Bree

The night had spread over Bree and the town went silent, it was only the guards that moved about with their lanterns and the lamps here and there spread light on the streets. The windows of the houses were bright and the fireplaces were burning as the townsfolk were trying to stay warm during these last cold days oft he passing winter. As always the Prancing Pony was full people and it was the only place in town that was louder than the nocturnal insects and the occasional owl in the forest.

"She was last spotted in the North Downs! Heading north from Trestlebridge! Bring her to me alive, and you'll earn your bounty". 

Furley addresses the crowd in front of him; a would-be chancer of a hobbit and his elven friend, another elf, and more than a few men who actually look prepared for the task ahead, donned in fine armour and stacked to the 9's with weapons. He gives them their heading, and they set off. 

As the sun nestled gently below the western horizon, splaying an obtuse array of luminous orange and purple across the sky, a dark figure slipped out from behind the stables of the Prancing Pony. Adjusting his ragged mustard hood with calloused hands, the man stayed a steady path to the south. There was nothing too inconspicuous about the cloaked figure, in fact, he was quite ordinary, aside from an incessant need to keep the identifiably rugged outlines of his features smothered in darkness.

To the House of Thane Freothulaf, son of Firmon

It was after the market a week ago that I noticed some of my works were beginning to be missing from my stock. I hadn't noticed until the raid upon the lumber-camp some few days ago. A group of brigands encamped in the Chetwood came upon us like a pack of mongrels. I grabbed my axe and charged out the door, dazed in the midst of it while I struggled to realize what was happening. A man in leather had come upon me, I jabbed my elbow into his gut and hit him with the blunt point of my axe.