Entry Nineteen: An Old Friend
Time would tell if one was to ever meet with the daughter of Halbrandth again. But one will not linger longer than he has to. Preparations must be made, in order to save those captured by the Blackwolds. One had decided to eliminate some of their growing force, venturing back to Chetwood where many would gather. On arrival, many small camps would lay, scattered across the wilderness. There would be no need to strike all, but rather imply fear to one’s advantage. Eliminating those on the outskirts and leaving them at a disadvantage.
First, one began with a smaller camp. Drawing his bow and silently eliminating those who would occupy it. A simpleton in training would have been able to do this as the Brigands would appear drunk, too focused on their ale rather than their surroundings. One would retrieve his arrows but one, making sure that his presence was known to whomever may discover the bodies.
Then, to the Northern region amongst the Ruin. The Brigands here seem more organized than the scattered camps. One prefers the challenge, starting with those who guard the entrance. One by one, Brigands would drop as one would keep to the shadow.
Muffled voices could be heard further up the hill. Speaking of a reward and that of a note. Curious, one would investigate further before wiping out the remainder of the camp. As one drew closer, he could hear what was said.
“Twenty Gold for this guy in the hood? A pretty, little price. Perhaps we should bring this to Jagger’s attention?”
After viewing the poster Tarrah brought with her, one felt as though the Brigands would speak of the same. Drawing his sword, one would strike and slay both Brigands before another word could be said. Wiping the blood from his blade, one noticed the poster the Brigands spoke of. Picking it up, would confirm it as one and the same… Yet something new, was written upon it.
“Where the wolves howl and their mother sleeps, where the Brigand hides and the Farmer dies… A Brother will await…”
A Brother? There could only be one that would consider himself a Brother. Fiontann... Has word travelled so far that he would return from the depths of Thorin’s Hall? One knew the answer to the riddle left upon the poster, rolling it up and placing it in his pocket. One would not know, if this was real or a trap. With that, he would scout the location and await his answer…
