Prancing Pony

My last two days have been fairly interesting. I have not only met a newly arrived aducated healer, I dare say doctor, though I am beginning to come in acceptance to the fact that I am surrounded by idiots.

This is a story about love, or call it a love story if you like. 

Waldera walked into the Inn of the Prancing Pony in her usual manner, craving for a warm cup of tea. She had had a day full of readings and was a bit weary of the shallow small talks of the small minded patrons of the inn. She waved kindly at the barmaid and gestured for a cup of tea in the white tea cup which she always prefers.

My journey has started, with a quite unexpected first few days. 

Redwick's Flight

The following took part upon Redwick's journey along with Alfknutr, Threland and Darok to the Deadman's Dike within the North Downs. There were others upon this journey however they were not often among the initial four and have no part within the tale given here.

As here I sit, right before the fires at the Inn of the Prancing Pony, I must think about the journey before me. Through snow and wind, frost and chill, and a jouyous journey may it be!

And it all came down to the final blow, the strike that caused to end the life of yet another target. Another human being with all rights to live, in the eyes of the wise.

I would not refer to it as a diary, more like a logbook of memorable occurrences . A diary one would write in daily, which I do not. We can call it a logbook of sanity, as above all else I have to try to hold on to the thought that I am not entirely losing my mind with the current, stressful profession.