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.
25 Thrimidge
Home, Bree-land
√ Caught up with outstanding orders today that’d piled up while I were gone. Good bit of coin coming in once it’s been paid up, so thinking I’ll spend some on finding a mason to brick up that broken window and then find some artisty type to paint a mural. Maybe a sign: Bernie’s Bees, with my good-looking mug aside it.
→ Yet to check out the well for Miss Kitowyn’s rubbish. Too caught up in paperwork today. Maybe tomorrow.
• No word yet from Sanders. A ride out to his place seems unavoidable. Hate to do this, not something I ever wanted to resort to, for hurting folks is not ever pleasant. But what’s owed is owed, and that’s all there is for it.
≡ Don’t know what’s been giving me such luck as what I’ve had of late, what with mighty comely ladies just popping up on my porch left and right. No matter that my yard’s full of bee hives or that the village I live aside were a good pace out from the big town, none of that deters em whatsoever. Something is drawing these pretty gals to Bernie’s doorstep even at the dead of night and whatever it is, I’ll not question but keep encouraging!
Were sound asleep in my bed in naught but my polka dotted skivvies, when some loud banging on my door startled my wits and I hit the floor full force. Pulled myself up using the nightstand for balance and fumbled my way to the door, which I opened up to see the bustiest blonde I ever laid eyes on standing there saying my name. Well I’ll be. Sure weren’t the vision Mrs Indoril were under the moonlight, but that were the next best surprise to wake to for sure!
Said she were there to check in on me and that bog-wound, and settle up on a bill for some bandages and goop that the elfin lady picked up for yours truly when we past through town. Well as you know, my constitution’s solid as oak and some wee critter bite weren’t hurting me at all, so I told her I were fine and headed for my bed again. But she were having none of it and turned real pushy, insisting on coming in my house and patching me up again. Fine, fine. Kicked the pine tree in my doorway aside and told her to pinch her nose.
Now keep in mind I’m still only standing round in my drawers and striped socks, cause bedclothes are hot and itchy. Lot of visitors might be taken aback seeing more of me than were considered decent without dinner and drinks first, but again this blondie thought nothing at all of it and got down to her business of fussing over that old bog-wound what worries everyone so. Never even said her name to me til I had to ask her for it, though she did ask if I were the one chucking rocks at ladies from up above the Pony, which of course I were most certainly not.
Bryndis she said she were called, but the way she spoke and the way she looked weren’t from round here and I told her as much. Said she came up from some village called Rowing on account of the war. Bah, that’s all I hear: War. War. War. No one can just be happy in their homes cause some mad king decides he likes his neighbour's yard better than his. And then she burnt the dickens out of my side with some brownish goop from a bottle. My money’s on troll piss.
She hoodwinked me into getting some stitches on my bog-wound, pinning me down and messing things all up with her needle and thread. Looking at it now, them seams are crooked and tied wrongly - that knot’s no good, no good at all. A fisherwoman she ain’t and probably a healer neither. Dirty deed done, picked up her bags and wanted to charge me a king’s ransom for this mess - a whole gold piece! A gold piece for violating me in ways I didn’t even enjoy. This is criminal mischief to the fullest degree.
But I’m taking her out for an ale in a few days. Cause Bernie ain’t waiting round for a certain elfin gal to realize how badly she messed up. Nope.
