Sitting here watching the sun rising over the eastern hills of Bree-land, I can honestly say I feel a strange and welcome sense of relief, though I'm not sure why. Young though I may be, I am learning that life is a cycle of heartbreak and joy, and the darkest nights will always be followed with a new dawn...though, when we're in the midst of the shadows, we never seem to believe that, do we?
Even the weather seems to want to extend a bit of hope and promise, as the bitter cold fled sometime during the night, and much of the snow has melted. I know, spring is still a long way off, but even a hint of sunshine is so welcome at this moment.
It seems ironic and amusing to say, but I think it did me good to avoid the inn last night, and the town in general. Trouble seems to hover over it, like a cloud of biting flies, just waiting for a moment to swoop down and whip the place into a frenzy. I did step briefly into the Pony in the late afternoon, and all was quiet, thankfully. I had the pleasure of being approached by the stout form of Master Belodin, and we enjoyed another charming conversation, though he was full of worrisome news about the Lone Lands. My heart aches for him, so proud in his old age, yet I sense that he feels his own breaking-down in his long years, and he resists it to the last. Bless his soul... I pray no harm comes to him on his adventures. I know, as a dwarf, he'd be glad to die in some glorious, blood-soaked manner... my mind cannot wrap around such ideas. I know he's looking for a Ranger to assist him in his plans, so I'm keeping my eyes open for Sigfread, Luinor, or Watcher (Curulon), though I've not seen the latter two for months.
After parting ways with Belodin, I decided not to linger about town, but to return home for what I hoped would be some quiet time to myself. I was surprised, then, as I approached the gates of Hookworth, to see the guards detaining a tall, elegant, and unfamiliar figure. Having an elf among our order already, I knew he was of the same kind by his height, his magnificent clothing, and his horse, a pale, gossamer creature. After greeting him, he revealed that he was waylaid in his travels by a band of orcs, and his steed had been injured, and he had sought the first village he could find for help. I had Jack lead his horse to the stables, while I walked him to the sanctuary hall. He seemed ill at ease, though he was polite, giving his name as Naegilrond. I sympathized with his discomfort, for he was among strangers, and must have been terribly worried for his animal. We found Inayat, Arenborne, and Eterunan in the sanctuary, and I left the visitor there while I went and tended his horse. Such a lovely, graceful animal! So different from our horses of the Mark, which are all muscle and boldness. I considered whether the wound - a nasty, but shallow gash on his hindquarters - would need stitching, but I believe we can spare him that unpleasantness. I bathed the cut in warm water laced with Kingsfoil, and I think, as long as the horse rests and doesn't strain himself with walking about, he should be fine in about a week. I returned to the hall and relayed my opinion to the visiting elf, and while he didn't look pleased at all to be so detained, he was gracious and thanked us. I believe he'll be staying at the Guest House. I'll plan to visit his lovely steed daily to check on his recovery, and I must also stop by and see our visitor, and make sure he's comfortable and taken care of.
My goodness, this entry is becoming lengthy... nearly done... it's pleasant to write of peaceful things for once!
Like my Conrob.
I had worried through the day, as he'd told me he would stop by in the morning for a visit, and the day passed without a sign of him. I was sitting at home, about to retire and spend a sleepless night worrying, when he knocked at the door. I was so relieved! And then....surprised. So very surprised.
I shan't say more.
Until tomorrow then...
