The whole damn side of my body is in excruciating pain. I can still remember how it felt when the dagger ripped open my leathers and pierced through my skin, how it entered into my back and almost killed me. The thoughts of death, the blackness that surrounded me, the blur that played off in my mind, of things that needs to be said and done, it all was staged out in this play of frustrated regrets. I was helpless, useless to still the crimson life that spewed out of my body like a torrent let lose from the river, staining the world with what I was. I thought I was truly dying. And then the pain. The pain of life burning brightly into my back with Dristin's hot knife, as he tried to sear the wound shut, shot me back into that forgiving abyss of blackness. When I eventually opened my eyes in the infirmary, saw Pip's face, this incalculable wave of relief washed over me. It's was indescribable how much I did not want to die then.
Where the dagger pierced my back, it's burning like a scorching coal sizzling into my flesh. I've spent most my days after I came back from the infirmary in the Jail house at Piperel's apartment, recuperating after the attack, where I'm writing this. She's off to the Dawn Hall probably, helping out in the kitchen or whatever they do. I still don't want her doing a maid's job, but unfortunately I'm not one in charge of the Dawn's purse, or the hiring of help. She's grateful for the job, yes, seems to be a bounce in her step lately.
I was minding my own business, counting my coins after a few ales at the Pony, on my blissful way to Beggars Alley. I wanted to see how Rocho was doing and if he could keep his brother out of the Jail house. It was a quiet day with not much happening after “The Bear” got captured. There's not been many contracts out and the trip to the Shire really left me exhausted and emotionally drained. Perhaps that's why I didn't see him coming, or perhaps I've become too complacent here in Bree. I don't know.
The bastard came from behind, like the coward he was, with a blade to my back. He must have seen me count my coins. They say he tried to steal my boots as well if it wasn't for Dristin, also a member of the Dawn and a friend, that came to my rescue... as cripple as he was then with his cane. I didn't expect bastard to stab at me right there in the middle of town, but he did. I might have been a bit plastered as well, although, that's got absolutely nothing to do with what happened. All I'm saying is that, that mangy crow mangler will get his due. Of that I promise. I will not let this lie. The Watch is offering a reward for the bastards as well, which just makes revenge all that more sweeter. Won't mind running my blade up his soft and guts.
I couldn't believe my ears when Corrben told Dristin back in the Jail house that he should take me to Pip's room, not after all the insults and the threats. Somehow the fucker found out about the Bloody Dawn's involvement in rescuing his little sister from the filthy talons of the bandits, and perhaps that has made him give his blessing for me to see Pip. Don't make me laugh, as if I needed it. But he's a good man, I guess. He does his job and I respect the way he handles his charges, however, if he thinks he's going to snatch the bounty out of my hands, he's got something coming. All is fair in love and war, I've heard.
But as I lay here in this soft bed, under the constant company of Pip and her far too pleasurable care, fussing and fretting, I won't say I'm sorry about this whole ordeal. Not at the least. I'm grateful for the excuse to just lay down and rest at her place. Won't say to catch my breath, but something like that, yeah. I'm sure Dristin has informed the Dawn and the rest of my current injuries and why I'm not dropping by.
