Laayla

Aeruthuil lets out a sigh as he looks around. All the men seemed to be long asleep by now, he smiled for a moment before looking down towards Ayla who had been sleeping on his lap. He carefully goes through her hair, playing with it for a while. Her hair had gotten longer, he hadn't noticed before but it was nice. He smiled to himself again as he stares in to the fire. He could not have been more luckier and happier with a woman like her, she means the world to him.

The company of the Bloody Dawn that had set out for Ost Guruth and Katnya had woken up in the Forsaken Inn, to Tim's side beside Gwyn and Basaran had Seaver and Ayla joined as well now.

Is there not a place in this Middle Earth that is not tainted by my memories? I felt it in the Forsaken Inn. As I sat there in the gloom night after night and sunk enough mead to numb my senses to the world last summer. Unbeknown to me that my lover would soon get her dues for the trouble she brought upon herself. I knew it would happen eventually. I knew she wasn't good for me. I knew how that story ended. Yet I carried on with the charade anyway. She should have died by my hand the moment she read of my secrets. They were mine and mine to share alone.

I almost did not bring you, book. Nor any writing implements. I must take care not to wake the woman by my side. She keeps stirring, and I do not wish to have to explain your existence. It is an unusually quiet night in the Trollshaws but that in itself is ominous, I find I cannot rest, the memories of this place. The bank of the Hoarwell. They keep me awake.

While spending my time off talking about work related matters with Mandic at the Pony today, I was interrupted by a woman who sought more information about the actions of the Watch in regards to an attack that happened this week. Due to being preoccupied with other work (refer to my other report for more information), I was unable to answer her questions, but decided to follow her to the scene of the crime in order to gain more information about what occured.

Diary,

The gentle breeze of night flowed around him in her deceiving quiet, she wrapped him in her gentle embrace, like a soft child lying awake in her arms, he sat upon the roof. He enjoyed the night. He was born from within her whom. She cared for him on the streets of Lake Town, his past. She was a gentle friend. So far the only one in which he could truly trust. Below him the town of Bree sprawled open under the dim light of the stars. It was deathly in its slumber.

It was early morning as he ventured back to the Dawnhall from a night at the Prancing Pony. New recruits had been hired all thinking him the captain, drinks had been drunk and jests had been enjoyed. He dismounted his gelding, Stranger, and led him into a booth where the steed could rest for the night. He gave him two pats on its neck, softly whispering to him "Soon you'll be a captain's horse." He grinned a bit as the horse looked at him, whinnying a bit.