Breelanders All! RPG - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 10-02-2003, 11:32 AM

Berilac

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Berilac said, nodding his head at Mausi, ‘I would like to leave early enough to take a quick look along the inner perimeter of the hedge . . . while it’s still light out, and while I have time before the meeting.’

Mausi smiled at him, telling him to leave his dishes - that they would clear up when they were through. There was a general clamor from the youngsters, Ella, Mondy, and Kali, wanting to go with him. ‘You promised!’ cried Kali, shoving his bowl and spoon from him, and jumping down from his chair.

Berilac crouched down by the youngster and drew him closer with an arm round his shoulders. Kali’s arms were crossed tight across his chest, his body stiff with perceived injustice. ‘I did promise, my friend. And I intend to follow through on it.’ He looked the lad squarely in the eye. ‘And I intend to hold you to your promise.’ ‘And you. And you also,’ he said, his gaze tracking each of the two children still seated at the table. ‘Tomorrow, when there is plenty of light, I want to see all the places in the hedge you can get through.’

Kali’s body relaxed against him, his brown eyes scanning the Ranger’s face for any sign of grown-up deceit. He spit a little in his palm and held it out to Berilac. ‘You swear?’

With an equally serious expression on his face, Berilac spit on his palm and grasped the little Hobbit’s hand, giving it a firm shake. ‘Well, then, that’s taken care of, don’t you think?’ asked Berilac, scooting the lad, with a firm pressure to his back, toward his chair. Kali nodded and clambered back on the seat. Mollified, the youngster took up his spoon and was soon again engaged in finishing up his soup.

~*~

‘Did you teach him that?’ asked a grinning Berilac of his brother, once they were out of sight of the table. Rosco had excused himself, saying he would just walk him to the door. ‘I can remember many a boyhood pact sworn to and sealed like that between us!’ Rosco said nothing, only grinned back and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. He cautioned his younger brother to be careful as he wandered about, then waved him off as he strode down the lane toward the borders of the town.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He had worked his way slowly from the northern end of the hedge to just beyond the West Gate when the light began to fail, the sun sliding beneath the rim of the world, slipping down behind the crest of the hedge. He was disconcerted by what he’d seen in just that small segment. But, if truth be told, what dismayed him more, were the looks of disgust and sometimes loathing he encountered and the remarks, some quiet, some loud that were made as he passed.

The Hobbits in Bree were pressed in on two sides – before them the outlaws, behind them the town-folk. It was no wonder to him that many might see the frightening face of an enemy whenever they saw one of the Big Folk.

Still, he reasoned, this was now their home. Defend it they must. Ideally that would be in tandem with the other townfolk, as equals who shared the same concerns for the safety of their community. But if push came to shove, then they would work separately for the same goal. There was no other choice, he acknowledged grimly. Their blood would run just as easily and freely, their deaths come just as surely when the outlaws came.

It was with these thoughts he came to the square where the meeting was being held. The torches were lit, throwing the features of the angry faces of the Big Folk into sharp relief. The Hobbits were thronged into a small area at the back of the greater crowd, hemmed in by the press of Big Folk who had come to give their views. They were quiet, crowded close together, drawn back as they could from any contact with the vociferous and jostling mass.

Berilac positioned himself on the stone seat of one of the benches at the back of the plaza. Standing there, he could keep watch on the contact between the small Hobbit group and the Men. And see the happenings at the front of the gathering. He leaned almost casually on his bow, as if it were a staff. His eyes flicked here and there, assessing the rhythms of the crowd’s movements; his ears alert to the sounds of increasing anger and resentment.

10-02-2003, 11:32 AM	#11
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Berilac ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Berilac said, nodding his head at Mausi, ‘I would like to leave early enough to take a quick look along the inner perimeter of the hedge . . . while it’s still light out, and while I have time before the meeting.’ Mausi smiled at him, telling him to leave his dishes - that they would clear up when they were through. There was a general clamor from the youngsters, Ella, Mondy, and Kali, wanting to go with him. ‘You promised!’ cried Kali, shoving his bowl and spoon from him, and jumping down from his chair. Berilac crouched down by the youngster and drew him closer with an arm round his shoulders. Kali’s arms were crossed tight across his chest, his body stiff with perceived injustice. ‘I did promise, my friend. And I intend to follow through on it.’ He looked the lad squarely in the eye. ‘And I intend to hold you to your promise.’ ‘And you. And you also,’ he said, his gaze tracking each of the two children still seated at the table. ‘Tomorrow, when there is plenty of light, I want to see all the places in the hedge you can get through.’ Kali’s body relaxed against him, his brown eyes scanning the Ranger’s face for any sign of grown-up deceit. He spit a little in his palm and held it out to Berilac. ‘You swear?’ With an equally serious expression on his face, Berilac spit on his palm and grasped the little Hobbit’s hand, giving it a firm shake. ‘Well, then, that’s taken care of, don’t you think?’ asked Berilac, scooting the lad, with a firm pressure to his back, toward his chair. Kali nodded and clambered back on the seat. Mollified, the youngster took up his spoon and was soon again engaged in finishing up his soup. ~~ ‘Did you teach him that?’ asked a grinning Berilac of his brother, once they were out of sight of the table. Rosco had excused himself, saying he would just walk him to the door. ‘I can remember many a boyhood pact sworn to and sealed like that between us!’ Rosco said nothing, only grinned back and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. He cautioned his younger brother to be careful as he wandered about, then waved him off as he strode down the lane toward the borders of the town. ~~~~~~~ He had worked his way slowly from the northern end of the hedge to just beyond the West Gate when the light began to fail, the sun sliding beneath the rim of the world, slipping down behind the crest of the hedge. He was disconcerted by what he’d seen in just that small segment. But, if truth be told, what dismayed him more, were the looks of disgust and sometimes loathing he encountered and the remarks, some quiet, some loud that were made as he passed. The Hobbits in Bree were pressed in on two sides – before them the outlaws, behind them the town-folk. It was no wonder to him that many might see the frightening face of an enemy whenever they saw one of the Big Folk. Still, he reasoned, this was now their home. Defend it they must. Ideally that would be in tandem with the other townfolk, as equals who shared the same concerns for the safety of their community. But if push came to shove, then they would work separately for the same goal. There was no other choice, he acknowledged grimly. Their blood would run just as easily and freely, their deaths come just as surely when the outlaws came. It was with these thoughts he came to the square where the meeting was being held. The torches were lit, throwing the features of the angry faces of the Big Folk into sharp relief. The Hobbits were thronged into a small area at the back of the greater crowd, hemmed in by the press of Big Folk who had come to give their views. They were quiet, crowded close together, drawn back as they could from any contact with the vociferous and jostling mass. Berilac positioned himself on the stone seat of one of the benches at the back of the plaza. Standing there, he could keep watch on the contact between the small Hobbit group and the Men. And see the happenings at the front of the gathering. He leaned almost casually on his bow, as if it were a staff. His eyes flicked here and there, assessing the rhythms of the crowd’s movements; his ears alert to the sounds of increasing anger and resentment. __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.