The Watchman #1

   I arrived in Bree-Land three days ago. There is an inn at the top of a hill in the bastion of this land, Bree. I have been staying there, yet despite my original assumption that little would interest me here, there is a young man in the garbs of a watcher. For three days I have observed him from afar. 
   Today I gave him the stone. I feel that he is the one in this land that is meant to have it. The boy claimed that the stone was but a stone. He must travel to the spire in the home of the dead if he desires the charm to be anything more than a decoration for his neck. The moon will give it what he desires. He seemed perturbed to hear my voice within his mind as my lips remained still while I told him how to bring the charm to its real power. I must remember that these are not my times, these are their times and things are different now. 
   I believe I will have to observe him from afar, I am unsure if this boy will understand my riddle well enough to solve it. If he does solve the riddle, he may very well remain distant. I do not blame him, the home of the dead rests not far from his home, but there are hills that block the view and keep the dead at bay in the great rolling fog. All he needs is a little motivation.