Common Room
This large and rectangular room serves the purpose of Common Room for the Prancing Pony. Large windows along the western end of the room peek out over the Great East Road which runs outside the Inn. There are long tables with bench seats for the patrons in the centre of the room. Nestled into the wall is a large fireplace with several bundles of wood piled next to it. Sunlight streams through the windows to mingle with the smoke that floats above the ceiling beams, and provide an odd sort of illumination that, even in daylight, doesn't quite reach the corners. The lamps which hang down are presently unlit.

<OOC> Type PHELP for help using the menu at the Pony.
Contents:
Palanonnen
Dart Board
Obvious exits:
Out

As the sun looms tall in the bronzed sky, shrouded with smoke from the east, the Prancing Pony is inevitably a bit barren considering the time of day and the exciting events going on elsewhere. A perfect setting for a Ranger, as Talbinor sits in a shadowy corner booth, a tankard of ale set on the table in front of him, largely ignored, and his pack also arrayed before him.

Various standard travelling goods (rope, canteen, small cooking implements) across the table before him, Talbinor is working on idly repacking them, silently ignoring what crowd there is in the Pony at this time of day, lost within his activity and his thought.

The room is dotted sparsely with patrons. Most keep to themselves, and whisper in hushed tones to keep their business their own. Into the uncrowded room steps a tall figure, his identity masked by a deep, heavy cloak and hood. He stops at the doorway to survey the scene, and his sight falls upon the darkest corner of the room, where another of his kind makes ready his rucksack.

With a slow gate, the figure makes his way to the other Ranger's table.

From his corner table, Talbinor's peripheral vision catches a shadow moving towards him, and he looks up from his packing in time to catch a glimpse of his kinsman as he arrives, nodding politely and sedately. "Good afternoon," he says in a quiet voice, to keep his conversation below the relatively tame hustle and bustle of the Prancing Pony.

Having given his greeting, Talbinor goes back to packing, slipping in some wrapped packages that are probably simple rations for the road. "Not going to watch the fires, are you?" he asks quietly, a somewhat wry grin given in the direction of his pack.

The entryway to the common room is rather packed, an annoyance for those who seek to enter or leave. Yet it helps a stranger slip in quietly and without attracting attention, which suits the nature of a ranger's business. Daerandir makes his way into the warm comfort of the Prancing Pony, and skimming the room he spots Talbinor, sitting alone. Quietly, he approaches, exchanging a few grunts and nods with the locals as he passes.

"Fires?" asks the other in the same quiet voice. Palanonnen sits across from the other, and removes the dark cowl from his head. To the bartender he looks, and makes a wave for a tankard to be brought to the table. His own satchel is set upon the floor at his side, and from it he pulls a pipe and a leather bag filled with leaf. His attention then returns to Talbinor.

"What do you know of these fires?" he queries. "I hadn't heard anything of fires; I am newly come to Bree from Evendim, and I passed around the Shire, not through it."

"There is great panic," Talbinor answers Palanonnen with a small nod, looking up from his packing to address the other Ranger headon. "Particularly near Archet, as you might imagine. Going from exhiliration at rain finally coming to despondent terror. Quite a blow from them." His left hand gropes for his own tankard for a moment, before taking a draught and wiping his mouth off on the back of his dirty sleeve.

"There's also a party from the Shire caught in Bree during the middle of all of this." Talbinor smiles, a bit wryly, at that. "But I know little more. I am not a fireman, and my own errands are taking me out of Bree before all the answers shall be known."

Daerandir nods his head in greeting, and draws forth a stool from a neighbouring table. Tucking a strand of stray hair from his face and placing it behind his ear, he rubs his mitted palms and turns to Talbinor. "Fire, you say? In Bree?" A wave echoing Palanonnen's reaches the bartender, who may be seen filling the tankard with one hand, and fetching glasses with the other.

"Hm..."

The Solitary thinks on this for as he prepares his pipe, until at last his thoughts are interrupted by the bar keep who brings his own takard. A silent nod is given, and he takes a pull from the mug ere lighting his pipe. A quick glance toward the new arrival brings another nod from Palanonnen, as he continues to smoke the leaf.

"And now you contribute a little more fire to the poor people of Bree," Talbinor says with a little smart-alecky grin, glancing at Palanonnen's pipe, befre turning in place to look up at Daerandir as he speaks and sits. "In the Chetwood, anyway," he answers with a nod. "One hopes that it does not reach so far as the village or..." his voice trails off a bit, the sentence left uncompleted.

After a thoughtful pause, during which he downs another gulp of ale, Talbinor looks down at his pack thoughtfully and adds, "I am confident the Breefolk can handle it before that point, however. They may be rather simple," he drops his voice a bit to avoid the ears of those same simpletons, "but they will certainly be able to cope with a situation like this."

"Indeed," answers the Solitary, keeping the same somber expression that always marks his features.

"Where are you headed?" he asks, leaning in and taking another pull of the ale. "I myself am just passing through the town, as my errand leads me to Imladris." He glances toward Daerandir, then back to Talbinor.

A light chuckle follows a grimace at Talbinor's words, as Daerandir tastes the snow-white foam coating his newly-arrived ale. "Simple folk indeed," he ventures, in a voice no louder than a whisper. "Are you confident they are in control of the situation? You know the way of fire, maybe we should intervene before this place is reduced to nothing more than ash and rubble." A slight wink and a grin underline a hint of sarcasm behind an otherwise serious suggestion.

"I am headed nowhere," he answers in response to Palanonnen. "I have come from the North, and I intend to stay here for a while, before I make my way east." His gaze darts to Palanonnen.

"I had thought to head south," Talbinor answers Palanonnen airily, gesturing his hand off in the appropriate cardinal direction, "and monitor the lands over towards Tharbad before heading back up to Imladris." He rather restlessly plays with his half-empty tankard, pushing it around in little circles with his fingers even as he speaks. "It is a road little used by our people of late and there is some worth in making sure it is in order."

Looking back to Daerandir, Talbinor chuckles, just softly and just for a moment. "Half of them probably think we started it; there are several of us in the village of late," he answers, stopping his tankard-fiddling long enough to set his hand on the table. "And for my part, even if I were to stay I could hardly contribute beyond cluttering their workspace. I am no fireman."

"Nor I," answers Palanonnen, leaning back in his chair and lazily crossing his legs. The ale is once again brought to his lips, a long draught taken, and then he sets it upon the table once again. "Tell me," he asks. "Have either of you heard news of the Chieftain of late? I have news that he must hear, and I had thought to find him in the Valley of Elrond, since last I heard he was there. But it is long since I have seen any of our folk, and I know that his duty often calls him on errands away from there."

He takes a long pull of the pipe.

"I daren't say you need to be a fireman to carry a bucket of water, but you may be right. We'd best mind our own business here." Glancing up, Daerandir spots one of the locals, a young woman waving her hands wildly. Met by the ranger's gaze, she stops and nods sideways towards the window, pointing subtly towards something outside. Instantly she breaks eye contact, and disappears out the door.

"Uhm, no, I haven't, old friend, but..." he trails off, a wrinkled brow lowered in distinct curiousity. "I must go. Sorry gentlemen, maybe I'll see you in Imladris further down the road." Leaving a handful of small coins on the table, he rises and nods in farewell. With a speed doubling that of his entrance, Daerandir disappears from the common room.

Smiling a bit at Daerandir as he leaves on his urgent errand, Talbinor turns back to Palanonnen and shakes his head. "I have not seen the Chieftain in many months," he admits, before taking another drink from his flagon and thumping it back down onto the table. "If he will do, the Captain is in the area, heading for the Shire I am told."

A quick glance around the Pony follows, at the Breefolk keeping their discrete distance from the two Rangers, at the environment in general. Then, in a lower voice, "He travels with one of the Imladhrim as well, who last I heard is in Bree as we speak. So he should not be too hard to find."

"Halbarad and one of the Imladhrim are here?" recants Palanonnen. "Indeed, he must hear what I have to tell also, and perhaps he can point me to the whereabouts of Aragorn." With a last swig he drains his tankard, and continues to smoke his pipe.

With a quiet glance around the room, he lowers his voice. "Tell me, what do you know of the lands North of the Shire? The land about Evendim that the folk here call 'Dead Man's Dike'?"

"When last I saw Nauthcel," says a new voice, "he was headed east in search of the Chieftain. This was two months or more ago, and so it is my guess that he found him." From the hallway outside comes the tall, young figure of Lominhur, tugging back a travelling cowl as he blinks in the light. Noting Daerandir's abrupt departure he nods in parting and then looks quizically to the others. "I am fresh from the road, but surely I do not smell that bad?"

Talbinor lifts his eyebrow slightly at Palanonnen's question, but answers it quickly and easily enough. "I know it fairly well," he answers, "and travelled through there many times in years past, though less so recently. But, for all its ancientry and history, it is very quiet most of the time. Why do you ask?"

A bit of a jolt in his seat and Talbinor turns over towards Lominhur at his sudden appearance, before nodding politely at the other Ranger. "A Ranger not used to body odour is no Ranger," Talbinor answers him, with quite a serious expression on his face. "Though your brand is uniquely pungent."

A glance back to the door, and Palanonnen nods his welcome to the new arrival. "Pungent indeed," he muses. Turning back to Talbinor, he continues. "Yes, it is quiet most of the time, but not recently..." Lowering his voice once again, he adds. "I have seen signs of late that trouble me, but only recently have I been able to break away from the area to relay a message. If Halbarad is here, then I need to speak with him as soon as possible."

"Bandits come to Evendim from the North," he whispers gravely.

Catching these last words it seems, Lominhur frowns and turns his head to the Solitary. "From where, brother? It has been a long while since I heard such news."

"Bandits?" Talbinor frowns, thoughtfully, looking down to his tankard at these tidings, his lips pressed tightly together. "That is peculiar," he says after Lominhur has gotten his words in. "I can't imagine there would be much to prey on in those parts; no trade goes north from the Shire that I know of, and the Hobbits themselves likely have nothing worth taking."

Leaning back in his chair, Talbinor looks rather sober and sedate, despite the half-flagon of ale he's just downed. "Indeed odd. But I suppose something must be done about them regardless."

"From the north, I think," answers the Solitary. "They make their camp upon the North Shore. Though they are not likely to invade the Shire, I fear they will make their way toward Bree if we do nothing. Then these simple folk will have more than fires about which to worry. I have done what I can, but they are too many for but one to repel."

He takes a last pull of his pipe, then douses the embers and replaces it within his rucksack. "Where is the Captain and the elf? I will seek them out."

"The Captain is here?" asks Lominhur in surprise; apparently his ears missed that detail. "And with an elf you say? Strange, for when he left Rivendell his aim was to investigate the Yfelwyd. I wonder what has drawn him hither.." Shaking his head as one would to clear one's thoughts he then nods. "Aye, such a threat must be faced at once, I agree brother. You may count on Balanrod to back up your own blade in this."

"I don't know their exact location," Talbinor answers Palanonnen with a small shake of his head and a good, long draught of ale, finishing the tankard off at last and thumping it down resolutely onto the table. "As I said, their objective was to make for the Shire, though I do not think they have done so yet. There has been much traffic on the Road and when I spoke to the Captain's companion they preferred to keep quiet."

Looking back to Lominhur, Talbinor shrugs rather easily. "I was told that they had received another errand from an important voice," he says, simply, before turning back to Palanonnen. "And, of course, my aid is always available to dispel bandits as well."

Palanonnen nods his approval. "Your help would be much appreciated, both of you. And if Halbarad can lend us some aid, this is a threat that I believe we can handle. I will search for them at once."

The Solitary stands quickly, and with a nod to both rangers, makes his exit.

As Palanonnen takes his leave, Lominhur offers another nod of parting ere he looks back to Talbinor. "Well," he offers, "it seems that we have arrived none-too-soon brother. First that thug in the market place, and now this. Have you heard anything on that ruffian's fate at all?"

"And just when I was planning to leave," Talbinor adds with a small grin, nodding to Palanonnen as he departs before looking back to Lominhur. "I still intend on departure, mind, as I hold to my original thought that the Greenway is underwatched by our people." Another, fleeting glance towards where Palanonnen left. "Though the tidings of bandits do give me pause."

For a moment, Talbinor just looks off into space, unusually for him quite still. Then he answers Lominhur's question. "I had heard that he was locked up, but that was many days ago and it was delightfully unspecific. I would be unsurprised if he had already melted back into the population, with all that's been going on."

The sun sinks in the sky and falls below the horizon. Nighttime takes over.

"Aye," agrees the other with a shake of his head. "And with their Guard Chief away, I doubt these people know how to deal with Osred's sort. We will likely have to cross his path again; such a pleasant prospect," he adds with a grimace. "And the Mouse? Where does she linger, do you know?"

"She has been about," Talbinor answers Lominhur, looking back over to him and nodding a few times. "She was staying at this very inn, in fact, though I do not know if she still does. Have seen her often, though not for a few days now, so I cannot be certain." A little shrug, and just a small smirk crosses his face. "She does tend to keep her plans, thoughts, and everything to herself."

"Still," Talbinor smiles, and lifts his hand to count off on his fingers, "there are at least four of us who will be within this city or near to it. And possibly more. I should say Bree has seldom seen so many Rangers as it has of late."

Quirking an eyebrow at Talbinor's choice of words, Lominhur smiles to himself. "Though whether they count it a blessing or a curse, I should not like to say. Perhaps they tolerate us more than usual in the absence of Chief Thistlewool."

Raising a hand to sratch at his stubble, the one named Rush glances about. "Even this Inn seems to be suffering. Can the drought truly have hit these people so hard?"

Talbinor glances around at the Pony as Lominhur does, taking in the heart of this bustling metropolis with a small smile. "That presumes they think we're on the side of law and order," Talbinor points out, looking back to Lominhur and fiddling with the handle of his empty ale tankard as he does so. "Aside from the unfortunate hobbit we saved from strangulation, how many here would say that?"

Finished with his glances, Talbinor leans back in his seat, sliding the empty flagon back a bit with him. "No, I suspect that we are most tolerated simply because they have bigger things to worry about right now. A rather dirty, mysterious Ranger pales next to drought or fire."

"Fire?" says Rush, looking back sharply to Talbinor. "What fire do you speak of Restless?"

Talbinor blinks at the question, and turns in place to point east, towards the Chetwood. "Great flames near Archet," he answers, his voice betraying his surprise. "The smoke is very tall, I'm surprised you hadn't seen it. Came shortly after the first rain did, to the great lament of the population."

Lominhur sits bolt upright at this and his eyes glisten with worry as he glances about. "Archet? That is ill news to me indeed, for there did I spend my youth ere joining our cause. And nay, I saw naught of it, though I cannot fathom why. What details, please brother?"

"I have few details to give," Talbinor admits with a small shrug, looking out the nearest window as if expecting some details to come to him from that direction. "I have been there only in passing, and though there has been much discussion most of it is rather broad and worrisome."

Talbinor presses his lips together for a moment, worriedly, before turning back to Lominhur, and clearing his throat slightly. "I know merely that it started, and to my knowledge it has not yet been brought under control. Many people from Archet have been streaming into the Pony of late, worried about the fire."

Bowing his head in sombre thought, Lominhur's knuckles might be seen to whiten somewhat. At length he replies, "Truth be told, I know not how to feel about this, Restless. My heart wills me to set out at once and see who among those poor folk have been harmed by this. And yet you say that many have fled hither, and so then my mind bids me stay and discover if any of them are people I know... would you counsel your friend?"

Talbinor lifts his eyebrow, the question catching him somewhat off-guard, and he leans forward onto the table, looking down to the wood and thinking about how to answer it. He bites his lower lip thoughtfully, grey eyes boring into the oak, before he straightens up, looks at Lominhur, and answers, his voice carrying all the confidence that his stance earlier did not.

"I expect that Archet is very crowded and busy right now," he says, having apparently thought the matter right through. "If you went there, you would have to cope with chaos and may risk merely getting in the way. But many of those fleeing are drawn here regardless, where things are calmer. I would advise you to monitor from afar, unless some specific need or event drives you forward."

"This fire is one," answers Rush with an edge to his voice, and once again do his fists clench. "Though, you are right brother. I should seek out those who have come already ere venturing off to the danger. The Captain for one has taught me the meaning of caution, and you rmeind me of it."

"And would you quench the flames with merely the power of your rhetoric?" Talbinor asks Lominhur with a small smirk, the fellow Ranger's obvious frustration met with a delicate combination of disagreement and indifference. "I'm certain we've both seen the results of rushing headlong into a situation."

Looking around at the quiet afternoon Pony, Talbinor pauses, his jaw shifted slightly to the left. "I've thought about dashing to the scene of the flames myself, of course. But I do have other errands, and at any rate I lack both the trust of the people and the knowledge of firefighting to be anything but a hinderance."

With an almost sullen nod, Rush sighs and takes a seat at last, his gaze seeking the Common Room's own crackling fire. "Indeed, you are right," he admits with a distant sigh, ere his jaw tightens and his brow grows stern. "What cruel irony that the life I have come to love teaches me to be cautious with the one I used to..."

Talbinor lifts his eyebrow very slightly and pauses, letting the somewhat awkward silence fester between the two Rangers for a moment as he drums his fingers on the table. "Unfortunately, Rangerhood is not always the simplest, easiest of lives," he says, rather lamely, before popping up to his feet.

"At any rate, I should take my leave," he says, grabbing his pack from the table. "Tharbad is far away and I hall never arrive if I never leave." With that, a polite nod, and a few coins tossed onto the table to pay for his drink, he turns about and takes his leave from the Prancing Pony.