The Pony
At our residence in Hookworth, Kirseth and I had a long discussion about our trip to the Forsaken Inn. We both agreed that it doesn't sound the most hospitable of places, but it was a worthwhile way to test the waters and map the surrounding areas.
I let her look at the map I had drawn in my journal, to show our path. She seemed surprised that I had been keeping a journal - and promptly tried flicking through the pages! I asked her not to, but she found it all rather funny. It appears my secret is still safe.
We discussed my writing, and talked of my initial intentions - the rather grim thought that we would not make it, and it would be the only message left of our travel to anyone who'd happen upon our bodies...and that now it's more of an enjoyable habit, to commit my findings and travels to paper. She had rather grand thoughts, of people back home in years to come discussing our adventures...a nice thought, but I am doubtful of such a premise.
I retold the story of my visit to the historical house, and of my falling asleep (met with many mocking jests!) and my renewed interest in books.
Kirseth asked to see the historical house before traveling to Bree - to finally afford an ale at The Prancing Pony and to pick up some supplies for our journey. I gladly escorted her.
We noted a rather nice spot for reading and writing, just outside. A nice bit of shelter under a brightly coloured tent, with the soothing sound of the nearby fountain.
We explored the library together, showing her the book, "The Cats of Queen Berúthiel" and the map in which my crude drawing was based upon...even my old friend, the infamous chair of sleep.
We made our way out of the village and took to the Great East Road to Bree, stopping to camp along the way - the same road we will take to The Forsaken Inn, albeit in the opposite direction.
The bustle of the busy streets of Bree were a welcome change to the quiet of the wilderness - bards playing music, sellers hawking their wares and other such sounds filled the air.
After a few drinks and a bite to eat, we make our leave of the inn...but to my surprise, I could hear faint whimpering from behind the stables. Upon further investigation, we happened upon a stray dog in the bushes, freezing and half starved. I shared my rations with the poor creature, and wrapped it up in my cloak. We decided to take it inside to get it some warmth by the fire.
Upon re-entering the inn, I spotted a familiar face - Beongarn - stood by the fire. I gently put the dog down by the fire as Kirseth got it some food and water. Next to Beongarn was a man I had never seen before, he said his name was Eormic, from Rohan. He was rather quiet, and seemed to deflect any questions on what he was doing in Breeland. All we found out, was that he was heading North, to a place called "Trestlebridge." Beongarn and I gave a few warnings of orc activity in the north, but he seemed rather determined to go.
Kirseth and I decided together that the dog needed a home, and asked Beongarn's permission to take it back to Hookworth, for us to take care of at our residence. He seemed happy to oblige.
After a few more ales and stories, we made our leave, taking turns carrying the now sleeping dog, still wrapped in the symbol of the White Tree. We made our way to the marketplace for provisions; picking up some potatoes, cheese, crackers, bread, a few waterskins and a bunch of apples.
I spotted Kirseth purchase an item I couldn't make out and slide it in to her satchel. On the journey back to Hookworth I jokingly confronted her on what she was hiding in her pack. It turned out, she had purchased a new leather journal for herself! It seems like I had somewhat inspired her to start writing her own side of our travels together.
We eventually made it back to our house. The dog had perked up and seemed to enjoy nipping and nibbling at my fingers playfully. We decided to name her "Nibbler."
We have let her inside the house to sleep at the foot of the bed. After the long journey, we are about to retire to bed, ourselves.
