There’s so much to do; to say, to explain, that we rarely know where to start. Where to begin this story or tale or random musing. I don’t know even to whom or to why I am confessing here, but I trust this to paper for my own purpose - to comprehend.
Why can’t I just be sober and face the shadows of my past, of what is lost and what is not. Sometimes it’s vague. Will we ever truly know? I had a burning desire before I went - a burning need before I came back. I swore vengeance for my sister’s death - and I was ready, I had a goal. I had a will. When I came back I lost a lot of those things for a long while: roaming Bree in a dreadfully drunken state, passing out with a bottle somewhere. I drank a lot - too much. I usually rented a room for the night or loose consciousness in a field somewhere. There wasn’t much else to do in that time. I needed the introspection, I guess. I needed the time alone. Then I needed to understand it all. Evangelline didn’t make it easy for me, neither. But I forgave none the less. I understand now more than before. I still cherish the last time we were together. It was rare.
After I killed my father, I’ve found myself drowning in ale. Consumed by its hollow and comforting embrace. It offered me all its forgetful and grateful rewards, saw me through the day. It cocooned me from what it is I need to focus on. It's good to just sit here, sober, and think for a while. It all depends from the thoughts, of course.
I can see Lizz here in the Comb and Wattle give me that look sometimes, and I just wish I can tell her to go fuck herself. I know what she's thinking - it's not true. But she serves me food and I’m grateful. The fire is always warm and it’s quiet here. I ate a lot today. Must have been three bowls of her rabbit stew. Guess I’m making up for lost weight, too. Since I’ve cut a bit down upon my midnight degradation, I’ve become uncannily hungry. Perhaps I’m starting to look after myself and not focused on someone else’s state of being.
When I reached the Pony today - I still don’t know why I keep on returning there. Perhaps I was looking for Piperel, perhaps just needed to be around people. I don’t know - I didn’t expect to witness the scene that met my entrance, however. Looming over Tosie and about to kick her head in, a lumbering fool thought he’d show her a thing or two. I know it’s none of my business. It has nothing to do with me, but there was already a group forming to watch the spectacle and no one did anything, just watched. Which surprised me. Were they so scared the bastard would turn on them next, bludgeon them to a pulp after the girl lies half dead on the ground? It made me wonder. But I had to do something or the poor lass would have had more than a bruise, albeit an ugly one. I might have been a bit harsh towards Tosie, I know, but I got worked up. I did apologize after, and meant every word of the apology, yes. I didn't want to linger by her side, however, lest Corrben thinks I'm moving in on his ground.
Corrben came in later and smashed the fool's face bloody, for which I actually felt a slight tint of satisfaction. Although, I still don’t like the Watchman's obnoxiousness, neither his inexplicable self-righteous presumption that he can just poke his nose into whatever he wishes, like me and Pip. I tell you, he’s going to get hurt carrying on like that. Pip should do him good and warn her brother. Perhaps I just should keep to myself and stay quiet. It's been working wonderfully so far.
As the evening progressed, Pip came in. It was good seeing her, although even just quickly. She wants me to teach her to defend herself, to which I agreed of course. Last, Taala asked me to take a pair of newer initiates of the on a trip to the Shire for the Dawn, show them the ropes to that caravan contract, and so I’m basically just waiting on that. I can’t say I’m sad that I'd be gone from Bree the day. It’s always good to just get out, too. See them cheerful little folk. They always make laugh with their little ways, their little homes, living their little lives. I envy them. I’ll have to leave Pip behind unfortunately this time, which is a pity, as I’ve come to enjoy her company... a great deal. She's helped me a lot to keep my mind off things. I’m beginning to become very fond of her, of our time together. I just don’t know what to say - she told me she loves me, but I don’t want to lie or make hollow promises. I’ve learned a long time ago that promises can’t always be kept. And I'm not always a bastard, I hope.
When she left I met a curious bard with the hiccups. That was extremely amusing. I’ll remember her. Her name was… Cheyse? I’m horrible with names.
I had a few drinks, but at least I’m sitting here feeling strangely level-headed.
