TOR2: T'was the Eve of Midsummer

[Jon]

Periwinkle nods to Ragnarr.
”Yes, I forgot. I have learned more of Lake town, Dale and the lonely mountain from you than Mister Bilbo ever told me, and that’s the truth.”
Her eyes lands on the plate of bacon in from of her.
“Oh, thank you!”
Swiftly, she unsheathes a thin dagger and spears a thick slice of crispy meat, then shoves it into her mouth. Chewing happily, she exclaims “Butterburs breakfast bacon is the best!”
Suddenly Periwinkle goes all rigid, staring over Ragnarr’s shoulder.
“Look! It’s ‘im!”
Then she stares up at Ragnarr in wide-eyed horror.
“No! Don’t look!”
She slides down on her chair until her freckled nose is barely visible over the table’s edge.
“It’s the... it’s the ranger I told you about,” She whispers, her ears now noticeably pink. “The one who saved me from the wolves! Targon. Of course I remember his name!”
She dares a quick look towards the tall, broad shouldered dunadan in the corner, but quickly looks back at Ragnarr again.
“Hey, stop that smirk!” She hisses. ”I don’t know what you’re thinking, but nothing improper happened! On the contrary, he was the real gentleman.”
She fidgets with her blouse and skirt, fruitlessly trying to smooth out wrinkles and brush off dirt and smudges. Then looks up at Ragnarr again.
“Why are you laughing? Oh no, he isn’t looking, is he?”
Desperately, Periwinkle wipes blueberry smears and bacon fat from her chin and claws furiously at her hair to free it from twigs, straws and chaff.
“Stop laughing, Ragnarr, you’ll make him look, and I’m...“ her whole face is now peony red, “I’m not presentable at all!”

[Wbweather]

Hugh locked up the door of his cabin wondering if he would be coming back anytime soon. He had made arrangements with one of his brother-in-laws to watch over the place just in case he were to suddenly find himself off on an adventure. There was unlikely to ever be a better time to find an suitable adventure than this Midsummer Ever festival. He had heard that old Bilbo Baggins himself was going to show up this year. If he had to, he would walk right up to the hobbit and introduce himself, explain how he wanted to take off into the wide world in search of his own way in the world, something bigger than the ordinary life of an ordinary man from Bree. Certainly the old hobbit would point him in the right direction seeing how earnestly he wanted to follow in the path of fabled Burglar of Bag End.

He made his way through town, the bustle of the crowd making his heart pound and his imagination run free. Certainly there was some party of dwarves who could use the help of his capable hands. Maybe some men from far off Dale, or even one of the fabled noblemen of Gondor, would be looking for more members for their venture.

There it was, the Pony. He had been in here a million times in his life, but today this old inn was going to change his life forever. Certainly it was going to. His family already thought he had gone a bit mad. The last thing he wanted was to return home and show them that he just didn’t have what it took to leave this town.

The door creaked open, a cloud of fragrant pipeweed smoke rolled out followed by the scent of rich ale and roasting meat that made his mouth water. The common room was unusually full for this time of day. Men, hobbits and dwarves sat huddled in groups throughout. He looked at them at each in turn, trying to find one that looked promising to approach.

Seeing a familiar face, a young hobbit named Hartley Sandheaver who was drawing up flagons of ale at the bar, he made his way over and got himself one and then stood, not quite knowing what to do next. So he took a seat next to a couple of dwarves and tried to eavesdrop on their conversation.

[RorytheRomulan]

Fargrim takes a scone and bites into it. His eyes shine a little and he nods, and after swallowing he says "Very good indeed!" He sets the scone on the edge of his plate and washes the sweetness down with a sip of ale, then tucks his beard in as he lifts a spoonful of beans to his mouth. "We ought to seize the chance if we meet a baker willing to trade their spices. I daresay your father would be pleased."

[Muskrat]

Vidar nods. "That is a good idea. We can ask who made these fine items when things get a little less busy here."

[ManWithDoor]

The dunedain sees a flurry of spastic motion as he gets up to get another drink, and curiously glances over as he carefully eases himself between the tables to not knock anyone aside. As he passes he looks down and blinks, his head cocking in thought. "Mrs ... Proudfoot, wasn't it? I hope you and yours are well." His voice is deep but quiet, not carrying far as if his words are couched to disturb others as little as his movement does.

[Jon]

Round eyed, Periwinkle stares up in the face of the tall dunadan, then on shaky legs she stands up on her chair and, after steadying herself, makes a deep curtsy, her head bowed and hands holding out her worn dress at the sides. Somehow the scruffy, scrawny hobbit girl takes on a posture radiating of unexpected dignity and respectability.
“Suilad, Targon, man of the west. Mae govannen hir nin.”
She looks up, cheeks still flaming but much more composed now, despite feeling the eyes of not just Targon, but the whole of the tavern on her.
“May I express thanks on behalf of all the people of the Shire, for the service you and your friends are doing us. We are forever in your debt.”
She curtsies again, then Periwinkle smiles a shy smile and the spell is broken.
“It’s truly an honor to meet you again, Targon. May I introduce you to my good friend Ragnarr, son of Gautarr, a man of the far Esgaroth?”

OOC

I rolled courtesy just for the fun of it and got an extraordinary success. Combined with the messenger’s distinctive feature folklore she remembered some sindarin greetings though she knows very little of the language itself. Also, if Gilraen hear Periwinkle’s thanks, she may prompt Periwinkle to repay a bit of that debt by accepting Gilraen’s quest/mission/thing.

[ManWithDoor]

The Ranger blinks at the little woman as she greets him in sindarin. His expression looks uncomfortable as she thanks him for his service, and he looks down for a moment before blanking his expression. "You are a lady of hidden talents Mrs. Proudfoot. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, and to meet Ragnarr as well." He smiles at the man of Esgaroth, extending his hand in greetings.

OOC

I thought he was your husband, not just your 'good friend'?

[Jon]

OOC

Ahaha, no, they are just friends. Ragnarr already has a wife, and Periwinkle is young, wild and free

[Wbweather]

Watching them apparently discuss the pastries they are eating, Hugh decides to try to stile up a conversation with the two dwarves. “Enjoying your time here? Have you been in Bree long? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but it is nice to get news from the outside world.”

[Muskrat]

Vidar looks up at Hugh and smiles warmly. He then briefly stands and makes a short bow. "Vidar, son of Vali of the Blue Mountains at your service. We arrived just yesterday, but I travel a lot and have passed through Bree many times. It is a pleasant place to stay." He pats his stomach. "With good food." He looks at Hugh curiously. "It's not often the folk of Bree are curious about what happens any further away than the Shire. I'm happy to report there's no news to speak of the moment, for, as they say, no news is often good news. But is there something specific of which you wanted to know?"