*The leather bound bible is battered and worn, suffering from abuse over the course of perhaps months, the Author's untidy scrawl would indicate that this had once belonged to a farmer of Breeland or perhaps even a brigand. But what the journal contains is stories and tales that no typical Bree Lander would have experienced, even if he had. He certainly wouldn't have lived to tell the tale.*
Now follows the tale of Arostir, Ranger of the North... His first journal entry.
A most curious Encounter
I had followed the lonely road of the Greenfields often, tracking and stalking dark things under the cover of night. I would Often travel as far North as Nenuial in the land the Bree folk would call Evendim to sit upon the shores and reflect... A beautiful land it is too, the lake of Twilight glistens like a silver gem in the North... Though my tales there I shall save for a rainier day when I have more time to sit down and write my thoughts...
It is comfortable here in the Prancing Pony, the food is warm and the beer is surprisingly good. The Innkeeper seems to be unsure of my look, though he is friendly enough to let me a room for the night, I was lucky to have the coin, for my 'business' is not always monetarily rewarding.
In fact, I have a rather curious lass to thank for... I fear I would be sleeping under the Old Greenway Fort for yet another night if it wasn't for her... And today I shall dedicate this Journal entry to her, for she was a rather curious Hobbit and I feel it would be a good read in more darker times when I may need a reminder for what I'm fighting for...
Long was my journey from my battered and now desolate encampment up in the North Downs, I was weary with fatigue and though I traveled light, my boots were worn and traveling was rough.
It was nigh on evening when I saw her, the sun was gloaming behind a dark overcast in the sky...A short little figure stood atop the bank near Saeradan's Cabin, not much further than a good few miles from the town of Bree where I was heading to. She wore a feathered cap and her hair on her freckled face was dirty blonde, I confess it was rather queer to see Hobbits out of the Shire let alone to see them traveling the Greenway on any errand. Though there was something queer about this Hobbit too, but I was lucky enough to find her... For I was tired and had traveled much too far for one day's worth a trek.
What was queerer still was the scarf of fur she wore, it looked ceremonial to some degree, I could tell it was of Dwarvish make of sorts... In fact I almost mistook her for a Dwarf just by how she wore those shoulder guards. It was not until I saw her face did I realize she was in fact no bearded Dwarf at all.
At first she hid from me, unsure of me. I'd expect no less from her kind as Hobbits are rather unsure and shy of the 'Big Folk' as they tend to refer us to, and them being small and light on their feet, they can hide rather well. I reassured her that I was friendly, though I almost had a knife stuck in my leg during the panic.
She apologized for the commotion and explained that she had been chased by a gang of ruffians from Bree, she looked worried, though oddly yet was the way her Dwarvish shoulder guards seemed to make her appear rather like a bird with too much feathers for its body... Though I'm sure the Hobbit would despise being called a bird. She seemed to take pride in her fur scarf... A curious bunch those Hobbits are indeed.
We made our way back to Bree and to the Prancing Pony where I write this now. There were three rough looking squint eyed swarthy fellows mooching about the stables when we arrived, the one, a big bloke possibly bigger than I even and looking twice as grim in the face looked more like an Orc than a Man. Him and his mates were clearly upset about being kicked out of the Inn and they seemed to cause rather a stir with the Bree Watch.
As we got into the hazy smoke filled common room of the Inn, the Hobbit formally introduced herself as Derosyn. A rather strange name for a Hobbit I figured, but nonetheless, I thanked her for bringing me safely to Bree and wondered a bit on why she was in Bree herself...
It turned out that Hobbits can talk about something forever if they're passionate enough about it. She told me how there's in fact a Hobbit settlement in the village of Staddle and she lives there... We were getting a number of suspicious looks from the fellow patrons and the innkeeper was keeping a close eye on me indeed. Several people situated nearer to the door were gossiping about dealings and happenings in this land... Which intrigued me greatly.
It turned out that several Ranger fellows were reported to have come this way recently, my luck had just took a turn for the better, keeping a keen ear on the patrons talking, although Derosyn looked a little irritated that I was ignoring her great speech on the business of Staddle Farms and Hobbit style hedgelaying... Though I heard what I needed to hear. Several of my Kin may be near by and my days of wandering the vast roads of the North alone may very well be at an end. Finally I may be able to dedicate my skills to a greater purpose...
May I sleep well tonight in a warm bed. For I shall set out on the road again tomorrow in search of my Kin.
