it." He rustles some papers on his desk, pulling out a sheet. 'Half a copper penny a day to have enough wood to keep yer cell warm while you sleep here, then half a copper a day fer food n water to feed the prisoner. Plus mucking out the cell, that's another half a day. Let's see...fer a month, was it? Why, you owe us ten of these blades!"

[Nob(#16122)] "No, of course not," Harry says to Brev, frowning. He glowers at Thomas. "Trainee! Put that..." His frown deepens, and so does the sour look, which rapidly turns to horror. "Another /month/?" His chair legs come down on the floor with a thump, and the greed that had started to glitter in his eyes at Thomas's reckoning, vanishes. "No, no," he says hastily. "We'll just call it evens, shall we?"

Brev shakes his head impatiently at Thomas' first claim. "You did no such thing. Sprinkle the knife with soot and we'll see whose greasy fingermarks are on it. You're the one who pulled my own dagger on me, laddie - were I a less reasonable man, I might think you were trying to murder me." He pulls a shocked face, with reasonable success.

"And I owe you nothing," he hisses, eyes narrowing. "Save a clout on the ear for insolence - Kiern, what have you been /doing/ with the money, boy?"

The thump of Harry's chair recollects him to the situation in hand. "Fair enough," Brev agrees. "I can be out of town in the morning if that's what you'd like. Once I've got my property back," he adds hastily, as if it were only afterthought.

"I told you! I got no money!" THomas protests, even getting to his feet now. "Harry! He was in here when there was noone around! Trying to get his dagger back,and I keptit on me ever since! Ask me, he leaves us this dagger and we're even."

[Nob(#16122)] This sort of a brangle and just when he was enjoying a nice bit of a nap. Harry glares at them both - thieves, murderers, who knows what all's been going on! "Be much better round here if you do just that," he grunts, then snaps at Thomas irritably. "Yes, yes, no doubt he was. Just give it to him already, so he'll go away! There's no doubt the thing's his, is there?" He eyes the knife with loathing, and pats his own much-battered and very dull short sword with smug pride. "Don't know why anyone would want it anyways. Paltry thing."

Brev stands where he is, fists stolidly planted on hips and the aura of manure round him thickening by the moment. "I'm not leaving without my dagger," he says belligerently, his Common thickening somewhat as he glares at Thomas. "Why - there's brigands out there. Cut-throats who'd murder a man soon as look at him. If you want my blood on your hands, you might as well show the guts to do it directly."

At Harry's final remark he gives the man and his battered weapon sidelong glance. "All I can afford. Don't have the money for a fine swords like yours. Sides, it's got sentimental value."

"All right, all right." WIth a loud sigh, Thomas dumps the knife back onto the desk. "Sentimental whatever," he grumps. "Go...go on to wherever you are going."

[Nob(#16122)] Harry hmphs, but he gives his own, clearly superior, weapon a final pat and deigns to smile approvingly upon Thomas. "Well done, Trainee," he even says. "Sometimes, you got to do what isn't so pleasant in this here job." Puffing out his chest a bit, he adds kindly, "Take a bit of experience to know - you'll get there, lad, don't you worry."

With a short nod at Brev, he gestures expansively to the knife. "There you are then."

No sooner is said knife set down than Brev strides forward to pick it up (he's not limping, though he still walks a little stiffly). His fingers curl round the familiar hilt and he holds the blade up to the light, inspecting for nicks. "You'd best not have damaged it," he mutters softly under his breath in Thomas' direction.

At Harry's words he glances across and returns the nod with one of his own. "Thank you, Breeguard." He does not thank Thomas. "Do I - uh, have to sign for it?" For the first time a look of discomfort crosses his swarthy features.

Before him, on Thomas's desk, a streak of something brown and ..well, manurish-looking.. mars the surface of the report the Trainee had been 'writing' earlier.

[Nob(#16122)] "Sign?" Harry asks blankly. "Er. No, no. We'll, erm, waive that requirement." He smiles expansively.

Thinly disguised relief flits across Brev's features at that statement. "That's - uh, capital," he manages, then falls silent as he returns his favorite dagger to the formerly empty sheath hanging at his side. "I'll be on my way then. Pleasure doing business and all that." Briskly (before Thomas can think to stop him!) he strides toward the door and lets himself out.

The tiny, cramped cell will lie empty tonight. And what of Brev himself? Where will he go? Most likely he'll make his way to Caoimhe's place where his spear, his own (unsold) pony and an assortment off ill-gotten gains await ...

Date added: 2010-10-21 03:57:07    Hits: 69
Powered by Sigsiu.NET RSS Feeds