A Hobbit Sword, Arlea Gored

Lieve was in one of the back rooms of the Pony, practising her harp. It was rather full in the common room, so she had sought out a place with less people. In fact, for now, she was alone there. But not for long, a hobbit came into the room with a wide grin on her face. She was in full armour and wielding a rather rustylooking sword that looked like it might fall apart at any moment. Lieve looked at her in surprise. She had met all manner of people at the Pony, but she had never seen a hobbit female dressed in full armour wielding a sword and shield before! In spite of her heartache, she was curious. The hobbit's name was Rosihra. She was a member of the Defenders of the Free Peoples and she was claiming to have slain a genuine dragon. Lieve listened to the tale, fascinated by the hobbit's imagination. At one point, the sword, being swung vigorously to demonstrate exactly how Rosihra had poked it at the dragon, came apart into two pieces. Lieve put a hand over her mouth to hide her amusement. The hobbit looked at the broken sword mournfully. 'The wizard said it was magical and would never break! What am I to do now?' Lieve suggested she might want to talk to a weaponsmith about fixing the sword. Rosihra agreed reluctantly that might be for the best and headed out to find one. Lieve, having forgotten her own sorrows for a little while, turned back to look into the fire, brooding for a time before she realised she needed to get back home. A day or two later she met the hobbit again, who asked if she would like to join the Defenders. Lieve agreed, not quite sure what it meant. After having spoken to the hobbit, Lieve was on her way back to the main room, only to find Arlea limping along, bleeding profusely from her leg. She had been on her way to the market to shop when she had been attacked and robbed, the brigands stabbing her in the leg when she was not quick enough to do as they demanded. Lieve was horrified. Who could do such a thing to her friend? Arlea looked at Lieve, shaking her head. 'Lieve, sometimes I wonder if you and I grew up in the same Bree,' she said. 'There must be a hundred brigands out there in the streets! People who will cut your throat as soon as look at you?' Lieve looked shocked. 'I know I have had a sheltered upbringing, but can it really be as bad as you say?' she asked. Arlea snorted. 'I was just robbed! And they cut my leg because I wouldn't give them what I wanted straight away! That piece of jewellery was given to me by my brothers, it meant a lot to me.' Lieve nodded contritely. 'Now, if you have finished being shocked, would you please find me some thread and a needle,' Arlea continued. Lieve ran off to do as she was asked. Having found a needle and some thread in a drawer, she went to boil it up to sterilise it then rushed back to find Arlea sitting on a bed in a guestchamber. Having pulled her skirts up around her thighs to get at the wound, she was dabbing at it, trying to staunch the bleeding. Lieve handed her the needle and thread without a word. Taking them with a grimace, Arlea began to stitch the wound closed. It was not very long, but seemed rather deep. Arlea seemed to be more annoyed and hurt than frightened that it had even happened. 'Someone needs to see about all these brigands!' she exclaimed while stitching away. Lieve agreed. But what was there to be done? The Bree Guard was never around when you needed them it seemed. Arlea finished stitching the wound and went limping about her business. After making sure she would be alright, Lieve took her leave and went home, deep in thought about what had happened to Arlea.