Bree

Arenborn had returned to Bree-land, his journey back from Gondor taking much time, which he had used to think. He had, not wasted, but failed to use his time in Bree effectively. He knew what he wanted in life, and how he could get it, so why had he ignored it? This is of course, the Knights of Eriador. He had met members of the secretive organisation the last time he was in Bree, and they had welcomed him to their ranks. However, he had not spent much time with them, preferring to spend it with Tosie, or with a large quantity of alcohol.

It was early afternoon when Fiontann met with his apprentice, they talked for hours and he learned that some foreigners started an uproar against the Watch. Fiontann considers them useless, but it's only him that can do that, not those Outsiders that infest his town... After his apprentice left he went to his desk and took some pieces of parchment, in them he wrote his opinion about the matter and his support towards the Watch, one was sent to the jail, their Quarters and three or four more were hung in the town in places to be seen!

A few days has passed since my last entry here in Bree-land. I was meditating upon a rock in the center of a wide stream when a man approached me, asking me what I was doing. I never answered his question, telling him that he shouldn't sneak up on strangers. Surprisingly, he immediately made his way across the stream and sat down on the rock I stood on. This was genuinely shocking, that someone would behave so strangely. Long story short, we spoke for a short time, nothing particularly interesting, and then departed away from one another.

"Can't I at least get a kiss?"

Dagramir would protest as he was persuaded, half-naked, towards the ajar window of a Bree-town house. First floor. Bedroom. As to be expected. The bare, young woman whose name he had forgotten amidst the heat of passion would have only giggled, before continuing her efforts to remove him from the premises, handing him his boots and shirt that had been rapidly discarded the previous night. Rays of the dawning sun beating against the glass, illuminating the scars of his back.

She turned in bed, still sleepy when indelicate knocks on her apartment doors were to wake her up. Dawn was on the brink, and it earlier came by each day, so she didn't light a candle, and went to the doors, opening them she found her homeowner already gone but pitcher with hot water at the foothold.