The Diary of Fallidir: Over the hills and far away

~Dated 1st of November It has been a long while since I thought of anything more than my mission over these hills, away... so very far away from the place I call home and the people I cared for. I do not even know if they care for me, let alone think of me in these days. By my count it has been eight weeks, eight weeks since I began this journey with hope in my heart to see a child of mine in some form, and with each increasing number of days that hope fades a little more and my body grows wearier and wearier. In these times I have stayed away from villages and towns. I must look like some bedraggled mess of a man, dirty, hairy but silent to all but a few. I would say something like a dwarf, apart from the fact I am taller than most dwarfs, and that they are not well known for being quiet... I am unsure why I bothered to keep account of my doings in this book, I guess it felt right to put it to paper, I figure it may be that someone will read it someday. I do realise now that I am alone out here in this wild dark land, my only companion is rain drumming off my clothes and chilling me right through to my very soul. Now I come to write these words I suspect they may be some of the last few written in this book, as there is nothing for me to write than my daily survival on what little food I carry, or can hunt or forage. If this is to be my last entry into this book, and that it should be found by another, that they take it to Eriador, to Bree and the Prancing Pony, hand it to Barliman Butterbur and tell him... Sorry I never paid off that bar tab.