In my spare time, which I have little of these days, I find myself staring off into the distance and reminiscing... reminiscing of simpler times years ago, when I used to be a more loyal visitor to Bree and its surroundings.
Times when I had friends and foes aplenty, where a simple offered drink would be the start of some of the most curious friendships which I still hold dear. Though we have all gone our own ways, I still remember them the way they were. Some seemed to be experiencing dwarves for the first time, others were more accustomed to our foolery and drinking habits.
The nights in Bree were unique, sometimes dull other times incredibly exciting. It was not the Pony nor Bree itself, but the collection of individuals — throw in the ever changing roster of Town guards some of whom hadn't even a single hair on their chest yet!
I miss those times — maybe once the work here is done I can visit it again. But will it be the same? Will I even be the same? Ah, but to walk in that country side again. The glowing hills and the warm breeze... My worries can haunt me later, I will leave for Bree as soon as I can. The bagpipes will harass Barliman's poor inn one final time!
