The hobbit slides onto one of the benches at your table and begins to pick fruit from the bowl the landlord set out at the end of your meal. He grins cheekily at Mercury and winks at her as well.

"Now that I've got your attention," he says softly. "Watch the fellow who keeps restarting the arguments. He's planning to start a brawl and then rob that lady with her maids using the fight as cover.

"My boss says he's seen this dodge pulled in other taverns before, and it's playing out classical right now."

He eats a pear and waggles his eyebrows at Mercury as if flirting, but he continues to speak to Roclindhir.

"Any minute now there'll be a shout. A tankard will get thrown into someone's face and then the fight will start. That's when he'll make his move. The lady has her personal bag under her chair with her foot on the strap. But when the fight starts, she'll jump up most likely and weasel face will make his move. You just watch.

"My name's Gilly, by the way," he speaks indeed now to Mercury. "You look very fit."

Mercury isn't surprised when the other hobbit's attention turns back to her, and is indeed already in the process of taking out a much smaller scrap of leather with considerably finer stitching on it that has the less formal version of her name written as "Mercury, glad to meet you." on it.

While he is unrolling and or reading it she slips away from the table and disappears into, or perhaps under, the crowd.

Hearing this, and seeing the feasibility of the scheme, Berthold, having nearly finished his stew, stand up to walk a Little though the room, casually moving closer to the lady signaled as would be victim, trying to keep an eye on the would be thief without directly looking at him.

If he made his move, Berthold intended to intecept and tackle or knocking him...

OOC: Berthold's a big martial-looking guy. Please give me a Stealth roll to not just scare the would-be thief off altogether. Nothing has happened yet, and the guy may just decide it's not worth it if he feels too many eyes are watching. Of course, that may be what you want.

15:13, Today: Berthold rolled 17,5 using d4,d6, rerolling max with rolls of (4+4+4+4+1)17,5.  Stealth roll.

Success with 3 raises...

Berthold moved through the hall feighting he just needed to move his legs, without giving any hint of his intent (not even his friends realized how ready for action he was)...

With the big Rider seeming to melt into the woodwork and Mercury in a strategic position to observe the lady's bag, the stage is set. The volume of voices at the table of local farmers rises suddenly in anger and from somewhere in the group a half glass of ale is thrown in someone's face. Tempers flare. Fists fly and in a twinkling, a barroom brawl erupts. Loud voices hurl insults. Men are getting shoved, tripped, and punched.

The local smith, a burly dwarf is trying to pull the worst offenders out of the pile and the landlord is running around trying to pick up breakable items.

In the side room where the lady and her retinue are finishing their deal, the women stand to see what the commotion is, and the wily thief staggers back in their direction, as though shoved hard from the melee. The women cry out and scatter as he falls over at their feet.

Because you are expecting it, you spot him shoving the lady's leather satchel under a bench as he tries to push himself to his feet. Then he turns away from the fight as if looking for an exit.

"Hide me, ladies," he calls in a scared voice making as if to duck behind the bench.

OOC: Great roll, Berthold. You and Mercury are both in position to act as the thief tries to gather up the bag from the far side of the bench as the women's attention turns back to the fight.

Seeing it, Berthold draws is sword and tries to hit the thief with it (but flat, the intent is to knock hims out, not to kill him).

OOC: tell me when I cna roll for the action

Not one to engage in anything even remotely as chaotic as a brawl Mercury concentrates on avoiding the passage of larger people while keeping an eye on the thief, and as close as possible to a clear path to whatever exit he uses so she can follow him if he escapes.

Telric, seeing the commotion, stays close to the wizard. He nearly goes for his weapon, bit seeing as no one else is just keeps a wary eye out and his ears open. Especially if his travelling companions call for aid.

In reply to Telric Traventor (msg # 55):

Falin sighs, and rises from his comfy seat by the fire.  Moving gingerly around the edges of the ruckus, he takes up a position by one of the back exits to the tavern.  Drawing his axe from his belt, he tests the edge with his thumb, and waits to see if the thief is foolish enough to try and escape via "his" exit.

OOC: Go ahead and give me a Fighting roll.

As the thief passed near Berthold, he triet to hit him with his flat sword:

08:31, Today: Berthold rolled 7,2 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 7,2.  Attack roll against the thief. Sorry, forgot the -1 for being an edged weapong used flat, so rolls are 6 and 1.  As I guess his parry is not over 6, I asume a hit, and so roll or damage. Feel free (of course) to edit it if not.

Damage roll (I could not use them added) 08:43, Today: Berthold rolled 3,7 using d6,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 3,7. So a total of 10. I guess he's either shaken or wounded...

Berthold sword hit flat the thieve's head, leaving him stuned. He intended to then hold him and, if posible, bind him...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 06:46, Tue 03 May 2022.

The flat of Berthold's sword smacks hard into the skinny man's head, and the lady screams as he falls dazed and seeping blood on the wooden planks of the floor. She looks at Berthold in horror as if expecting him to attack her next, but then notices that the thief is clutching her bag.

"My bag!" she cries. "He was stealing my bag. You stopped him!"

The lady's piercing scream along with the sudden dispatch of one of the locals (it will take a moment to realize he is not dead) takes most of the fizzle out of the bar fight in short order. The locals glare at the Rider of Rohan with the naked sword in their midst but as the lady babbles on about how Berthold has saved her bag from being stolen, things calm down, and the innkeeper offers a round of free drinks for Berthold and his companions.

The lady is overcome and leans on her maids, who escort her upstairs to bed. The locals leave, carrying their downed companion (unless you want to detain him).

As things get back to normal, the hobbit who warned you about the impending theft visits your table again.

"A bit dramatic," he laughs, nodding at Berthold. "But I'm glad you stopped the man from stealing her bag. My master," he nods at the outlander still sitting in the booth, "often gets blamed for bad things that happen around him. He's from the south. Selling fabrics and carpets.

"He'd like to buy you a drink as well if you're willing. But he understands if you want nothing to do with foreigners."

When the dust, and room, clears Mercury is nowhere to be found inside the inn, likely having slipped out into the night without anyone the wiser.

Berthold salutes the Lady with a nod, as she retreats to her chambers with her maids.

OOC: the decisión about detaining the thief or not is deferred to Roclindhir. He being a Knight of Gondor, Berthold recognizes his authority.



"I will be glad to accept his invitation , but it better is something without alcohol, as I have already taken enough and I'm tired from travel" Berthold answered , following him to the stranger's table.

"I guess a Shouthern in Gondor should feel li ke a Duendain in RRohan... Even though the wars ended before I was born, mistrust diez hard...

I'm Berthold, brom Rohan, by the way" he said to the stranger, offering him his hand to shake

"A Hobbit and a Southerner, what a strange pair" he thought to himself. "I guess it's not for neigbourhood... But I'm not the one to point it, seeing my own company". He smiled as he has this last though.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 17:35, Tue 03 May 2022.

The merchant stands up with arms wide open when Berthold and others step over to join him. He beams from ear to ear and waves his hands to invite you all to sit. Then he sends Gilly, the hobbit, to order wine for the table.

"So glad you could save that poor woman's property from being stolen," booms the merchant speaking the common tongue with a heavy accent, but quite understandably. His clothes, the way he curls his hair, and even his accent speak of exotic places.

"Mr. Gilly, he is the one for the sharp eyes. He spotted what was about to happen, and I sent him to tell the Knight of Gondor. Even in my far land, the Knights of Gondor are known.

"And you," he turns his attention to Berthold. "You must be one of the famous Riders we have heard about. A child of Rohan. I can tell by your gear. So quick on your feet for such a big man.

"I would not want to meet you in a dark alley at night," he laughs and waves his hands in invitation again as the wine and a pitcher of foaming beer arrive at the table along with a plate of cheese and pickles along with slices of crusty bread.

"My name is Azrad al Saif," he says after drinks are poured. "I am a merchant from the south come north to these cold lands to sell exquisite carpets and fine cloth. Now that peace has come once more to Gondor and the lands beyond, trade will follow. Your King Ellesar is keen for tradesmen like myself to explore the lands north of here.

"We are traveling to your lands to meet with King Éomer, in Edoras, at the Meduseld, the Golden Hall."

A shadow crosses his face.

"I had thought us safe traveling alone, just me and Mr. Gilly with our two wagons, but this thief in the night? He makes me wonder if I should hire body guards."

"Stopping thieves should be any good man's duty" Berthold said, taking some bread and cheese, but being careful with the drinks, "and merit is als oyour for warning us.

You should not have anything to be afraid from me in a dark alley despite my look" he said on his comment, trying to seem as gnetle as he could to show he has taken it as a joke. "But you would not be the first to judge me for it. As said, old fears and misstrusts die hard"

He looked at Azrad as he talked about hiring bodyguards.

"I guess you're offering us to be your bodyguards..." he said. "I cannot talk for my partners, but I'm afraid he'll have to decline, as we're in a bit of hurry, and I'm not sure if we will reach Edoras... Be sure I'll be pleased to escort you in other circumstances."

Admina was out of sorts and seemed to have missed the kerfuffle until the thief was on the floor. She had just placed her pipe onto the small plate of sand and then it was all over. she was not slow ordering another jug of ale though.

When the jug of ale arrives Admina takes a cup while trying the cheese and bread. She listens to the man, but has nothing else to add once the idea of employment is broached.



-

Telric keeps his keen elven ears on the conversation among his companions. He keeps his much keener elven eyes on the wizard. He does let the man drink. After all, of he passes out, it makes Telric's job much eaiser.

In reply to Telric Traventor (msg # 65):

Roclindhir keeps his ears on the conversation of his companions. He silently nods in agreement with Berthold, feeling that the man's words speak for him as well.

The evening is jolly at the inn as al Saif provides ale and wine to our heroes and the innkeeper beams at all these late-night sales. Even Mulciber has the hint of a smile on his face as he sips a fine red wine from Bree. The merchant has made his request for guards on the trail, but Berthold and Roclindhir have both agreed that this is not within their charge from the king. Yet the man does not seem upset or resentful. Indeed, he is very merry and his companion, the hobbit Gilly, is proving to be quite a wit with silly stories for every conversation.

Mercury has slipped off somewhere, but this seems to be her habit. The burly dwarf smith joins the party and sits next to Admina, offering her a plug from his own leather pouch of pipeweed. Telric watches, especially the wizard, like a hawk.

After an hour or two, the merchant yawns and stretches.

"Time for travelers to go to bed," he shrugs. "We will be back on the road at dawn. I wish you well in your venture, whatever it is."

He hasn't really asked questions about where they are bound, but his eyes have been bright and inquisitive, and he seems to absorb every fragment of conversation like a sponge. It is possible he has at least a sense they are on a mission for the king, and that the wizard, watched so closely in their midst, is integral to that mission -- and perhaps not as willing as the others.

The merchant and his companion have a private room as do the ladies traveling in the coach. The bunk room is available for the late arrivals.

OOC: What arrangements will you make overnight? Watches? Who will stay on guard? Etc.

In reply to Incantrix (msg # 67):

OOC: Do I go into a trance, or do I sleep?

Upon returning to the tavern about a half hour before the merchant prepares to leave Mercury catches up on a little bit of everything still available to eat, but stays away from any of the drinks stronger than ale, which has no significant effect on her in the quantities she can drink.  Only after they are alone does she approach Rochlindhir and hand him a small piece of paper with an even smaller but very neat writing easy enough to read from up close but not the kind of thing you can even read over someone else's shoulder.

OOC: Basically up to you. Middle Earth elves certainly do sleep, but they can also go for many days without it. Legolas, for instance, could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed in the light of this world.

Too long (let's say more than 10 days) of not sleeping, however, would begin to affect his stamina and his mind.

As I say, your choice.

In reply to Incantrix (msg # 70):

OOC-I will take a shift, but as we are in a non-wilderness area I will try to get some sleep.