Belodin

*A letter addressed to "Master Belodin Bronzeboots" is left at the Prancing Pony inn, and a copy sent by courier to Thorin's Hall, Ered-Luin*

"Dearest Belodin,

Yesterday was blessedly peaceful and quiet, free of trouble and tragedy. If only more days could be so. 

The day of reckoning had finally come. The journey had been long. The blood of Westernesse had spilt the soil and sons were lost. 

The lust for vengeance wrung Thorontir's heart as he led the force he had assembled. A vengeance forged in the blood of his kinsfolk and friends. He wore a second rayed star on his chest, unlike his own not burdened with the years of grime, but with the blood of a young man that lingered in his mind though it had long since been washed away.

I find that, in the absence of madness, my mind has a chance to quiet itself, and return to simply thinking about things. It's been some time since I could simply sit and think, without having to worry about folk around me screaming bloody murder or having knives thrown at me, or any other number of chaotic occurrences that seem to have overtaken Bree-town recently. 

Yesterday was a blessedly quiet day, at least for the most part. I don't plan on a lengthy recording here today, but we shall see. My thoughts of late seem to be endless and I have trouble reigning them in once I put the quill to the parchment. 

It's a good thing that Jack awoke me before dawn this morning, though I was irritated at first with his incessant stomping and snorting outside the door. The fair weather has him restless and wanting to move about, and though I snapped at him to take his gargantuan black and white hide away from the house, I have to feel rather grateful now, as I have much to record here before I start my day's work. 

Oh, where to begin? I think I must've encountered half of Bree last night, in the space of just a few hours.