Furley sat at the desk once more, pushing the other papers aside and sighing, a half-empty bottle of wine next to him, and no sign of a glass or tankard. His head hurt, and his eyes were bleary with fatigue, but to make sense of everything that had gone on, he knew he had to write it down. Dipping his feathered quill into the ink pot, he began scrawling.
To any who read this, please find an official account of Company events. Here we will be record-.
No, no... too informal. Thinking carefully, he tried to figure out how he would word it. It had to be an official account, and therefore completely objective. Scribbling it out, he began once more, and endeavoured that he'd make another copy for neatness, though he knew in reality he'd just tear the page out of the binder he'd acquired.
This is the official accounts of the Company of the East Road. This book contains the financial recordings, member count, and Company dealings and reports.
That'll do, he thought, and then turned the page to begin accounting the first record, only pausing on the first page to add his signature to the cover note. But where to begin? Leaning back in his chair, he thought carefully for several minutes, before leaning forwards again to write.
-Recent shipment recovered and intact. Shipments to be collected from Ered Luin, Bree, Thorin's Hall and Imladris, before the venture south in six weeks time. Furley to oversee goods collection.
Sighing, he rubbed his face, but had used his quill hand, and blotched ink straight into his cheek. Grumbling about it, he ignored it and continued to work.
-Rival... how did he word this? Group. Yes, that'll do, failed in attempt to steal shipment. Reports from scouts have linked them with ties to Angmar. It felt ridiculous to write it, but Amathlan had been adamant on what he had seen, and he wouldn't refute it.
-[[Deorla]] and Kildwin to investigate further. A meeting with the opposition to attempt to be set up.
Leaning back again, he thumbed his forehead, trying to make sense himself of what had happened. Everything seemed to have happened to quickly, that even he couldn't make full sense of it.
-Reports from Ioranir that several villages have been massacred in Forochel. Reports that it is the group tied to the attempted stolen shipments. No physical evidence linking it directly. Further investigation will be required. He smiled at that. "Not from you though, lad" he said aloud. "Daphnee would go spare. Get used to this chair, as it's going to fit your arse much better with the time you'll be sat in it from now on".
-Officer meeting. Agreement to take this potential threat seriously. Business and preparations to resume as normal whilst information is gathered. Commander and Sergeant to begin contingency plan to prepare for the worst case scenario. Deorla to oversee a second group to shadow our group and look for threats to us.
Leaning back, he sighed again, feeling sleep take hold of him, and he knew he only had a few more coherent minutes left to finish this entry.
-Trestlebridge supply contract to be revised.
There were a few other plans, but he didn't know whether or not they were best put in an official document. After all... there was reports of an informant from within their ranks, and they weren't sure who, or if there even was one. The Company had expanded so quickly that adjusting was taking time they didn't have. Deciding to finish there, he wrote the final report.
Contractors: 171
Active members: 64
Treasury: 113 gold and 52 silver.
Pinching his nose, and rubbing between his eyes with his thumb and finger, he yawned uncontrollably, and he knew he'd hit his limit for the day. Getting up from his desk, he stretched and began to prepare himself for bed.
"South in six weeks... put it behind us. Leave 'em to their problems" he muttered. "Can't do that, though" he replied to himself. "Why not?" he responded. "You'd lose your contracts, silly" he answered himself back. "But we will find more in the south, and you can finally fulfill your promise to the Wold". "But surely this Company stands for more than just coin". "But does it? What of the others?" "What of them?" "There's too much at stake, either way".
Sighing for the final time that evening, he continued to argue with himself in his mind until his head hit the pillow, and then he was gone to the world. His thoughts began to heat up once more as the familiar crackling came to the fore of his mind, and he lost himself to his slumber.
