Blackbent awoke with a pounding headache in an unfamiliar bed. His foggy vision cleared to reveal a wooden ceiling as a slightly musty odor greeted him. Had he awoken in The Pony? No, this may be the Combe and Wattle Inn judging by that smell and how uncomfortable the bed proved to be. Was the last week or two spent camping in the South Bree Fields a drunken dream? Tenderly he roused himself to sit in the bed, his right hand feeling for the back of his head which greeted his touch with a sharp sting of pain. Clearly he had either fallen or been struck hard on the back of his head to cause such a lingering bruised pain. The sight of wrought iron bars and a disinterested watcher seated across the room quickly revealed that he was, in fact, within the Bree-town Jail. His temples pounded and throbbed with the intensity of his headache.
“What on earth happened…?” he’d say to himself, still groggy from whatever left him this headache. Much to his surprise, he received an answer: “Well-well, sleep’in beauty awoke! Must’ve been one grand night drinking to have taken a tumble like that, aye? Ha-ha!” The voice was incredibly gruff as if the man had gargled with gravel. Blackbent cast his gaze to the source of the voice revealing a worn and weathered man with hardened features leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the cell. The stranger‘s features were curled into a mirthful grin showing his smile which lacked a few teeth.
“Ha! I can’t say that’s the case unfortunately. If it were, I’d wager I’d be staring at at ugly woman in my bed rather than just an ugly man in my room. I trust for the sake of my stomach I don’t have your ‘princely kiss’ to thank for my awakening, eh?” Blackbent responded with an amused tone of voice albeit annoyed given the rough man’s voice was loud and uncomfortable to listen to with his pounding headache.
Tsking was heard in response from the rough fellow which was followed by a response which was equally amused and annoyed in its own right, “Now-now a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell!” The two glared at each other for a moment in silence, scowling; however, the silence was soon broken by Blackbent who began to chuckle heartily, building to a good laugh as the other man joined in. With eachother's mettle satisfactorily tested in their mutual chiding, the pair could relax their posturing at least for the time being.
“How long have I been out?” Blackbent asked once the laugher had died down, turning to set his still booted feet on the ground as he sat on the edge of the bed. He’d press the index and middle finger of his right hand onto his right temple, as if trying to sooth the pounding he felt.
“Ah, not too long I'd wager. Watch brought you in not too long ago come to think of it.” The rough voiced man answered, looking Blackbent over momentarily before speaking again “You’re that Briarwood fellow aren’t you?” He’d ask, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall of the cell. Blackbent would cut a cautious look to the man, nodding before replying “Aye, that’s what they call me. How did you know my name? Don’t tell me I now speak in my sleep.”
The rough man would chuckle. “Ah, rest easy then! You looked the part of the sketch on a couple of those posters the Capt’n had posted up here and there. Seems they were keen on bringing you in for questioning about a robbery on the road” the strange man said matter-of-factly. Blackbent would rub his brow, glancing from under the palm of his hand “A robbery? Well that sounds serious.” The strange man would nod in agreement “Oh yes, but only if you actually did it.” Blackbent chuckled to himself. “And you think I did it? Who are you anyway?” The strange man moved to sit on his own bed before speaking. “Ah, I liked the tune of being called Prince earlier. How about that?”
Blackbent strikes a thin lipped expression “You expect me to call you Prince?” Prince chuckled in response “I’m willing to bet it’s as real as that Briarwood name, or was it Blackbriar? C’mon now, I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ve heard of you. Word travels quick in Bree, especially in Beggar’s Alley you know.” Blackbent shrugged. “What’s wrong with a man having many names? I-” the conversation was cut short unfortunately as a Watchman approached the cell.
“Mister Briarwood, right? Good that you’re awake. Feeling well enough for questions?” The young Watcher asks, reading the key to unlock the cell. Blackbent would pay a glance to Prince before turning to the Watcher.
“Ah, certainly! I’ve been meaning to ask you folk some questions since I awoke. Kind of you to keep me safe and sound in a cell while I recovered” the bandit said warmly to the Watcher. “Oh I meant for Mister Heathstraw to ask you questions, but you may ask some of your own I suppose” the young Watchman responded, unlocking the cell and beckoning the bandit over. Blackbent would rise to his feet, nodding in farewell to the man he came to know as Prince before exiting the cell. Once the jail cell was locked the young watcher would escort Blackbent to a backroom of the jail to speak with Second Watcher Heathstraw.
“Right in here, take a seat” the young watcher said, motioning for Blackbent to sit at a table. Second Watcher Heathstraw was already seated, going through a few documents on the table, looking up to beckon the man in. “Ah, thank you Mister Greenleaf I’ll take it from here. Come along now Briarwood, come and take a seat.” Heathstraw said having looked up from his documents, putting them aside as he produced a journal of sorts to write in. “Seems you’ve had quite the eventful day or so” the watchman said, taking up a quill to dip into the inkwell on the desk before writing the date at the top of the page as Blackbent took a seat.
“Aye, can’t say it’s been a pleasant one, Heathstraw was it?” The sound of the door closing could be heard as to leave the pair some privacy. “That’s right, Second-Watcher Heathstraw if you’d like, but Heathstraw is fine enough by me” the Watcher said while finishing writing the header for his entry “So tell me mister Briarwood, how did you get here? What do you remember?” Blackbent leaned back in his chair glancing here and there in the room as he recounted his story, head still pounding.
He had been camping in the South Bree Fields for the last two weeks or so to hunt and trap within the open fields and woods of Breeland before the frost came. The last thing he could remember was having put a pot of stew over the fire with the meat from a hare had caught in one of his noose traps earlier that day and soothing May, his horse, after she had become spooked by something in the brush. Before he knew it, all was black and he was waking up in the cell with a pounding headache that lingered still.
Heathstraw diligently took notes, glancing up every so often as he listened to the man tell his tale. “Hmm, I see. Seems you left town around the time that we heard word of a robbery on the East Road heading towards the Knotwood Village out in the homesteads. Do you happen to know anything about that?”
Blackbent furrowed his brow to the man, feigning surprise in his voice as he responded “There was a robbery?” Heathstraw was stone faced as he watched the man across the table.
“Oh yes, a woman was robbed of her coin on the road by a highwayman. He didn’t bother with her parcel though for some reason. Tell me Mister Briarwood, have you been to The Pony lately? Perhaps you’ve heard word of the man we’re looking for?” The Watcher asked, readying his quill.
Blackbent audibly sighed, shaking his head as he responded. “Oh, I think I was in The Pony before I left, but unfortunately I haven’t heard anything about this robbery. That poor woman, is she alright? She wasn’t harmed was she?”
Heathstraw regarded the man’s response curiously as he jotted down a few notes. “Oh the woman is fine fortunately, although it’s a shame that you haven’t heard anything.”
Blackbent glanced at the notebook as the Watcher wrote. “Aye, terribly sorry I couldn’t be of more help Second Watcher. I’m glad to hear she is alright though, but uh- what does this have to do with how I ended up in this place?” Blackbent responded, somewhat cautious in tone.
Heathstraw shrugged, taking a folded piece of parchment from the side of the test and pushing it on the table to Blackbent “We found this pinned to you outside of the jail. Seems someone believes you are responsible for the robbery Mister Briarwood.”
Blackbent would read the piece of parchment ((shown below)), scowling “You’ve got to be kidding me! A bunch of lies!” The note was tossed back onto the table as Blackbent continued to refute its claims “Who’s to say it wasn’t the highwayman or his friends who did this to throw you folk off their trail? I'd wager they're the ones who knocked me out to be the scape-goat!”
Heathstraw watched Blackbent, quietly making a note on the page of the journal before speaking “You tell me Briarwood, it’s not the first time I’ve seen your name come up. Seems you’re quite good at making trouble in The Pony, particularly after a few drinks. I also hear you don’t take kindly to the Watch. What were the words? Oh yes, ‘Mayor’s lap-dogs’ and 'bandits by another name' you called us or so I heard.” The Watcher scowled.
Blackbent and Heathstraw seemed to square off by staring at each other in silence before the bandit spoke “I’m sure you’ve been called worse things by better people. Besides, Heathstraw I’m sure I’m not the only one to say and do foolish things after downing a few of Barli’s best, eh?” Blackbent chuckles, smiling dismissively.
“Hmm.” The Watcher vocalizes, clearly unamused by the man’s words. “Fortunately for you, Mister Briarwood, I have nothing to hold you here other than hearsay and allegations that you may be responsible for the robbery. As for those who brought you here, I only have the word of one of my watchers who claimed it to be two masked lithe men or perhaps women in hoods and masks who brought you here; although, they departed just as swiftly as they arrived. They didn't even have the courtesy to make a statement. If they had done so, then perhaps this exchange would be a bit different” Heathstraw grabbed the parchment note, sliding it towards himself to place on top of the documents he had been reviewing previously. “But listen to me carefully Briarwood, my eyes and ears are open and see and hear much both in and out of Bree. Should you be accused again of this sort of crime you will suffer the consequences. You may find yourself tied to the post outside the jail in all of your shame like that man who burned that poor woman’s farm or worse. Do you understand?” Heathstraw said grimly.
Blackbent listened intently before giving the Watcher a hollow smirk. “Clear as crystal Second Watcher. Suppose I can make an allegation of my own?”
Heathstraw finished writing a few more notes to himself before glaring up at the man and responding curtly “Go on.”
Blackbent tilted his head to the side, and smiled “Suppose I can allege that I have been robbed and assaulted by whomever brought me to this place? I left a great deal at my campsite, including my horse, and I suppose they must’ve stolen it all by now. Or does your sense of justice only extend to those who you like?”
Heathstraw regarded Blackbent for a moment in silence and disdain, sitting back in his chair a bit "I am not keen on vigilantes taking the law into their own hands, I assure you Mister Briarwood. The horse that you were tied to was a mare of a red roan blanket coloration. You are welcome to it as compensation for your trouble. I would suggest that you attempt to return to your campsite and see that all is still in order. If it isn't, then report what is missing as stolen to the Watch. We will keep an eye out for it."
Blackbent smiled, hearing the description of his horse, May, "Ah, that sounds like May to me! Good to hear that the old girl is still with me even now."
Heathstraw did not look up from his journal, he was too busy writing down the allegations that Blackbent made "Then that is one less thing you must worry about, Mister Briarwood. You are free to leave, but I urge you to stay out of trouble. I have heard stories from older Watchers regarding your run ins with ruffians and bandits in the past. Don't think of me as some naive fool you may pull tricks on. I know more about you than you realize." Heathstraw cut his eyes to the man as if to drive the warning home.
Blackbent would rise from his chair, offering an appreciative nod "Oh I understand fully, Second Watcher. Do keep in mind though that all of those old stories are well in the past or exaggerated by bored Watchmen wanting stories to make their shifts seem more interesting. Besides, the foolishness of youth drives a man to do many things they later regret, so don't hold those against me." The old bandit chuckles, watching Heathstraw continue to write in the book, glancing up in silence as if to say ~we are done here.~
Blackbent would leave the small room and walk out of the jail free as a bird; however, he would feel that a target was now painted upon his back as far as the Watch was concerned. And who knows how badly his reputation was marred by the wanted poster being around Bree? He'd walk to May, stroking the horse's neck as he took the reigns from the hitching post. It seemed that the horse was without a saddle, but this wouldn't be the first time he had rode a horse bareback. Carefully climbing onto the horse, Blackbent would drive the May to towards the Greenway so that he may return to his camp and salvage what was left. He could only hope that whoever attacked him did not make off with all that he had in the time he had been out in the jail.
