lonelands

Day two had passed quietly. However upon seeing a sketch in Winnie's book, Ryheric had sent Harold to Bree to request Silver's presence. When Harold returned, he brought with him a letter addressed to Ryheric from a dwarven leader of a small guild running out of the Harp and Hammer. "We have shared goals, come and meet with our company" the letter said. Ryheric had Winnie write his response. It said that indeed, if goals were shared, the dwarf's company would instead come to the Lonelands to help Ryheric's company fight orcs.

Battle, the clanging of metal, the cries of rage around her and the battle cry's of friend and foe alike. Her ears rang as she moved to tackle a small goblin that had been unfortunate enough to cross her path as others ran past her. Her sense of smell burned with blood of goblin while her companions tore apart the area around her. The twang of an arrow. The sight of a friend. Ithilwe moved past her, keeping his distance as she dispatched her own foe nearbye.

Dear Journal,

I write this entry on several pages of parchment and a half used pencil I managed to barter off of the barkeep here in the Forsaken Inn. He's a rather grim fellow, but so are most in this rather dire establishment. You would think a folk so serious and stern would've had the common sense to patch up the gaping hole in the roof! Ah, but it's no matter. I suppose they'll warm up to me and my clever wit in no time at all.

Jonn stretched out his limbs, preparing for his first morning constitutional in far too long. It had been some six weeks since receiving the injuries that required him to recover for so long, and he had done his best to heed his elf-healer's orders not to push himself. The rest was necessary to make sure he mended properly, but when he tried hefting his large shield and felt how much heavier it seemed than before, he realized enough was enough. It was time to start getting back into fighting shape.