Since my coming to Eriador I have been met with many obstacles. Given that we are now entering a world of peace, the road from the South proved anything but. Creatures and bandits hounded my every step, but I was able to evade them with relative ease. I travelled light, with very little items of value worthy of a robbery. Nevertheless, I was well-prepared for conflict. My experiences on the road have made me wary, especially after the incident in Dunland.
The journey itself proved taxing. Provisions were scares and I relied solely on foraging from the land. Occasionally I would pass traders and small settlements who would be willing to assist, but they too were cautious to deal with one such as I. Although the War is said to be done, the people of Middle-Earth are still reeling from its effect. I deemed this wise, given the circumstances. Those most effected by the War were the commonfolk, after all. I have seen it many times, it is not the forces of Mordor that caused the most damage but the thieves and brigands seeking an opportunity whilst the protectors fight in foreign lands. Where there is chaos, evil thrives.
It was not until three days ago that I arrived at the familiar sight of Bree-land. I don’t know quite what I expected to see or feel. A cacophony of senses flooded back to me, memories stirring of a different time. A sinking feeling fell at the pit of my stomach. A hot, searing sensation rising at the back of my neck. Was it rage? A frustration of sorts? Or was it guilt, for all the atrocities I had inflicted upon the people of these lands. It is difficult for me to recall the person I was all those years ago. It seems to be now but a blur, a dream of which the intricate details are slowly slipping away piece by piece. I was not of a sound mind, how could I have been? Mordevin moulded me into a monster, it is true. But it was I who fanned the flames. That is a burden I must endure. Perhaps one day, I may even come to terms with it.
As I mused upon these thoughts, I came upon a ruin. It seemed deserted, but I soon realised that I was not alone. Atop the wall, a woman stood. She was armed with a spear and dressed in travelling clothes. Despite the weapon, I did not feel threatened by her. It seemed to me that she was only curious, wondering who I was. I convinced her to come down and speak with me, removing my hood as to gain her trust. She asked my name, something I would have initially concealed under an alias, but I did not feel the need. It was then that she returned the gesture of goodwill, by revealing herself as ‘Izre’.
Izre. The name seemed so familiar to me, even now. Her appearance, her voice, the way she carried herself. It was as if a fleeting moment of realisation fluttered over my senses but was promptly lost. We spoke at length, and she obliged me with information. I asked about the current situation of Bree, wondering or perhaps hoping to hear something, be it a name or group of people whom I might recognise. There were none. It was evident that the world had indeed moved on without me in my exile. It was then that I felt the sensation of relief wash over me, for I had no desire to meet any… acquaintances, from my past. This Izre told me she herself travelled to Bree for a purpose, to seek out the grave of a dear friend. Whoever this was, the person was of great value to her, but she did not elaborate. I usually pride myself on being able to read most people and get a vague sense of their person, but I confess, Izre eluded me in that regard. She was a closed book, bound shut, providing not an ounce of revelation. It was a curious thing, and it fuelled my thirst to know more.
Twilight was soon upon us and Izre invited me to her encampment. I declined, as I was eager to reach the West Gate as to satisfy my hunger from the road. I did however invite her to visit me at the Inn of the Prancing Pony, where I intended to lodge for the night. Despite not knowing much about her, I had a strange sense that she may be able to assist me in reestablishing myself in Bree. I need as many allies as I can muster at this stage. Being self-reliant can only go so far, and being penniless in the world is no small matter.
As I approached the West Gate, the conversation I had with Izre lingered on my mind. She asked me many questions, questions I could not answer entirely. Questions such as who I am, what was my purpose, why am I here of all places. The reality is, I do not know. I survived unspeakable horrors and bear the scars to prove it, but as to who I am? That is still yet to be determined.
Image created by AI, sourcing a screenshot from The Lord of the Rings Online
