Found:
This change of routine has not been of much help thus far. The nightmares remain and are not in the least bit diminished for all the meditation and lack of tea. Perhaps I must simply work harder at it? Or, at least, continue for longer before deciding whether or not it is worth the effort.
I needed to get out of the house. It doesn't matter how deeply I bury my head in translations or how much time I spend closing my eyes and emptying my mind, sooner or later these walls press in around me and I feel trapped. Crushed. Buried beneath the weight of the rubble I wish this place was.
Rather than give in and set the house ablaze, I went to a new place I'd heard of, the Smugglers Rest tavern. I wasn't expecting to stumble across an old and familiar face there! Although I am glad that I did. Or I was, anyway, after I gave my wayward little brother a bloody good slap around the head for failing to inform me of his return.
It seems he's not had the best time of it. He left due to threats made against his loved ones and a bounty upon his head. He found one of his missing siblings only to learn that it was he who placed that bounty upon him. The meeting did not end well.
Now, it seems, his heart is hardened. Understandable under the circumstances, but not necessarily a good thing. This Vanden, whom he names friend, would seem to be encouraging paranoia and bloodlust.
I hate having to be the voice of reason.
On my way back from that place, I was stopped by a Ranger, of all things. A young one, by the sound of it, who sought my help in some matter concerning missing merchants. Some bandit going by the name of Skullboar - Skullboar? Really? Who comes up with these monikers? - is suspected of being behind it. Of course, there was little I could do. I've no skill in tracking people, I'm no warrior and even if this investigation led into such places as my particular brand of expertise might be of aid, I remain retired.
He tried to tempt me with coin and manuscripts, which was both amusing and interesting. How desperate he must be to do such a thing! I still declined. Money has never meant much to me and whilst the books certainly piqued my interest, still, I would stand to lose something far more important if I took up my pickaxe again right now.
I value history. I value knowledge. I value him far more.
Still, callous as I can be, I am not entirely heartless. I've no more love for kidnappings or what have you than anyone else. I can't help him, but I know someone who can.
I sent him to Ost Forod to seek out an old... acquaintance. Eltan. I made sure to warn him to get changed first. The man couldn't have been any more obviously a Ranger if he had dressed himself up as a star of Arnor, for goodness sake! And his kind are not exactly welcome there. Eltan, especially, would be more than happy to use his entrails as a noose to hang him with were he to admit what he is. He's been warned. It's out of my hands now.
Rahvic came by to see me in the evening. It seems he has turned his hand to smuggling since his return. I am, somehow, not in the least bit surprised. I'm not so certain about how good he and his cohorts are, however. He does have a knack for getting himself into trouble and I think he may know more about this unfortunately named brigand than he's letting on.
Time will tell, as it does with so many other things.
