It has been some time since I set quill to this old journal. Whether out of laziness or just not wanting to read my own thoughts, I can't tell. I have time now, laying in bed so here it goes.
I miss the Watch, everyday I wonder what is going on in Bree though my duty lays in Trestlebridge now. To keep it standing and to help keep the invading orc at bay will preserve my home. Another arrow from those black blooded bastards has put me out of action for awhile. A rather embarrassing wound, directly in my left buttock but it was worth it to keep Nettie from being hurt. The girl has fire and some skill but she is raw and even a man struggles to fight orcs. We sent her running for aid, which came in time to save myself and Don, but we lost four guards to the skirmish. Four men with families in town and four widows and mothers I had to face.
Men from town are missing, we still have not located them and we were nearly killed. If it had not been for the unexpected help from the hooded men of the hills, we would have been finished. Rangers, they call themselves, tall and grim. Queer wanderers of the wilds but they were of great assistance. We did not ask their names and they gave none, helping us back to the span before melting into the woods.
Orc arrows are notoriously filthy and that night I ran a fever. The healer Mellah was tending others at their homes so it was Crow who aided me. If I had not been so racked with pain and fever, I would have refused his southron medicine. And the fact I had to be in such an embarrassing predicament in front of poor Nettie.
I am recovering now though I cannot trust my body in combat for another fortnight. Once I can sit down without too much discomfort, I plan on riding to the farm and check on things. And bring back those damn cabbages.
