((This is written by Felanarth, while camping in a safe place by night in the Lone-Lands))
I hate this place, it gives me the shivers. I left Bree by dusk and entered these lands by nightfall, the worse time possible to be wandering around. The silence is scary, not a single howl of a wolf nor the whistle of the wind. It is simply too calm.
The inhabitants here match the landmark. I rested a bit on a place called "The Forsaken Inn" and truly, the name justifies it. It is a forsaken place, filled with forsaken people. Sad and always looking down people, not a single welcome was given to me. The only person who was willing to help me was a man I met when I saw some fire crackling near Weathertop, one of those rangers I believe, Candaith was his name I believe (perhaps a friend of the Warden, that would explain his courtesy). He told me that goblins and orcs roamed freely across the lands there, and they were not the only danger. Unfortunately, he was right. I was careless enough to explore the region next to the Weather Hills and set camp there, in a place which was not safe. I was ambushed by three of them, and if it was not for my recent training with Xeplemen or my bow, I would have been dead, and probably eaten too.
The only thing that still gives me some hope is the thought of getting to Rivendell. I believe I am expected to get there soon, as the Grey Warden made sure I would be welcomed there. Always willing to help, that man. I hope the former friend I am pursuing will still be there when I arrive.
Might as well go now. The sooner I leave these lands the better.
