Bree: The Hill Watch Constabulary

[Tharmáras]

We have to keep watchers all around the fence.
~ Barliman, The Lord of the Rings:
The Return of the King - Homeward Bound

And there are some folk in Bree who are
not to be trusted.... Bill Ferny, for instance. He
has an evil name in the Bree-land, and queer folk call at
his house. / Not all...Southerners mean well; and as for
Ferny, he would sell anything to anybody; or
make mischief for amusement.
~ Aragorn, from The Lord of the Rings:
The Fellowship of the Ring - Strider

Mysterious wanderers...called...Rangers...brought news
from afar, and told strange forgotten tales which were
eagerly listened to; but the Bree-folk did not make friends of them.
/ Not all the faces were friendly, nor all the words shouted. But
Strider seemed to be held in awe by most of the Bree-landers...
~ The Narrator, The Lord of the Rings:
The Fellowship of the Ring - A Knife in the Dark

...the lowest and vilest alleys...do not present a more dreadful
record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside. /
Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which
may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser.
~ Sherlock Holmes, from The Adventure of the Copper Beeches

The Bree-lands are a sleepy picturesque community of Mortals and Hobbits. Most of the people are cheerful and independent, but...not all the villagers and visitors are friendly and neither are some visitors. To protect the old meeting of ways is the Hill Watch. This force of Big Folk and Little Folk native to the realm are captained by mortal Sheriff Miles Brackenbrook (Tharmarás) and his halfing Deputy Appledore (@Sur Vanar Utírieste).

Belvedere is the headquarters of the Bree guards. It was once a watchtower of the ancient monarchy of Cardolan but has been restored for operations. It is centered on Bree-hill on its western slopes above the Road. Its name is derived from its beautiful view of the fair fields and tamed woodland of the Bree-land. Police have their offices located within the turret to hear alarming news from concerned citizens, out-of-towners, Rangers of the North, and Istari. The prison of Baldric Brennan (@Moriel ) is near the courthouse on the precinct's property.

In this activity RPers may post as residents and guests of the Bree-land coming to Belvedere for help. Dúnedain are respected and Istari honoured; their warnings of danger within or toward the Bree-land are appreciated. RPers can make their own storylines here which can be private or involve other members; Officers can act alone solving a case started by themselves or can be partnered with another Watcher. There's the option of coming to either Miles or the Deputy to be given a mission but we'll be mostly in the background. This thread largely serves as a Free RP to pursue criminals of the Bree-land and figure out unsolved mysteries with other members or on your own as a character; writing within Belvedere, its prison, and the Gates are also acceptable as well as travelling the Bree-land and the Chetwood on your Hill Watch adventures. Officers on patrol or completing quests may do so here or in the Bree-land Free RP, the Bree Market, and The Inn of the Prancing Pony. Each post will be counted toward promotion no matter which thread you're writing an Officer character doing his or her duty.

Outlaw characters are, of course, allowed her to be pitted against the Hill Watch and ruffian gangs are encouraged to be formed in this thread or in the ones mentioned above. Incarcerated inmates can interact with gaolers and Warden Baldric inside the prison.


Rules:

1.) Please review the Roleplaying Code of Conduct before posting roleplaying-code-of-conduct . No spamming or godmoding please. I would like to provide a Tolkienesque atmosphere within this RP so please abstain from writing sexual allusions/content/jokes and fandom/franchise crossovers.

2.) Review the Archives information regarding the Hill Watch before you RP. viewtopic.php?f=10&t=192 . This is the link to the Imladris Activities General OOC for all out of character comments regarding this thread.

3.) Regarding Some Canon Characters: Tharmarás will write Aragorn here delivering news to the HIll Watch and sometimes fighting along side them on missions, garnering renown among the citizens who admire him. @Sur Vanar Utírieste will RP Bill Ferny to create mischief; if you are playing a criminal and would like to plot with her, she would be happy to interact with you. If anyone wants to play Harry Goatleaf the Gatekeeper, a bad Watcher, let me know in the Imladris Activities General OOC thread first before posting as him and I'll list him as yours to write in the Placeholder post below this one.

[Tharmáras]

Hill Watch Roster:

Tharmáras - Sherriff Miles Brackenbrook, Marshal Howard Ravenwood,
Captain Ann Snapdragon, Captain Vincent Snapdragon, Lieutenant Chip Valerian

@Sur Vanar Utírieste - Deputy Appledore

@Moriel Warden Baldric Brennan

@Ercassie - Constable Clayton Dogwood

@Rillewen - Lieutenant Peter Larkson

Canons:

Tharmáras - Aragorn.

Sur - Bill Ferny.

Harry Goatleaf: Presently Vacant.

[Tharmáras]

Lieutenant Charles "Chip" Valerian knocked on the Sherriff's door in a rhythmical cadence. He aimed to be annoying. Chip succeeded: Miles refused to answer until several minutes later a gruff voice yelled the young redheaded man to enter. Miles Brackenbrook sat at his wide desk, carved of solid walnut.

He was a large man, barrel-chested and fearsomely bearded. Miles once sported a mustache but his wife and daughter bluntly told him they hated the thing. His breeches and jacket were colored tan as was his broad-brimmed hat lying atop a mound of reports needing his attention. His Sherriff's ringed gold star was pinned to his coat's lapel.

"Morning is for coffee and contemplation," reminded Miles and took one last gulp of the blessed drink. "We've discussed this many times, Charles."

"Chip, sir. I ain't-"

"You aren't," corrected Miles in exasperation.

" - the only one who uses nicknames," continued Chip defensively, restraining a grin, always keen to irritate Miles every shift. "Plenty of folks call Clayton Dogwood Clay."

"Chip, Clay," Miles repeated in utter distaste. The older man barked out a humorless laugh then scowled at Chip. "It's Beren Camlost's fault, corrupting youths like yourself with silly ideas." He gestured at the decorative tin box Chip was holding. "What is that?" he asked, although he already assumed it was treats from Willy Wonderboom's bakery. Some Officers enjoyed delectable unhealthy snacks during their shift. Miles was infamously known for his interest despite Joyce's warnings he was getting fat yet he stubbornly boasted of his robust frame and manly strength, declaring he was strong enough to tear the arms off a troll although he never encountered one before.

"A triple Chocolate muffin, sir!" answered Chip, drawing closer to the Sherriff's desk. "Chocolate is the paste made from the roasted and ground cacao pods Kfir bought from the South." He showed him a moist and fluffy sour cream chocolate muffin. It was huge, generously covered with with dark and white chocolate chunks.

Miles flexed his big hand in raging anxiety, biting his lip.

"Just one won't make ya fat, sir," counselled the forrester in cheerful assurance as he set one on a napkin for the Sherriff. "I've been sharing them and this is all I have left, just for you."

Miles savored the muffin, shutting his eyes in a joyful groan. He took his time finishing the delicious quickbread. "Don't tell the wife," he mumbled afterwards.

"Not a word, sir," promised Chip and poured him another cup of Staddle coffee.

"Whatever happened to Kfir?" asked Miles. "I haven't seen that gent in months."

"I don't know, sir," replied Chip in all honesty. "Kfir and that scary big oaf Uhta, they vanished around the same time as the woodcutters last winter. I was just on my way to Alfred's House in the maple grove. Ann and Vincent have gotten complaints from families of the missing lumberers. I'd like to join their search."

"Get a move on, kid." Miles waved him off. "Don't take that mandolin of yours either!" Miles snapped at him, pointing at the round-back instrument resembling a lute strapped to his back. Chip was a skillful musician, one of the finest in Bree, and a lyricist for the Sparrow Theatre. "You can fun on your own time, son! Do your duty!"

"It's called boosting morale, sir!" Chip left the office, strumming his mandolin. The merry buoyant music stayed with Miles long after Chip was gone; he wouldn't tell anyone but it brightened his day.

[Ercassie]

Amber Finch,
entering the Sheriff’s Office

“I believe that those two Southerners disappeared just about the time that one of them ate the Prancing Pony out of food, The other probably ran out of coin around the same time and was forced to move off to earn more.”

Amber took full advantage of Chip’s departure to halt the office door from shutting behind him. She approached the Sheriff’s desk with a lack of propriety. It had become by now something of a familiar haunt, so much so that the young woman waited for Miles to pull her out a chair. Being noticeably pregnant had it’s benefits and prime amongst those was making men uncomfortable. Her father obviously topped that list, but Mr Brackenbrook was a public servant, emphasis on serve.

She coughed, just in case he was not awake enough yet to remember this. If the disappearance of people who did not even live in Bree, had no kinfolk there, had merely stayed in the inn and had the look about them of folks passing through Bree, had nonetheless somehow managed to garner the Hillwatch’s attention, then it either didn’t bode well for her grandfather’s vanishing, or the case of that local landlord clearly must have been solved already.

“There are cake crumbs on your shirt,” she mentioned, helpfully. “I don’t suppose you have any reason to suspect that the missing woodsmen are linked at all to my still missing grandfather ?” Miss Finch tried on her most convincing shade of desperate. And it wasn’t solely a flimsy excuse to come see her fiancé at work either. It was Clay’s day off, and he’d said he’d be heading out to finish fixing up the roof on that house he was readying for her. For them. Clay had also said that Amber shouldn’t be ambling all the way out to the Watch Office, in her condition.

Thankfully for her, Cole had been heading into town with his milk deliveries, and thankfully some more, her brother fell into that category of men made uncomfortable by pregnant women. It was as though they presumed she would erupt with no warning and shower them with babies. He couldn't stand seeing her cry and still, he'd visibly winced every time the cart went over a small bump. Talk about delicate ! Honestly, Men.

“Can I make a request for a search party to look out my grandfather as well ? Or are the Watch all already busy with that. I don’t see any of them sat here but you and you must be busy with 'other' things of course.”

She sighed, fanning her face with one hand. Dorian Bay had been missing now a full year, with no sign of him or his horse and cart ever since he’d vanished on his rounds to collect rent money. It had left his younger daughter Allysum to manage the family business as well as she could, and embarrassingly far better than her father ever had. It had also left Dorian’s widow crying all the day long on her eldest daughter Aster. And since Amber still lived with her mother, that meant that it had become her whole life also. At a time that she ought be thinking of new life, she could gain no closure on what all feared by this time, must, be a death. Amber loved her grandfather, and she wanted him found. She didn't want to be crying all day but she couldn't seem to stop herself from doing that. Unless said Grandfather were found ! Everyone had told Amber that she couldn’t go romping around Archet where Dorian had last been seen. But they had never said that she could not bother the brave men who were paid to do just that !

“Please, Sheriff. I know if anyone can find my grandfather, it is you,” she watered her long eyelashes and shrank upon herself, pitifully. The act so convincing that she had forgotten it was in fact true.