Dear Journal,
I write this entry on several pages of parchment and a half used pencil I managed to barter off of the barkeep here in the Forsaken Inn. He's a rather grim fellow, but so are most in this rather dire establishment. You would think a folk so serious and stern would've had the common sense to patch up the gaping hole in the roof! Ah, but it's no matter. I suppose they'll warm up to me and my clever wit in no time at all.
Nevertheless, it's been a rather desperate week or so since I was so cruelly treated by that Bree Watchwoman named "Jessicya." To think I sold her that Eastern Elvish Tea for such a low a price too?! Grant it, the tea was fake but it was the thought that counts does it not? Well, it seems she somehow caught on that the tea was a not as it seemed. I may have taken some rather generic tea that I purchased second hand off of someone and cut it with some "zest" of dried oak leaves, but that's what made my brand so unique! No one had had such a brew before and if I happened to call it "Eastern Elvish" or "Easternling" blend then who was to know? I sell ideas more than simple goods! But I digress.
That horrid woman and her goons accosted me in The Pony of all places and attempted to arrest me without proof! She claimed that there was testimony that was able to prove that my tea was false - likely that nosey elf Cesistya no doubt! I tried to talk sense into that Watchwoman but she was insistent on slapping those shackles on me in front of every good person in that establishment! I had no choice but to flee! I ran and tried to get to my oxen so that I could ready them quickly to leave town, but that dastardly witch of a Watchwoman began firing arrows at me! The first arrow bit into my trouser's pant leg and cut me, but the second met its mark and sunk deep into my calf.
It felt as if I had been stabbed with a hot poker in the leg and I fell to the ground outside of the Inn. What sort of Watcher fires an arrow at a man for selling tea?! That Mayor has hired some thuggish fellows: I swear. The fact I laid there bleeding was of little concern to that horrid woman though, she slapped those shackles on my wrists and gagged me! The nerve! What on earth could I have said or done to have escaped at that time? Fortunately, Miss Cesistya came to my aid: she may be a nosey elf that pokes her nose where it doesn't belong, but I am blessed to have had her tend to my wounds. I'm afraid if it wasn't for her I may have lost my leg that day.
Of course, the Watcher couldn't let me have any bit of respite despite my recently dressed wounds. She hoisted me to my feet and forced me to walk the whole way to the jail! I swear she must be half-orc with as cruel as she was to have no regard for a wounded man.
I spend a few days in that jail cell... oddly enough I had a visitor stop by to pass me a key! That lovely young woman was a clever girl. She lied skillfully to the guards about being my niece to be able to visit in fact! I must say, I will have to find out who she was and thank her dearly for the gift. Sadly, I was unable to use it in time as that Jessicya woman came by shortly after to offer me a choice of either some form of indentured servitude to pay off my "debt to society" or I was to be cast out into the Lone Lands. I tired talking sense to her but eventually she became so angry that she settled on driving me out of town and of Breeland!
She shackled me and led me to to the border of the Lone lands on foot. The pain in my leg made this journey almost unbearable mind you. Of course this did not concern that Watchwoman! We arrived at the border some time after sundown. Once there she unshackled me and told me to walk down the road until I arrived at the Forsaken Inn. I'd wager she assumed this would've been a death sentence, but Ol' Hurbert is more resilient than that! Oh yes! I managed to make it to the inn where I now sit, drinking a terrible mug of ale and write!
Goodness, I'm almost out of parchment. I'll have to leave it here for now!
-Hurb
