Sunset in 'Ust Gurruth'

Well ain't this lovely. First that trip westwards lookin' for Thurbrand, fallin' in the lake and endin' up stayin' in a camp full o' Breelendings and a bossy holbytla 'cause Albert wouldn't let me travel while I still had a cold... and now this. I was just gettin' used to that nasty inn - beer was piss, but at least the beds in the cellar were outta the wind - and now we go traipsin' EAST! And I'm stuck sleepin' in some soggy ol' bunkbeds with a bunch of raggedy strangers... O'course the group left without tellin' me in person, just leavin' a message with that damn creepy bartender, so I've got ter makes my own way east along that road full o' damn spiders and spotted cats... Albert would not be best pleased if I told 'im I'm going travellin' by meself again. But he worries far too much. Silly wealas. Still, it were a damn shame to be alone on the road again. So off east I shoots, 'cause Gyth's been havin' bad dreams, and damned if it ain't some windy, rainswept ruin of a hall that we're supposed to be stayin' in while Gyth chases after who-knows-what. Worried about her, poor lass. Think she might be touched in the head. Or maybe there's worser things out there than even my older gammer used'ter speak of. 'Course Bawde's watchin' her like a hawk, bah. Though he ain't doin' too good a job of it - when I got to this Ust Gurruth place there weren't nobody I knew about, so I waited fer a while... saw 'er come back with a strange-lookin' group o' folk. She were talkin' about walkin' trees and ghosts and blood and suchlike. But then them folk were strange. One, I swears it, must've been a wicce - she'd made a bear into a thrall! Was just sittin' by 'er and actin' like a faithful huntin' dog... strange, strange, evil things... don't know what she might've done to Gyth... And there were another lass who said she were part of an Eored! Pshaw. Ain't no Eoreds outside o' the Mark, an' ain't no women in Eoreds, neither. I've heard the King's losing his grip but even he ain't fool enough to send one-hundred-and-twenty riders out o' the lands just to have a little look around... Whoever's leadin' this thing - if the lass weren't lyin' - ain't no real Aetheling, that's fer sure. 'Spose once yer've left the Mark any farmer can pretend ter be a foreign lord if he acts bossy enough and puts some shiny bits on 'is bridle. Faugh. That lass were a haughty one, but I liked 'er, even if 'er so-called Aetheling's a liar. She talked back to Bawde. Good on 'er. A good warrior 'e may be, but 'e's still a pain in the neck. Pity Thurbrand ain't nowhere ter be found, be nice to 'ave another man around wi' us, seeing as how we've lost Wine and his sister... and that dreadful old man wi' the long beard, oh I'm glad 'e's gone, even though 'e were useful in a scrap. Be nice to see Albert again but it's hard when he don't speak the language and everyone's so rude to him. Don't s'pose I'll be seein' that one again. Hrmm. Wonder where that lass got fittin' armour from - when Thurbrand lent me 'is leathers they were fallin' off me like bedsheets. Oh, and thinkin' o' bedsheets, I'd better get ter sleep now afore the sun starts comin' up... (This does not represent an actual written diary - just her thoughts at the end of the day.)