The young elf turns his face from one to the other. "Wait. What? Seriously? Okay . . .. How much is available in the way of supplies?"
"Well, I'm not supposed to say anything, so don't you go making me regret this. But Old Mister Hayward moved away up north on the Downs, right up near that dreadful Dead Man's Dike. I'm sure I don't know why. But young Barley thinks its got to do with the burning of Combe, even though Mister Hayward's been up there these four years now."
"I'm to take him word that somebody's come to the Prancing Pony asking about him. Elves and hobbits and so forth. I suppose that's you lot? Young Master Barliman wants him to leave again, says he's in danger. You're sure you don't mean him no harm?"
After Primrose had spoken, Tilly simply added,
"You know me and my kin, Mister Willowreed. This is the truth and we mean him no harm. Can you, at the very least, deliver a message to Mister Hayward from my friend, here? She has been searching for her kin for some time. It is simply the right thing to do. Please."
"The bandits came here for a reason and did not find what they sought so I doubt they will return anytime soon. Although they are numerous if they make too big a fuss they will attract more attention then they might desire. The big question is can we find what they seek before they do as there cannot be any good of them finding him."
Bert Willowreed looks from woman to woman, uncertainty on his face.
"I...suppose I could take a second message, Miss. What shall I say?"
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"What do you suppose they were after?" asks Lister. "What could one hobbit have that would move so many to violence?"
"Please let him know that Primrose is on her way to see him, and asks that he not leave until she arrives." Primrose begs.
She looks at Tilly and Morwenn. "Will you go with me to this place called the North Downs? To look for my Uncle? I'm not even sure where the place is."
The elf looks confused. "I doubt what they were looking for will matter at this point. You say you cannot defend yourselves, but you cannot work to stop them. You have given up! There is no hope, no promise of joy for the future, in your position. I do not understand how someone could give up all hope. Ever."
She looks at Tilly and Morwenn. "Will you go with me to this place called the North Downs? To look for my Uncle? I'm not even sure where the place is."
"Of course I will go with you, Rose. Should we speak to the others and all go together?" Tilly looked to Morwenn to see what the Ranger had to say on the matter.
"Alright, Miss. I'll do that. Now, if you don't mind, I think I must be off if I've a hope of returning before sundown. I shouldn't like to be out at night with all them brigands about, you understand me."
Bert Willowreed touches his cap in respect, then eases past the feminine barricade, mounts his horse and rides off north through the Hay Gate.
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"I did not say that we have given up," says Lister, bristling. "Nor that we could not defend ourselves. Bree has a good ditch and hedge and we routed the brigands at Combe. What I said was we didn't have the numbers to flush them from the Chetwood. Nor do I think we have the strength to protect Archet and Staddle, to say nothing of the outlying farms along the Greenway and the Dwarf Road, should the brigands decide to raid there. Only here in Bree are we reasonably safe."
"It is curious that they haven't raided anywhere else. Not so much as a merchant wagon burned or a horse missing from a local farm. Isn't that strange?"
"Strange things are information. If they aren't raiding easier targets, then it isn't about raiding. Could be political."
"Hmm, North Downs..., must be close if he can return by sundown..." Morwenn mutters, her mind reviewing what she know of the local geography.
Sirothel pursed her lips, thinking.
”I do not know if political is strictly correct...my own thoughts counsel me that the raid was a distraction or a pretext. They were looking for something, or someone.”
"But, a city of this size? You can send spies to find where a thing might be without risking more people. You can even use burglars to get something." He shakes his head in confusion. "I know there is much I don't know, but throwing armed men against these defenses isn't about finding anything. It could well be a distraction, drawing more militia to the walls or getting the city to shift funding away from another project in order to bolster the defenses. There are just too many CHEAPER ways to find something for me to believe it is a search effort."
"We should go. I want to get ready to leave as soon as it's possible. Do you think we can leave today?" Primrose looks hopeful that it's early enough to leave for the Downs.
"I can leave immediately," says Tilly, her cheeks flushed with excitement to be doing something useful. "We should bring Waylon and Sirothel with us."
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"Aye. We need to discover what they were after." agrees Lister. "I fear for Bree if they should find it."
"Let's go back to Bree to let the gentlemen know what we found out. Then we can leave for the North Downs. Do you think we can rent ponies for the trip?" Primrose asks as they ladies start to return to Bree, and the Prancing Pony.
Tilly nods. "Ordinarily I'd ask Mister Butterbur to arrange it, but I'm sure we can talk to the stable owners at the West Gate and hire some horse and a pony."
Primrose, Tilly and Morwenn return to the Prancing Pony to find Waylon in conversation with Lister, Sirothel and an unknown elf.
Waylon nods at those who have returned and says, "Hello, we have been introduced to Adair while you were away. He is concerned by the bandits and their goals as well."
"Well met again, friends. Have you found anything that might guide our feet?"
"We found out where my Uncle might be. He's in the North Downs."
The young halfling looks at the unknown elf. "Hello My name is Primrose. What is yours?"
The young elf smiles, and goes to take the hand of each of the ladies in turn. "My pleasure!" After greeting each, his smiles fades, some. "This seems a poor time to meet people, though. Too many doing unseemly things."
Morwenn inclines her head respectfully to the elf, Adair , as he take her hand, "Morwenn." she say simply by way of introdution.
She gives Sirothel a wan smile, and nods, "Seems we've found what the bandits sought." she says softly, wary of prying ears.
"Come, let us talk away..." she offers, indicating the others should join her outside , away from the busy tavern.
Waylon nods and stands to finish his drink before pulling out some coins to pay for it and then heads out of the bar.
". . . sought?"
"Let's talk outside. Sir elf." Primrose follows Morwenn outside.
His face scrunches up a little bit, but he shrugs. "Okay, outside."
Sirothel follows the group outside, wishing to hear more.
As she does so, she thinks to herself of what might be happening. She is one of the Eldar, scion of some of the Wise, and mighty in her own way. There may, after all, be something in Bree-land, where the progeny of the Edain that did not settle Beleriand came in the elder days.
The whole group moves outside and the many faces inside the Prancing Pony make a show of paying them no attention as they leave, though the sounds are hushed as the seven move outside.
It is a warm spring evening, not unlike the one a week ago when Combe was burned to the ground. Apple blossoms blow across the ground like gentle snow and the smell of cook fires wafts over the ancient town of Bree. Within a few paces you are alone in the waning light of evening and can talk as freely as anywhere inside the hedge.
From your limited exposure to the young elf, his relatively somber expression and closed mouth both seem out of place. Maybe he's taking this seriously.
Primrose looks around, and waves the group over to the side of the Pony away from prying eyes.
"The person the bandits were looking for is my Uncle. We think he's in the North Downs. We've give a message to someone who knows where he is to wait for us. We need to leave soon as we can for the north." she says in a rush.
Morwenn smiles at Primrose's excitement, nodding, "Primrose speaks true. " she says, addressing the newcomers, "The bandits burned most of Combe to the ground looking for her uncle, we need to discover why...especially with such agents of Shadow set against."
She sighs, "The people of Bree are good folk, but suspicious and I do not doubt agents of the bandits dwell within. We must be cautious. If we all leave together, we will be noticed. If we leave in two groups , by different roads and meet up north of town, I think no one will be the wiser" .
"Then let us be away. We will have need to be wary; of old, the Free Folk strove against the foul Witch-king in the North Downs. Where precisely is he located? It is not a small locale. When we go there, we must first pass the Trestlespan, but there may yet be grave danger lurking past the homes of Men..."
"Okay, let's make this right." He tries to put a positive spin on the effort. A real adventure? Me?
The team spends an hour or so acquiring mounts and getting ready to go forth in small numbers.
WOW.
"Do you know how to get where we are going? I don't know how to find the place." Primrose looks nervous at riding a pony and heading out into the vast wilds. At least she assumes they will be vast wilds.
"I am afraid that although I have traveled around I have not been to this place."
Adair looks thoughtful for a moment. "Well, if I remember the maps I was studying in our library back home, we'll need to head due North, past Fornost and into the hills just beyond. Now, where in the Downs he may be is still an open question, from what I remember hearing."