Found:
A new direction!
Well, yestereve was interesting in several ways!
I spent it in the Prancing Pony for something to do. I can't say that I was expecting to meet that pretty little Gondorian again and I certainly wasn't looking for him. But nor can I say that I regret having a second encounter.
Before I amuse myself with that recollection however, I should make note of that Dorvus character. Doofus? Durfus? Something to that effect anyway. He was... a little odd. It is strange to be asked what it is that I do and not be met with some manner of outrage. I'm so used to having to point out the obvious to the moralistic virtue hounds that being told my line of work was "interesting" made me instantly wary. The man even spoke of offering jobs to me at some point. No good ever comes from someone hiring the services of treasure hunter! They way he eyed up my weaponry was also a little suspect. Most men look at my body in the way that he looked at my blades. And then there was the giggle.... creepy. Very creepy.
I found myself rather bored for a while after that. The tavern was largely empty, so I took my drink outside and enjoyed the sun for a while. That was where I met my first truly interesting encounter for the evening. A pretty enough man, I suppose, but a little young for my tastes. I don't recall if he told me his name. It's not really all that important anyway. What is important is that he knew things. Useful things. Things about the locations of ruins that I've yet to stalk and tales of their inherent danger. Just my sort of jaunt, I'd say! I promised him a present taken from one of the places mentioned should I make it back alive.
As I was leaving the room in which I'd been speaking to Handy Exposition Guy, who should be lurking behind the door but my darling baby bird! Sober this time. He seemed oddly put out over the notion that I might have been doing more than talking, and less than pleased with what he had overheard. His own fault for listening in!
I'm guessing he enjoyed our previous encounter even if he remembered little of it because he was quick to seek a repeat. Odd that he expressed a desire for me to still be there in the morning, though. He also seemed to want to know what makes me "tick." A little concerning. Why would a quick fling need to know anything about me beyond which name to call out in the throes of passion?
Regardless, it led to an interesting wager. If he could impress me more now that he was sober than he had when drunk, I'd stay for breakfast and answer any question he posed to me. Of course, one might accuse me of being biased in my judgments there for I truly do despise talking of personal matters. Maybe he would just have questioned me regarding proper pick swinging techniques? I guess I'll never find out now for he failed the challenge, poor thing. Now, I'd not go so far as to say that this encounter was a disappointment - not by any stretch of the imagination could that be so - but the terms of the agreement were quite specific. It was good, it was certainly good, but he just failed to give me the same sort of breathless rush, never mind something better.
So, no questions. No staying for breakfast.
Given that we'd ended up coming back to my camp, that did make the latter a little more difficult. Although not impossible! In the hour before dawn, when the sky was just light enough for me to see properly, I very very carefully took down the tent, packed my things and moved them ten feet to the west. I would have given my right kidney to see his face when he realised that the story I'd told him earlier that night was completely true! Unfortunately, I was really rather hungry and needed to go find something to eat, so I left him there, asleep beneath a tree.
I wonder if he put my bedroll back in my tent before he left?
