Bree

The rain fell hard on Grizbub's cloak. If it rains in Bree, it pours. Was at least better than snow, Grizbub thought to himself. The shrouded figure walked up the scholar's stairs, just before the falling of the evening. On the higher level he was met by a woman who kept a watchful eye over her children playing in a puddle in front of their door. Like the good housewife that she was, the little missy hushed her children inside quickly before she closed the door herself. Not that Grizbub wasn't used to it by now.

(Many thanks to Priya for the idea and letting me use it, and to all the role-players whose characters are a part of Alex's life and influenced it.)

After a particularly messy scene involving an ambush by a trio of bandits, Aureliyn and Alex stand in front of a small stream and next to a small pile of ashes.

Dear Marlyn

​Whilst you and I have never been acquainted in person, Saeldith holds you in the highest esteem. I write to you now to thank you for your letter and the interesting news it contains - it is always good to hear of the lands we have left behind.

Honored Lady Saeldith and Lord Duarion,

I thought I knew what music was. A lively jig at the Green Dragon, a rousing chorus of the Oldfurlong song. Growing up in Buckland, there had always been jolly hobbit tunes for any occasion. That was music, and it was all I believed any hobbit ear could want.

Until now.

Bree was, by all accounts, a moderately sized town. Larger than Combe and Straddle combined, but not a great city. It was still the largest town Morliniel had ever been in and she was perfectly fine considering it a city. She’d spent weeks, off and on, exploring the streets, shops, and getting to know a few of the locals. There were tucked away gardens, and little places to sit away from the main bustle of the thoroughfare. It was easy to get lost between the buildings, even for a girl well versed in tracking her path.