I’m on watch. I haven’t done this in a long time. I don’t remember how long though. More than two years, less than five. Still a long time and feels even longer. I missed it. It’s boring, yes. But it’s also hard. Having to stay focused when you’re alone. Having to stand quiet and as still possible and watch. Even down here it’s hard. I am sitting by the edge of light, by the stairs, as I am writing this. I could write whoever finds this piece of parchment, but I won’t. I’m sure we’ll get out. I have been in worse positions than this and I made it out. This is just one of many.
We’re in a tomb somewhere in the Trollshaws. Blodflaed, Morfryn, Evonne and this Hobbit, Damianita, that we came upon while searching for those orcs. She was a prisoner of theirs. We were lucky then. We couldn’t fight them. But something in the forest killed them. It was a mess. A bloody field. A slaughter field. There was no battle. Something came and killed a whole band of orcs. I stopped counting after a hundred.
We have to find these orcs and their leader. We have to stop them. Find the item and hide it. If what is told is true. We’ll see. For now we have to get out of the tomb. It hasn’t been long now since they have stopped banging on the door. I hope that the others are sleeping. They need it. We all need it. I only have two torches. We are lucky that the braziers are still working, they can give us some light while we’re resting. It will be challenging to go through the tomb though. It’s pitch black. We will have to hurry. The torches won’t last long and I have already used the first one a little bit. We might find something inside to burn, but we also might not. I hope that the darkness is our only rival down there.
I wonder how are Cedwyn and Averick. I’m sure they are fine, but I can’t help but worry. I’ll always worry about them. Even when the times get quiet and there is nothing foul out there I’ll worry when I’m not with them. Why have I left them? Why will I do it again? Because others don’t have anyone to look after them. No one to shield them and no one to fight for them. I know that Cedwyn and Averick are safe and as long as I can I’ll try to make others safe and return home to them.
It’s so quiet here that it worries me. Like the calm before the storm. The night before a battle. The evening before a raid. When the music and the laughter stops and you’re waiting, counting the time and watching the stars and marking each change in their position. Not knowing what the next moment will bring. What the darkness will bring. The shadows play tricks with my eyes sometimes. They dance and make the ancient Gondorian mark change shapes, sometimes making one big shadow and other times countless small. I keep thinking that I should go take a look. But it’s nothing. Nothing but the crackling of the fire can be heard. We’re alone here.
