The Journey: A Fellow Dwarf in Bree



I went to the Prancing Pony after my stroll through the stone quarter. It was certainly refreshing to see another Dwarf here, or at least another one. He was chatting with an Elf by the hearth, I paid for my mug of ale then bid them hello, for I heard betrayal and Erebor, which my mind quickly thought of the pointy-eared woodland sprites, that didn't aid us during our time of need. Kildwin was he named, but I could call him friend now, for we spoke like one. We had spoke of how the sprites couldn't even take care of their foul forest, for it is consumed with sorrow and darkness as of these days; or perhaps death itself. It is a shame that the roads and Mirkwood have darkened as of late, it'll make the travel to Erebor harder then I had originally thought. But I am glad that we have our caravan stocked with deadly weapons of Dwarf-make! for none can survive a slash in the gut by a Dwarven-axe. But the morale of the caravan seems to be low, for whatever reason to me is unknown, but I believe it might be that we still are in Bree-town, however I have the solution to that. We will depart soon.