It has been some time now since the final arrangements were made and I settled here in Bree-land, in a rural and lately established village. Now, a writing-desk having been delivered during my latest absence, I find myself with time....and inclination...to finally set down some of my impressions of the place and the people here. Nay, more than inclination, it strikes me that I need to in some way. Oft is it that writing brings clarity that thought alone cannot provide....
I first learned of this place, Millshaw, soon after coming to Bree-town, in conversation with one of its inhabitants - a burly, rough man by name of Egfor. In hunting down some remnants of the Chetwood brigands, I came to the outskirts of Millshaw by chance, and happened to discover a cottage recently vacated. The sellsword work I have been seeking continues to prove surprisingly profitable, and it took me little time to make the necessary financial and notarial arrangements to, finally, buy a residence of my own. The broker in Bree-town was surprisingly unconcerned with my lack of references or documentation...perhaps, being a small and recently settled community, such details are of little concern.
The house I have settled in is small, even mean, but it will do well for me at present - it is still yet a greater luxury than I have been recently accustomed to, and at long last offers me a place of refuge, solitude and study. Though I am oft away for days on end, I find that I sleep better whenever I return - the soft dance of the water outside sweetly lulls my concerns and pains away. I have taken to spending much time sitting by the waterfall, simply watching the plumes of gentle foam wash ever away. I could even spend yet more time there....if I allowed it.
I have thus far met few of my neighbours. The aforementioned Egfor is one. He is a strange, gregarious man of quick mood and coarse tongue. Yet I find him likeable, though we are far removed. There is an air of friendliness about him, of comradeship, and surprising gentleness - I dare say he would be fierce indeed if roused, and that he could be roused easily, but he is attentive and kind by nature....if overly uncouth. He is Rohirric of origin, and hath come to Bree after his own homestead there was razed - perhaps it is this commonality that inspires friendship from me. But I do not think it is so, for he is likewise regarded by many others in Bree, from what I have seen. It is perhaps simply his nature to like and be liked.
I have also met by chance Egfor’s husband, a local by name of Dem. It is curious that, while Egfor and I share some passing similarities in our lives, it is Dem who I am keenly interested in, perhaps even inspired by. He was, alas, suspicious of me at our first meeting, though there is no harm in that - only curiosity now on my part to know what enemies he has made, to be so guarded. His bearing is far nobler, far wiser than that of many of the Bree-folk, and I suspect him indeed to be widely traveled. Yet his primary goal is to provide charity and aid to those who need it - it is a noble mission, and one I am oddly moved by. It is yet early and I dare not presume much of our relationship, but if I am able to aid him in some way, I would be willing.
I have also been fortunate enough to enter into correspondence, having received a most gracious note and gift (the latter of which I enjoy as I write) from a local by name of Thaelwyn. The letter was brief, yet exceedingly courteous and welcoming, and I fear that my own inexperience at such correspondence will see me found wanting. Nonetheless, I employed what little art of letter-scribing I have learnt, and will deliver my response, poorly written though it may be, come the morn. I can but hope that, with time and patience from my neighbours, I will better my own desperately poor letter-writing, through practice, to some base level of common courtesy and good style.
The only other inhabitant of Millshaw I have thus far met is the niece of Egfor, a younger woman by name of Kirstina. She is.....
What should I write about Kirstina?
I do not think we are friends. In truth, I do not think she likes me overly much, though I take solace in that this seems not to be a personal slight against me....she is sullen, removed, wholly unwilling to be polite or to accept kindness.
And yet, I care about her. She is not similar in temperament to me - yet I have some inkling of from where her pain springs, why she is so overly cold and distant. I pity her, but not as a parent pities a child; rather because I wish she had not suffered as she has. I would not wish that on anyone of my acquaintance.
This is why I am here, in Bree, for now - to defend, in whatever small way I can, the lives of defenceless folk, to prevent what suffering I may. And yet, I am too late for her, as for countless others - through no fault of mine own beyond the date of my birth, but late nonetheless.
[There is a break in the handwriting at this point, as if the author had left his desk for at least a little time and changed nib. When it picks up again, the hand is noticeably more hurried, as if the author wrote with spontaneity and little care]
As I wrote before, I hope it be not too presumptuous to say Dem and Egfor be my friends, or at least friendly. If they ask aid of me then I will grant it, and likewise if I need aid of them.
Kirstina will not ask my aid, and I would never expect her to aid me in any way. Yet I will, I must offer her my friendship. The oaths I have sworn bind me to protect and help those who need it. For most folk, they need little more than a blade both strong and quick. It is too late for that for Kirstina, and yet if I can help her, I will, even if it be simply by offering her friendship without condition. If she refuse it, then so be it, I can do nothing further.
But I think she needs help, she needs friendship and someone to....to listen when she would speak, and to offer consolation when she is silent. Her family mean well by her and care for her, of that I have no doubt, but they cannot be other than family to her. They have suffered the selfsame tragedy that she has, and so she may well never have had anyone who will bear her pains with an unaffected, sympathetic ear. It is a difficult burden to bear. I remember that well.
If I can help her, I will. I can but pray that the note I have written to her will be received in the spirit in which it was intended - alas for my lack of letter writing practice!, though in truth, I suspect I could have been in correspondence for years and still have found this task difficult. Be it so, it is done, and I can do little more.
[The penmanship is noticeably more refined for the remainder of the entry]
As for the other inhabitants of the village, I know them not as of yet. I have heard that there is a seamstress soon to open a practice in town, and when I have recovered some coin would gladly seek her service - too long have I been poorly clad. I am also eager to meet my neighbour, a Dwarvish merchant of some description - I have seen some hint of his fine wares and once spotted him passing upon the street through my window, but no more than that of yet. Strangely, of all that passes in Dale, it is the many Dwarves I find I miss most, for they are a good and honourable folk, and I would be glad to make acquaintance with such people here.
I have also heard tell that there is a town nearby by the name of Knotwood, with a library of some import. I am somewhat unconvinced, for these lands are sorely lacking in scholarship and learning, yet I am nonetheless curious to visit it, and judge for myself of what quality it be. This then is a task for when I find a little rest, perhaps should the weather turn foul once more in the coming weeks and impede the eastern ways….
I have written long enough, the dawnlight cracks the sky and I am sorely in need of rest. Sleep, perhaps, will bring settledness to my thought.
