Evil

The sun rose thin and pale above the hills of Dunland as Deorla moved swiftly across the grasslands. Each step brought her closer to the Gap of Rohan, and with it, a turning point in her quiet campaign.

She had declined the offer of Galtrev’s loyalty—for now. Her words to the chieftain had been firm, veiled in smoke and patience: "When the time comes, I will send for you. When I have accomplished what I must." That time had not yet arrived. Not while her blade still moved in the dark.

To the Company of the East Road,

By the time you read this, I will be long gone—and not a single one of you should bother looking.

I leave behind no legacy, no fond farewells, and no apologies. Everything that bore my name within your halls—every record, every trace of my presence—has been reduced to ash. Whatever I was to you, it no longer matters. I’ve cut the ties, and you are nothing to me now.

Deorla sat alone in the quiet of the Bree homestead, the letter from Naridalis trembling in her hands. The familiar script, once a source of comfort, now bore words that cut deeper than any blade.

Trust, once solid among the Company of the East Road, now wavered like smoke. Naridalis’s words painted a picture of disillusionment, of friendships strained to the edge. Promises had been broken. The past Deorla had fought to bury clawed its way into the present, and now it stood like a specter between her and those she'd once called kin.

Dear Guriwen 

Deorla stood at the threshold of their new house, her heart fluttering with excitement as the early morning light streamed through the trees. The house was smaller than she'd imagined altho still much bigger than the previous one, there was something about it that made her chest swell with pride. The stone walls gleamed in the sun, a clear sign that the work was good, even if the cost had nearly drained their savings.

Whilst I was making my supper last night I was interrupted by a repetitive, rapid knocking at my door.  I answered to see a young woman standing there, she was obviously distraught and was carrying an infant swaddled in a shawl, he was crying, his face ruddy and tear stained.  I ushered them into my spare room which I have now prepared as a treatment room for my growing healing practice.  Immediately she stepped into my home I felt that same chill, a presence ever growing and with bad intent.   I felt on edge, could I catch this...

The day after my experience whilst gathering milk thistle I rose early, I was feeling strangely unsettled as if there were some unfinished business I had failed to attend to.  I had my breakfast and then headed to Errak’s home in Bree, a cottage just north of the Inn Gate which skirted the Bree farmsteads.  Upon my arrival I could hear chopping wood, I headed to the rear of the cottage where.

*Page can be found near the bar in the forsaken Inn. it seams to have fallen from the book it was being wrote in while its writer leaves.*

Day one.

The Forsaken Inn.

Domruth stands in the middle of the circle that is in the middle of the water that is more than knee deep. Around her are the ruins and from all over one can hear chanting in a strange language. Domruth holds two curved swords and her raven black hair flow to her right but... There is no wind.