Found;
A possible solution.
I had returned to Trestlebridge, as promised. I was hesitant to enter the place, as I always am. 'Tis not the burned buildings or grubby people. 'Tis not the sense of despair that permeates the place like a cloying cloud. 'Tis not even the lack of decent amenities that makes me dislike the place so. I've come across smaller, dirtier and more disagreeable places on my travels. Rather, it is the way the people look at me when they remember who I am. I'd really rather they didn't.
My first stop was to the healer. He's not the most knowledgeable man but those few here of a more educated variety are busy with far more important issues than that which I require aid with. I had no desire to disturb their work. He remembered. He smiled and grew excited when he realised, something which I was only too quick to curtail! Still, I must suppose that it worked in my favour for, reluctant as he was to fulfill my request, he promised to try. It will take a few days, which should be time enough to find Toddir and deliver the good news.
Whilst here, my attention was caught by two people. Burfred, an old and seemingly absent-minded man who amused me greatly. He could probably do with washing his clothes, and his body for that matter. Everything about him would benefit from a good scrub, truth be told, but he was a dear soul.
Jeannetta, not so much. Whilst it is refreshing to come across a denizen of this town who does not treat me like some form of saving grace, her attitude left a lot to be desired. Small-minded, intolerant, unfriendly and about as bright as a snuffed candle, she was oblivious to the notion that people might treat her better did she not treat them with arrogant hostility. She also seems to have a rather poor grasp of economics, but that is by the by.
I found myself initially annoyed by her insulting generalisation that all people south of Trestlebridge are idiots and worse, but despite my dislike of such narrow views, I behaved myself. I've more pressing concerns to occupy myself with than the delusions of a disgruntled bumpkin.
My plan is less a plan and more alike a pl', half-formed and not guaranteed a favourable outcome. Indeed, it could do more harm than good, but it is the best I can come up with for the moment. If it works, I will be one step closer to solving the problem of myself. If it doesn't... I will simply have to rethink my approach. How does one fight ones own mind? A conundrum in and of itself.
Although I am hesitant to involve anyone else, I did tell Rhaug that I would pass on his message to Toddir, thus opening myself up to well-meaning interference one way or the other. Is it better that neither man know? Rowan is unlikely to return here anytime soon and thus my pl' could easily be enacted with him none the wiser. Unless, of course, I am discovered in its execution by one of the others whom I hold dear. Do I worry them with knowledge or a lack thereof?
A difficult decision, but I have time yet in which to consider my options.
