Bree

Notvar got to Bree by night time, and assuming this was a good place to be by the loudness of the night. The quieter the night, the more dangerous it is. He explored a bit of the town to find an organized place raised by man, a civilization he has not seen since he left Dale in his early years. He has not seen any foul creatures or vile man on the outskirts of the town, so he decided to settle there and stop heading west for an uncertain amount of time, and see where fate takes him next. He ended up camping on a lake near the forest, almost by dawn.

It has been a few years now and I am truly content, when I first arrived here in Bree I did not seek to linger like many of the travellers whom pass through I sought to only pause briefly. Many a scholar has written of fate, mused and debated its meaning or purpose, I cannot say I am wise nor learned but there is no doubt in my mind something guides us even if hidden from our eyes.

Time passes swiftly..

Eofeole had a long sleep in his little camp outside of Bree that night. He awoke when the sun was already warm in the sky and little drops of rain began to start falling down on his face. He raised his hood and smiled at the weather before fixing his spears and his shield to his back. He walked into Bree from the West Gate at a great pace, by now the rain was falling down harder and he was getting soaked among with all the other townsfolk who were out in the rain. He walked to the Prancing Pony  where he had a quick word with the friendly Barkeep, Barliman Butterbur.

Diary.

This is my first time I’ve come home in days. Well, whatever this place is. I’ve moved twice so far. This time, I couldn’t bare the sight of it…

I have begun to disbelieve the paranoid belief of my kin that there were witches among the elf-kind, but perhaps I have been gravely mistaken.