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18 Thrimidge. Chetwood, Bree-land.

in


Penned in precise and evenly lined sentences, a blank page near the middle of a slightly scuffed, top-grain leather journal is newly inscribed. If one were to flip past the filled pages to the very beginning, one would find the first page titled with: Bernie Tweed, Bree-land followed by a series of odd symbols.

 

18 Thrimidge

​Chetwood, Bree-land

≡ Feels right odd to wake in the morn with naught to do but follow a pretty elfin lady around the countryside. Not sure I care for such a life what has nothing to get up early for. Idle hands are evil's workshop, or somesuch. Least that's what I recall ma telling me when I'd try to sleep in.

Today were not quite so good a day, in truth. Oh I got to keep company with Mrs Indoril for her 'mission' which is quite nice, and Oakley had a sad feeling of parting when we left his spot so I'll have to come round again to visit one day.

No, two things happened this day: firstly, I got a rash from some critters in the swamp. Fat larvae, bleached as bones, seemed to think yours truly tasted pretty good and they made a nest of my side. Mrs Indoril took her spear and cut the varmints out of there, then cleaned and patched it all up again. Says I should see a real healer though, when we get to town, to give me a looking-over. But that's the lesser of the downers this day.

You'll notice I write Mrs Indoril now instead of Miss.

Aye, seems my lady friend has a man - or elfin lord rather, and surely he's a lord for she wouldn't settle for what's common, from what I'd seen of her - back home. Now I've been called many a thing in my life but never a homewrecker; I can respect a family man and hope to be one myself eventually. So that's all there is for that.

I'll see to escorting the lady to wherever she need go for her 'mission' and then we'll part, me for my bees and beer and empty house, and she to her lordly love and her golden trees to spend another thousand or so years playing her harp and eating her elfin crackers with her perfect milky hands.

Wish I'd packed a bottle of brew. Thanks be that the Pony will be nearby soon.