Journeying

A few days have passed since I last sat down to fill these pages. I would have written every single day, yet I wish to restrain myself some, to not fill this small journal too fast.

Yesterday I arrived in Bree, and my first action was to take almost all of father's scrolls and books to the local archives. The scholars there thanked me greatly and rewarded me with a small amount of coin, less than I had hoped for, yet I shall comfort myself with the thought that surely father's collection will bring benefit to the local people.
Motte certainly seemed relieved to find me emptying the saddle bags, however, they will be filled again, though hopefully nothing returning to them will weigh as much as those books.

(A small leather bound journal of a reddish brown, some pages previously having been torn from it, as well as the first pages filled with some notes about plants, some unfinished poems, and a list apparently written for a shopping trip to the market. The following lines, the first of what appears to have turned into a diary.)