After a hard day's work the evening found Fiontann laying his hammock and contemplating, in his right hand he had his pipe, a thick cloud of smoke was around him and on the ground a big jar of ale. Every now and then he'd reach for the jar to take a sip before laying back again to smoke, it was a clear sky, but slightly cold, autumn is close and it starts to show. Fion laid there enjoying the quiet and his drink, looking at the stars and hearing the neekerbreekers' noises from the other side of Chetwood. A good night, pleasant. The tree on the other side of the yard stirred, as the wind blew and made the leaves rustle, it drew Fiontann's attention, seeing how one small thing could make many small things move and all of them made the branches move and then the whole tree if the wind was stronger.
The image of the whole tree moving against the wind came to his mind and then he heard the Watchman's voice again in his mind, like some days earlier when he spoke of the Southrons and the trouble they cause. Fiontann never liked the Watch, one can safely say he hates it, but this time he sympathised with the man and his agony for his hometown. Nygell was on the steps of the Prancing Pony when Fion saw him that day, he was looking at some Elves playing their music in Bree! After some banter Fion managed to make the Watchman go after them and complain, he was eager anyway but Fion gave him the final push. Soon and fearing things would escalate he went there to take the Watchman away and into the Pony for some drinks. Fion couldn't say for sure, was it the drink? Just a jar of ale enough to get the man drunk or it was genuine despair and agony about the future and welfare of Bree? He spoke almost with hatred against Elves and foreigners, with a Dwarf they met, Brakken. Fiontann didn't mind the Elves, he knew a few and that was enough to make up his mind and know what they are, but the Southrons...
Southrons are trouble in Bree, that he knows too well, he spent his days defending Bree from bandits and Angmarim so far and now some Southrons with coins came to take over it silently. Buying land, shops, taking over trade, and no one would do anything, not many can and those who can won't. Nygell was angry at that, as was Fion, but violence isn't the solution, Bree-landers aren't made for violence and they certainly aren't ready for a riot like that. It would be easy to instigate one to drive Southrons out as the Watchman said, but the Southrons came already armoured and full of weapons, Bree-landers need at least months of training. And that is what Fiontann can't understand. Southrons fled their lands like the cowards they are, to escape from conflicts and war, then they come to Bree trying to take over everything, any way they can, even with force, contradicting... "Damn bastards" he said quietly. Deep down he agreed with the Watchman, but the logic in him, as much as he has said no, no to bloodshed, no to violence into the town! The Watch has to do with what it has, maybe use more force when absolutely necessary but that is what they should do, their job, despite them being useless. Tyloo is capable, Lieta is a great asset to them and Nygell is stubborn enough to get things done. And FIon told him, if they need him, he'll be there for the sake of Bree.
Troubling thoughts and then another came, more troubling, the woman that he met some days ago and befriended, bet on a spar with too, was stabbed. He heard it from Barliman and went to see her, in Beggar's Alley. Such things happen to us in this line of work she had said, showing unnatural understanding, but Fion wouldn't have it. The woman gave him a description and Fion intended to see if he could find out anything. A short man with red heair and a mask, a short man could be almost any Bree-lander but red hair... Masked and hooded men are always in the Prancing Pony, it'd be hard to find him unless he'd pull every hood and mask down. But all of them to his eyes are cowards and bastards, can't waste time with questioning each one. But he was determined to find out. He was certain it was a foreigner. Tyloo came to his mind again, her and her swords and blew one last ring of smoke and went back to the Crafting Hall. He said he'll make her a pair of nice swords and he will go on, she needs a better pair. WIth the ore that will be left he may make one or two more swords for the other Watchmen too if they need it. He'd be ashamed to admit it, making weapons for them, but he would, because he knew them!
The above is all Fiontann's IC thoughts, there is nothing OOC there!
