Bree

Dear Reader, if you are holding this journal in your hands and reading it, it must mean that I am dead or that I have misplaced it. It would be very kind of you to do following. If I am dead, please be so kind and send this to Miss Celnessyn in Tegwent, Bree. If I have misplaced this, do return this to me right away or I shall curse you. For it is very unpolite to read one’s personal journal.

"What a waste of time," Lyfrid thought to herself as she road slowly toward Bree with Adso's Camp fading behind her.  The camp is a settlement located within the area of Southern Bree-fields in Bree-land.  Athwart the Great East Road and about half-way between Bree and the Brandywine Bridge a driven hobbit named Adso has set up a merchants camp for the weary travelers. This is also the place for his growing trading business ... growing if he could get some help to repel the prowling brigands and outlaws.

There came a day when Redwick left the Riddermark and Snowbourn that he was so fond of to return Bree-land where he wished to see his friends and companions once more. Though, what he found was more than what he expected and with Therwen tending to his daughter Erline with all her Redwick often lacked the close companionship he once had with her, though he continued to love her and Erline all the same. For he knew that there were a difference between a lover who is a stout shield-maiden and a mother.

"West, you say?"  Gretaric took another sip of his ale.

"That's right.  To Celondim, in Ered Luin.  You'd take the rubies to an Elf there, once you'd polished them."

"But what would an Elf want with a few rubies?"

Deorgast sat on the edge of a small cliff, observing the peaceful plains and hills of Rohan. He had his usual relaxed smile on his face as he looked around idly, a lot going through his head. He was fully recovered from his ugly wounds that almost had him killed a long time ago, back in the outskirts of Bree. It was the second time he got caught and beaten by his own kin, who judged him a deserter.
From that time, Deorgast kept the scar

It was nearly dawn by the time Lyfrid returned to the Manor, but she could not sleep, she was wide awake.  The young woman selected something simple to redress, tied on a large apron and hurried herself to the kitchen after her tantrum subsided.  There she found a sealed parchment, it was obvious it was the stationary of the lord of the Manor.  Though the Cook could not read, she had learned to spot a few words, one of them being her name when written so she

Lyfrid burst into the manor, stomped her way to her room.  There she tore off her dirty gown, though it was still in perfect shape other than the street dirt, it was ruined in her mind.  She balled the cream baldaquin dress and threw it into the fireplace in her room.  The fabric immediately burst into a hot flame, a lot like the woman's temper earlier that day in Bree.