The Prancing Pony is full of unruly people, fugitives from other lands, outcasts from other races, and so on, perhaps worse than the Forsaken Inn. The barkeep is known to have the best ale in the land, and I would have to agree, he does make good ale. I met with a woman by the name of Ellasraen, a beautiful darker skinned woman. She is from Trestlebridge, or so she says. A traveler, of sorts, if I recall correctly. She was pleasant, calm, and somewhat understood my tale of exilement. I don't tell much people about it, but if I do, its to people I believe can trust, and I believe I can trust her. I met another exile, Rahvic, the exile of Harad. Strange man, but, a good one. He has a wooden leg for his left, or perhaps right, instead of flesh and bone. Interesting, not much, rather, only he has a wooden leg for one of his legs. I would like to think he and I are friends already, but I can't be sure, we only did meet some days ago. It would appear that I had arrived in Bree just in time for a market event, there weren't much interesting stalls there. I simply returned to the Prancing Pony and got another drink, but quickly went to sleep, didn't feel good. I regret coming here, but then again, some folk are nice, some folk aren't. That Wulfthrud lad is interesting, pity, he doesn't have a bounty, but if anyone attempts to kill him, they'll be pardoned. If only he had a bounty, then I would kill em, for coin, he is a criminal after all. Not much to really think about lately, other than eying some pretty lasses. There is the Tricx fellow, a good, kind, but young and naive, at least from the impression I get. Not much folk here worth my attention, perhaps. Just need to get a job and a home, and somehow live out here.
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