Dale

It had been Daph's first night staying at the inn in Dale. She was tired, irritable and homesick. On top of this, the inn was poorly built and every movement seemed to make the wood creak, which somehow added to her annoyance. But...she knew if she did not eat before laying down to sleep, she would regret it in the morning.

(OOC Author's note: It has been brought to my attention that this story might possibly seem pointed, and even possibly at more than one person. I would like to assure anyone and everyone who reads this, that it is simply a piece of Berarna's backstory, and her view on it. My story has no target.)

Eachna's father was a kindly, respected older gentleman of the nobility. He had placed himself in many situations benefiting himself and his family, at least, politically speaking. He had worked hard to bring his father's decrepit estate back from the brink of ruin. His connections were scholarly, political, and in trade. He was known for his generosity to those less fortunate, and for his hobbies of philosophy and herbalism. He had done well for himself, in the eyes of others.

But he had, in those eyes, a failing which could not be ignored.

I write as though to a friend, though it is only to myself. I had never thought of writing in a journal until now, but it seems as my new life begins, I ought best to chronicle it. For whom, I cannot say, other than myself.

I should have supposed that the opportunity was always going to be too good to be true. A caravan of Erebor dwarves and Barding merchants heading westwards seemed like the perfect chance for me to get away from Dale once and for all. I needed a fresh start. The Watchmen of Dale were at their wits’ end with me, and the folk of Lake-town were getting rougher with those they deemed criminal or unsavory.