"Just finished up helping my father set up for tomorrow Mister Butterbur.  You have more guests from the Shire," Galar does an abbreviated sweep and bow to the hobbits, "And I'll pay for their first round.  Oh for me... just a cider and whatever your lovely wife has to stew to tide me over thank you."

"Did I miss any good songs or interesting tales yet?" the young man asks the innkeeper with a hopeful smile.

OOC
00:39, Today: Galar rolled a total of 23: an extraordinary success (same result if weary) using the The One Ring with a target of 15 with rolls of 8 (Feat Die), 2, 6, 1, 6.

Courtesy

Barnabas, flushed red from chin to the hidden crown of his bald head - for he wears a warm poplin cap to keep warm - walks away from Áski, happily muttering about Their Majesty, I shall be mentioned to Their Majesty, me, I shall be mentioned...

It is thus a happy Barnabas, a nearly Royal Barnabas, Innkeeper to the Royal Family, who greets Galar.
As Galar starts to talk about helping his father--
--Barnabas neerly hugs the man, and does not really listen to what is said.
"Oh, my friend, welcome, welcome!"
Clapping a slightly amazed Galar on the back, Butterbur waves him in, along with the Hobbits.
"Yes, a round for my guests. One cider, and maybe fresh goat milk for the lady, and what will the Masters be wanting?" he asks, looking Hobbits.
Turning back to Galar, he says:
"Oh, Galar, my good dear friend! I know your family does do travel for your work-dealings. Be careful, be careful... of course you know of the cutthroats and brigands, on the old-Greenway. Well, it has been said some character is organizing them. Getting the small rag-tag bands united and working together. Some character from the South would be doing that, so they say. Be careful, be careful, heh?"

He smiles, and then says - showing that he did listen, after all, or at least hear what interested him: "Nice of you to pay for the first round!"

Extraordinary success indeed! You have two questions you can ask Butterbur about gossip or rumours in Bree, and get an accurate answer. Keep note of this and use it when you want (now or later), just remind me. And, you had Butterbur volunteer a piece of vital information of benefit to the Company!

"Butternut.". He rumbles in his deep voice.  "A smoke beer, and platter of pork.". He states his order, to be heard over the din as he remains seated.  The Prancing Pony is filling up with customers, and he had no desire to lose his place.  And all of them young, aside from Aski sitting by the fire, they would all be dead of old age before he had reached the middle of his life.

A waiter nods to Vidar:
"Err... sir, you wish for a smoke, and a beer? Or smoked beer? And how do you want your pork-- boiled or grilled, sir?"

Mip clears his throat, overhearing the man's name a couple of times:"Mr. Butterbur, Sir, a table, not too high, for our lot and evening dinner, if possible, I mean, don't want to bother you, we can wait, yes, Sir...."

Mip becomes silent. These people are so tall. His neck already started to hurt while looking up all the time.

Mip is too shy around so many tall folk to make a good impression--
It is just a failure to impress, nothing negative.
--but Butterbur is quite cordial, and shows the Hobbits to a nice table, not in a separate room, but in a corner, off to the side. Out of the way, but where you can still see.
"There you go! And the first round is on fine Galar!"

"Grilled will be fine.". He replies to the server.  "A smoked beer is what I want.  I have a pipe.  Thank you.". He finishes his statement.  Then his eyes shift around the room, but not settling in one place.  Observing the excited commotion at the inn, before the Fair starts.

Mip turns to the man called Galar and bows to him.
After a few words and gestures to his company they all follow his example.
Mip is very glad to sit down at last and eagerly awaits his first whole half.
Is it impudent to ask for some mushrooms? And some grilled beef!
The journey took quite some time, he missed a couple of meals.
Maybe some cheese to finish.
A Hobbit could still dream, couldn't he?

Kelda entered the Prancing Pony with a pair of new acquaintances she had made on the Green.  The room held quite a number of occupants but her sharp eyes found a pair the recognized.  Kelda raised a hand in greeting when to Vidar and Áski, a knowing smile tugged at her cheek, as if she should have known they would be here.

Should the innkeeper approach she will incline her head and with a warm smile offer, "Good day, sir.  My companions and I have tired ourselves helping the minstrels judge their tunes and are in need refreshments.  Judging by the contentment of the room, it seems we have chosen well.  I am Kelda, daughter of Kolbeinn, fresh from Dale and pleased to make your acquaintance."

18:43, Today: Kelda rolled a total of 11 (11 if weary): a failure using the The One Ring with a target of 14 with rolls of 1 (Feat Die), 4, 6.
- 11 but need to roll again for favored skill

18:43, Today: Kelda rolled 10 using 1d12 with rolls of 10.  Favored Feat Die for Courtesy.
- 10 will be a total of 20 including a single 6

18:43, Today: Kelda rolled 3 using 1d12 with rolls of 3.  Favored Feat Die for Courtesy
- ?? not sure why rolled twice

Vidar sees the waiter smile - "Perfect, Master!" - and then move off to fetch the order.

Then the Dwarf's eyes shift around the room-- a lot of commotion indeed.
Some of his traveling companions are here.
Men from Bree and other parts, several Hobbits, some Dwarves - ones that did not travel right now from Erebor that is.
Merchants, townsfolk, people here for the Fair.
A waiter waving a mug over the fire-- wait, that is your waiter?
Oh, the man is 'smoking' your beer in the chimney!
But, at least he comes up and serves it with a nice plate of well-grilled pork, and assorted vegetables.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:59, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Galar sees the Hobbit bow to him, followed by what seems to be the young man's mother, and their friend, and the friend's wife-- and a couple more Hobbits are bowing too: more of the group that got the courage to enter.

Mip and his mum, and the Gaffer and his wife, move to their table, and fuss about with their order:
"- Mushrooms? Oh yes...
- Then I'll take pickles.
- If your having beef, I must have pork.
- Means I must ask for chicken..."

The kitchen is in full swing, what with the inn being so packed, on the eve of a major Fair. With all that is cooking, they actually are able to swiftly bring out all you ordered.

But, just as you are about to joyfully dig in, the waitress asks:
"Wait up! Did you not forget something... important?"

Worried looks are exchanged-- but the waitress just smiled: "Drink? Do you not want to order drinks. The first round is paid for by that gentleman."

Kelda raised a hand in greeting to Vidar and Áski, seated apart.
And, yes, the place is crowded.
Happy to be taller than most, Kelda at least can breathe slightly fresher air, her head being above most others.

The innkeeper does approach, and Kelda later sees that though rotund he moves fast, managing to greet everyone himself.
He smiles at her words, even more so when she mentions refreshments:
"Well met, Kelda, daughter of Kolbeinn. I am Butterbur, Barnabas Butterbur, innkeeper, at your service. I imagine this little inn will pale in comparison to your fine taverns of Dale, but we will do our best to make you feel at home here!"

So: Favoured roll of 1/10 + 4,6 - Great Success
You get to ask one question of Butterbur, about a rumour or such. He will answer truthfully. Note this down, to ask when you want (now or later) - just remind me of this when you do.

Kelda looks around the room to see where to sit...

"Dwarves, Longshanks, Hobbits from the Shire... well, at least there are no-- Rangers!"
The voice rings out, loud, above the conversations in the Pony.
And, for a second, all glance and see a Hobbit, seated at the counter, on a tall stool.
The man is waving an empty tankard around, maybe trying to have someone pay him a drink.
"Rangers... always a-begging for their drink. Troublesome outlaws, the lot of them!"
Once more the Bree-Hobbit, in his dreary grey worn-clothes, waves his empty beer-stein around.

Suddenly, the Hobbit spots Kelda, standing tall above the crowd:
"Hey, you there, new to these parts?
Look out! Careful of where you put your feet!"
He points to the floor in front of her:
"That's the exact spot where Gandolf the Grey Thorin Oak-and-shield.
That VERY spot.
I should know, I's the one that introduced them. I-- oh, 'tis too long a tale to tell with a dry mouth."

He jiggles his empty mug in the general direction of Kelda.


Matthew Mugwort

As the hobbits order their drinks, the Bree-lander gives them a friendly smile over his cider, "So what news of the Shire?"

He glances curiously at Mugwort's proclamation however.

The door to the Pony opens, revealing two tall Men, seemingly wanderers.
Orondil and Theorondil scan the bustling room.

A Bree-Hobbit waving an empty mug spots them and stammers:
"Rangers! Trouble--" but he stops short, and clams up, as the innkeeper suddenly takes on a very sten face and pulls out a big heavy wooden spoon, raising it high as though to smash old Mugwort on the head.
The Bree-Hobbit immediately gets the message, loud and clear, and returns to waving his mug around.
He has obviously forgotten who he was just talking to...

Then, his face reverting to a big warm smile, Barnabas Butterbur moves to the door:
"Welcome, welcome, if I may be so bold it seems like have been a-walking. Why not come take a load off those feet, and warm your stomachs too!"
He happily waves the pair inside.
Can Orondil (Theorondil not being around yet) make a Courtesy roll, please? If you wish to answer Butterbur you can RP this and thus add 1 skill die to this roll.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:06, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Being tall even among his own kin, Orodil stoops as he enters the inn, curiously eyeing the interior. He ignores old Mugwort and smiles inexpertly at the innkeeper. "I would be grateful." His words feel clumsy and unpracticed as he is reminded why he usually tries to avoid people.


11:21, Today: Orodil rolled a total of 8 (8 if weary): a failure using the The One Ring with a target of 16 with rolls of 2 (Feat Die), 6.  Courtesy.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:28, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Barnabas seems to not notice and clumsiness on Orodil's part, and leads the two Rangers in:
"A pair of seats over here, near the window? If thst is to your taste?"
He then scurries away to tend to other work, calling out to his waiters:
"Nob? NOB?! NOB!!!"

   Vidar Raised his hand in acknowledgement of Kelda, but remained otherwise lost in his own thoughts, to all appearances.  The Prancing Pony buzzed with life infront of him, people moving, talking, eating, drinking, and generally making merry.  The happy hum of contentment.  It all seemed to him to pass like ghosts not yet come to be.  He shakes his head.  Pah!  Long journeys end is no place to get lost in the past.. He thinks to himself.  Still.  I wonder how Kan and Rana are doing.  They would have liked this.  Well, they'll use the coins well enough.  their kids'll need to start taking over soon.  With luck, they'll get orders from the fair too.". He mulls their situation over in his head, as he waits for his food.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:37, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Between two greedy and very hungry bites Mip replies to Galar:"Harvest is good and it is a good year for gardening, kind Sir, thank you for asking."
Mip really isn't accustomed talking to strangers especially to tall humans.
He falls silent quickly after his short response, tending to his dinner.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:06, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

"So what brings you to the Fair?  Buying, selling, or just the Festival itself?" Galar continues between bites looking at the Hobbits with interest.

"Oh, well, good Sir, for the Fair itself, off to see the world, you know, and maybe some selling if we are lucky to do so."

Áski beckoned the inkeeper and spoke to him again in a low voice. "Pray pardon, Master Butterbur, but I could not help but overhear you speaking to yonder gentleman," he said, subtly indicating Galar with the stem of his pipe. "I heard mention of someone organizing the local bandit-gangs. Tell me all you can of the situation. How long since these troubles began, and do they prey on travelers in all directions along the local thoroughfares or just certain roads and/or certain directions?" Áski spied Vidar and Kelda as they entered and beckoned them to join him by the fireside.

Vidar rises, reluctantly, from where he was seated.  Waving the server to being his food and drink there.  He pulls up a seat to Askis' left, taking out his own finely carved pipe, and a nice leather tobacco pouch.  "What do want Aski.". Vidar rumbles in neutral tone, as he packs his pipe with some fresh pipeweed.  Striking a match, he pulls on the stem with a few long puffs to get it started.  As the sweet smelling smoke starts to rise, his eyes meet Askis' and he waits for an answer.

Butterbur comes over to Áski, and listens, before nodding:
"Oh, not sure it is the local bandit-gangs. We are nice people in Bree. It is most always the foreigners who make trouble. In general those brigangs are from the South, mostly, I think."
He picks his cap up and scratches his head:
"Oh, I do not know much of the situation. I mean, it has been happening, bandits I mean, since the North Road became known as the Greenway. The road  fell into disrepair long ago, and it became so grass-grown to earn its current nickname. That was... at least... more than... a long time ago.
Bandits attack people eveywhere. But, mostly to the South, yes, the South, mostly.
But I heard someone say... or was it someone else? I cannot remember who said it. But they said that yes someone was organizing things. To fear for more organizing being done."

It is getting late, and will soon be time to sleep-- and move on to the Adventuring Phase that is starting, but no problem talking some more here, before that.

Kelda separated from those she had entered with and joined Áski and Vidar in listening to Butterbur's rambling recollection of the bandit situation.  She pursed her lips as she contemplated the import of it all before glancing to Áski and raising her brow in a silent query:

What was of the Dwarf's mind to do about it?

Regardless any action would need wait.  The day grew late and tomorrow would be a busy day.