Bree

It was one of those days, where Lana went out to the woods to do her usual business - a check up on the Brigands-situation in the Chetwood, before she'd probably loot a few things to get back to her boss. It's not that he made it easy for her to please him, but guild was guild and the payment was better than nothing.
It was okay, at a certain point you just learn how to co-op with the things you do and then it doesn't bother you anymore, that it might ruin another one's life.

A few days have passed since I last sat down to fill these pages. I would have written every single day, yet I wish to restrain myself some, to not fill this small journal too fast.

Yesterday I arrived in Bree-Land.

After spending weeks among the high deserts of the Lone-Lands I had found little to describe. The land is plagued with dry grasses and wolves who prowl in the night. The days were warmer than I would appreciate. 

Yesterday I arrived in Bree, and my first action was to take almost all of father's scrolls and books to the local archives. The scholars there thanked me greatly and rewarded me with a small amount of coin, less than I had hoped for, yet I shall comfort myself with the thought that surely father's collection will bring benefit to the local people.
Motte certainly seemed relieved to find me emptying the saddle bags, however, they will be filled again, though hopefully nothing returning to them will weigh as much as those books.

(A small leather bound journal of a reddish brown, some pages previously having been torn from it, as well as the first pages filled with some notes about plants, some unfinished poems, and a list apparently written for a shopping trip to the market. The following lines, the first of what appears to have turned into a diary.)

One day a cart pulled by two horses and carrying various crates and two passengers arrived in Bree.  It suddenly became involved in a high-speed chase with two other horses.  The following is what various bystanders saw as the chase sped through the city.

It was the middle of the night, Uruniire, tired of the Bree-lands, longing to be in elvish lands again, got up out of bed, put on his purplish-blue and green tunic and trousers, wide-brimmed hat, blue, with a massive feather in it, and pack, stuffed to the brim with books and scrolls, some rations, a coil of rope to scale the High Moor just outside Rivendell, and a small dagger for defense, and grabbed his staff. Then he left the Inn of the Prancing Pony. He went to the stables nearby, untying his horse from it's post, and was off.

Uruniire had just left the Inn of the Prancing Pony, deciding to take a stroll around the town to get ideas for the book he had planned to write. He was clothed in his usual tunic and trousers, as well as his pack, his staff, and a blue, wide brimmed hat, with a massive feather stuck into the brim to shade him from the morning sunlight. But wait, he had left his pack and staff in the Inn. No matter, he did not need them at the time.