Entry 10
I left the lumber mill around midnight. Try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to spend the night there, not while knowing that the orcs who’d slain Mr. Frumgar and Ms. Dunlida were getting farther away with every passing second.
The tracks led southwards, along the Great River. I followed along at a rapid pace. By dawn I’d made it to the crossing of the Silverlode, though by the time I’d reached the other side I’d lost the trail. Perhaps they’d arrived by some sort of boat, since the tracks disappeared into the rushing current, and could not be found along the southern shore. Try as I might, I’d lost them.
Resigning myself to this fate, not all hope was lost. I still knew their heading, and surely their passing hadn’t gone unnoticed entirely. Farther south the road led to the settlement of Harwick, which I only knew from Dunlida’s mention of it.
Entry 11
After taking a short rest, and changing the bandages on my wound, I pressed onward. The landscape was flat and barren aside from the rolling of the hills and the occasional clump of weeds and bushes. A light rain began to fall soon thereafter, and though it lowered my spirits it failed to halter my step.
I laid my eyes upon the walls of Harwick before nightfall, and to avoid another accosting from the town watch I snuck through with a party of revelers returning from their work in the fields. Finally, I could rest and seek some answers, though before any of that I was overcome with thirst. It is only then that I’d realized I’d neither eaten or drunk since nearly this time yesterday. Thankfully, however, the Rohirrim are no strangers to hospitality.
I entered the tavern, though it could only be traversed by a narrow alley along the wall, as the place was otherwise filled with the ruckus of drunken patrons. When finally I’d caught the attention of the barkeep he gave me a curious look with his response. At the time I’d thought it was my accent which had caught him off-guard, though in hindsight I must have looked a wreck.
The fellow was kind enough, though. Set me up with a tankard and a plate of what I believe to have been stewed lamb. I can hardly recall the taste, since it’s life on my dish was short-lived.
Entry 12
The next morning I set about town, asking if anyone had caught wind of the passing of orc raiders carting along a bounty of lumber and fish. Most of them must have thought me naïve, as they’d known much activity by all tribes of that forsaken kindred as of late. A single droplet is easily missed when contrasted with the ocean of sorrow and despair these people have suffered.
One of the folks at the inn mentioned that some company of orcs and goblins were rumored to be gathering for an attack on the settlement of Floodwend, just south of here. I’ll depart at first light tomorrow, and see if my quarry is among them.
