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The Bramble and the Rose

posted Jan 9, 2011, 3:11 PM by Yola Plumblossom   [ updated Jan 10, 2011, 3:27 AM ]
  A personal (and somewhat belated) recount of the recent Shire Game event in Bramblebury by Nimelia Stoutfoot.           


As has been reported elsewhere in this newspaper, Master Dodero invited to a game of Hiders and Seekers on Dec 28th.
I had never taken part in such a game before, and it proved to be more fun than is befitting my position of Bramblebury Shirriff to admit. I would, therefore,  like to use this opportunity to thank the organizers as well as all attendees for making it an entertaining event.

Arriving somewhat late, I missed most of the instructions given by Master Dodero - which, dear reader, could be the sole reason for my poor performance during the game, as far as you know.

At the start of the first round, when everybody scurried off, I scurried along, looking for a good hiding spot. However, at this point my bounder training kicked in, and I ended up in a location of strategic value, with good coverage of the road in both directions. When it dawned on me that I had gotten my priorities mixed up, it was already too late, and it was none other than our deputy mayor himself that spotted me.

In the second round, I reminded myself that I was supposed to hide, not defend Bramblebury from invasion. Peering to and fro for a good spot, I was carried by the flow of hiders and finally washed ashore someplace - by tripping and ending up face down amidst some bushes. I decided to remain there, hoping that since I myself did not quite know where I was, others would have trouble finding me, too.
But alas, barely a pie duration later (which is about five pies on the Simbo scale) the seekers came closing in like a pack of wolves, and that was that.

The third and final round commenced. This time I meant business, picking one of the more remote burrows to hide up on the roof, where nobody would ever find me. Now, I wish I could say that I leapt up there in a single bound, but the fact of the matter is, these roofs are a lot higher than they look. If any of you readers watched me dangling there, I'll have you know that I was hanging on for dear life and it wasn't funny. And eventually, I did get up. I was foiled again, however, being found a few minutes before the end of the round. I don't know how they found me up there - I can only assume their special hobbit sense had led them to the emergency pie rations in my pocket.

After the game, both the winners (the deputy mayor, for example) and the losers (me, for example) gathered around the Bramblebury party tree, and indulged in music, dancing, pies, and biscuits.

With some reluctance, I must also note a very unusual and unfortunate incident: Amidst the merry gathering, a veritable fight broke out between Masters Bovso and Dyronbrand. Some serious accusations were made, but since the issue has taken quite a dramatic turn in the meantime, this is not the time nor place to elaborate.

Now, the aforementioned incident might seem to suggest it is for good reason that our homestead carries the bramble in its name, and not the rose. However, I would like to point out that it was an exceptional occurrence in an otherwise pleasant and thriving community. With many exciting social events - well attended by residents and friends from near and far - there is, in fact, quite a lot of rose in Bramblebury.



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