eorlings

Me and Gyth, Bawde an' Wulfie got out as far as that Oat's Guruth, past the forsaken inn. A miserable place it is, full o' folk that have no homes. They says that there is shades an' worse a-walkin' about nearby... and there is a great stinking mire.. when the wind blows wrong I can smell it. Faugh! no wonder they all looks so sad. makes me want the open wolds of home, see for miles, green grass and clean clean air. I feels a bit sad for 'em. They aint townfolk, they aint used to livin' all bunched up. Summat must be wrong, for them to run behind the big walls.

...and thats the last I'm seeing o'that elf. Feh... scaring a girl like that. they shouldn't be allowed amongst proper folk. I been staying in the Pony since then mind... wait until its gone far away. Getting to recognise some o' the good-fer-nothing types that hang around the pony.. allus there they are. Particularly that skinny fellow [jairyth], with that mess of a little beard and moust-aches - talks all the time, allus there with his woman out in the back rooms.

Heh... that went better 'n I thought... got the sausages out of the kitchen in that Pony, even though that woman said I was stealin'. Should have seen her face when I ate the evidence. Stupid wealas. Ate 'em and STILL got a free dinner. Not sure what to make of the gift-giver though. All burnt up she is, as brown as a muddy river. Says she's not from the South, but everyone knows they lives too close to the sun and gets a roasting.