Bree-land

The sun had just set when Arra led the small band of hooded and masked figures through the Bree-Fields. Just ahead the dirt path met a small wooden bridge which went over the stream which flanked a nearby farmhouse. The windows were bright. "Someone's home," Arra said from beneath her hideous mask, carved into the shape of an orc's face. Some might call it an improvement.

Dear Diary,

Do you know what time it is? If you guessed, “Time to talk about Jonn's feelings,” you guessed right! So, what am I feeling? Frustration.

Why am I feeling frustration, you ask? Well, to understand that, you first need to know who I am, what makes me the way I am. And I don't really think you know that. So let me explain myself to you.

Dearest Diary,

How much I do love thee. So much. So very, very much. Well, not really, but I figure if I'm going to continue calling you “Dear,” I should at least occasionally add a little sweet-talk. Or not.

In truth, I don't have much to say today. Merely a few hopes, concerns, doubts, and fears. Normally I could keep them to myself, but it can't hurt to write them down, document them. Can it?

Dear Diary,

So, if I want this to catch the eye of some future Treasure Hunter, it must have a title. Since not everyone in Bree-land knows their letters, and I want it to be clear I do—my dad taught me mine—I've decided to literally alliterate my literacy. Therefore, this dynamic diary of doubts, deliberations, and dramatic descriptions of daring do's shall henceforth be known as: Rarely wRitten Random Ramblings! Of course, being the serious person I am, I may later decide that such a title is simply too silly to keep. But we'll see!

The crew had a couple of ideas to get coin, but what they promptly jumped at was starting an arena of sorts - a brawling ring, run by them, with betting to make money. The captain formed a similar project in Bree some years back, but was too focused on the pleasure aspect to turn it into a profitable business at the time.