Xanderian

The company was making final preparations to depart from Bree as the sun rose. Mounts and pack animals were being assembled in the courtyard before the Prancing Pony as Barliman glared from the stairs, Nob hiding behind his leg as if he wished to confirm that the band were actually leaving. The Innkeeper had made clear to Xanderian and Xandilif the night before that if any more damage or upset were caused by the travelers, he would have to put a large surcharge on their already considerable tab.

Asmalinde came fully awake. She had been drifting half in half out between the elven world and the earthly one. Nothing was clear to her. Flashes of a deep stairway, fire and stars blotted out by shadows. She shook her head and broke from her all but non-existent camp. She had left her horse behind in one of the small farms dotting the landscape on the edge of the Old Forest and the east road to Bree-town.

I have risen early, slipped into a robe and wandering up to the gleaming Dwarrow Mirror high above Tol Lochul to greet the dawn. Stars are still gleaming in the velvet blue sky as I reach my perch, arrange my implements, and begin to draft this account.