Milada

After meeting with Gerwolf, I made my way to the Prancing Pony Inn, planning to spend one last night in comfort before returning to Thorins Halls.   I pulled open the tavern door, instantly struck by the smell of ale and burning pipe-weed, pushing my way through the crowds to the bar.  I was about to signal to the bartender so I could rent a room when I looked to my right and saw something that made my blood boil.

Milada stood there, draining the bottom of her tankard.

Milada, who had allied herself with Hughes.

I was not content to leave Bree-land without giving Hughes a proper goodbye, so I returned, with a supply of flammable liquid, and went to her estate.

     It is a strange thing, to write my thoughts here, in this journal. More so for the fact that all the pages before this detail cooking techniques written in Gamlan's hand, and I am sad to say that I did indeed swipe it from him. Yet, the events of the last few days have been far from ordinary, so I should think that pardons this theft and its oddity.