Ever since I was a wee lad I've done my best to sift through all the books and dusty tomes I came upon anywhere in the Mark but never did I think of writing a simple diary, such that I've now opened and staring at its blank first page. It is because of... well, loneliness, or mayhap a need to document my travels and dare I say, adventures, in these far-away lands, that I now grasp the quill.
Many moons ago I started this journey from my beloved Snowbourn, me and dear Sigefaest. We didn't hurry our first steps as we rode slowly upon the green fields of home, wondering, albeit fleetingly, if indeed we were embarking on a foolish quest and should instead remain where we belong. Nay, onwards we went until Helm's Deep we saw strong and proud far in the south, the Hornburg standing there as impenetrable like the very rock it was built upon. A sight which had never failed to impress me and to make my heart soar with pride. Yet further through Westfold we sallied forth, til upon reaching the Gap we tarried once more.
"This is it, my old friend." I said to Sigefaest and stroked his neck. "Dunland and beyond is ahead of us now and fair Rohan we shall leave behind our backs if we still so wish. What say you? Do we continue on to see parts of this world we only know from tales, or do we turn back like cowards and keep to our simple lives as ever before?" It still makes me smile as I recall the poor lad turning his head and looking at me with wide eyes before blowing and snorting in excitement as if to say "have you gone mad, old boy?" I needed not more encouragement as my thoughts already were as my trusted ride's. So crossed we the river Isen. Not for the first time ever, but this time for adventure and not for petty squabbles with the Dunlendings.
But now I tire and would much rather reacquaint myself with the loaf of bread and warm ale I have before me. Though to this book I will return sooner than later, I reckon. Now that I've written a few lines I find it a fine enough pastime.
