The simple land of Bree-land

​After a tedious chase of a foolish horse thief. Archer found herself making her way toward the brandy hills and atop the lone ruin of Ost Barandor. Her bow wet with the bandit's blood and she had thoughts aplenty. If it's one place where life slowly went by, it was Bree-land.  Bandits roamed the fields night after night and day after day. People in the Prancying Pony were always singing and sharing merriment without a single care in the world. Folk coming into the land either for a new start or to stir trouble.  Bree-land was hardly the most dangerous place. But it certainly had it's characters. Things never seemed to change around these parts and it was then she realized how much she envied the simplicity of the land itself.  She had taken out her pipe and looked over at the edge of the ruin "Solitude again." She stated. Archer looked up toward the stars as if searching for an answer of some kind. "Am I a monster I wonder?"  She drew out a long ring of smoke. She shook her head to herself and yet again the only voice she heard was her own. "Am I doomed to end the lives of men until my grave?".  Archer continued to look at the stars. "Alas, not even the heavens can answer me." She scowled and put out her pipe. "Bitterness is my only friend." Archer turned and walked back to her campsite in the center of the ruin.