I have not written upon these pages in what seems an age. Writing is an escape route. A way in which thoughts and events can be contemplated, solely by the reader. In my current state, I find this my most viable escape route.
Daigan Hanteer. A gondorian git who does not have my trust, nor my respect. He is a foul, insolent twerp and needs to learn how to throw a punch. As well as fighting fairly. Alas, he has what he wants and all is well.
Shorey Hanteer. His brother, and just as much of a git. Though can throw a better punch. His aim needs improving, and I owe him for the many wounds I now carry. His nose is broken, and I am content.
Abrianna. The closest I have. She is my friend, and I care for her deeply. I told her I was leaving, and she told me to go. But I miss her. Who was I kidding? I dont -have- friends.
Cirdu. The husband of my neice. He is a good man and I respect him.
Gwenbur. Gwen. My neice who I have given my word to stay away from. Her father, Erolamir forced this out of me. I miss the pair of them. But again. I am not a family man, as much as I try.
The hobbitess. I know not her name, but she woke me, from my unconscious state and has increased my willingness to go on. She has convinced me to try again, after all that has happened. I should be a dead man. She has saved me.
Saracyn Bravewind. Sent by the halfling to help me. Kind and selfless as she stitched me up. Preventing what seemed an inevitable end. I hope our next meeting, if at all, will be on better circumstances.
I intend to leave now. I shall head home and become invisible to all those who know me. Time to get out and run. I shall leave as soon as is possible. But I wish to sort a few things out first. I promised her I'd leave Hanteer, so I shall, even as much as I am compelled to hit him again, and again, and again. Perhaps I shall see the halfling again or maybe Lady Bravewind. For all that has occoured. I must leave. That much is certain.
