Penned in precise and evenly lined sentences, a blank page near the middle of a slightly scuffed, top-grain leather journal is newly inscribed. If one were to flip past the filled pages to the very beginning, one would find the first page titled with: Bernie Tweed, Bree-land followed by a series of odd symbols.
20 Lithe
Home, Bree-land
√ Hives looked iffy on inspection today. More overgrowth on the entrance reducers, so spent a good while cleaning them all up this morn.
√ Sent off that order what the baker placed, so the backstock’s looking slim.
→ Hadn’t had Miss Kitowyn turn up round here for work since that whole fiasco up in Bree. Could sure use a hand with prepping. Hopefully she turns up again real soon.
← High time I get back out for a day of fishing again. Lucky bobber’s itching for action.
≡ Got most of the work done by early afternoon this day so took the stroll on up to town to finally go look up Miss Bryndis, who I hadn't seen in a time. Figured it were as good as time as any to get her stitching out my side for it were bothering me overly much, being poor quality and such. And truth be told I still wanted to take her out for that second round of ale what I owed her too.
Now since she’s still new round these parts, it took me a time to find her flat. Wandered all the main streets first with no luck at all, then branched off down one of the side lanes and near to Mud Gate is finally where I spotted a teeny handpainted wooden sign showing it were a healer within. Will say the outside looked tidy considering the rough location, with the door paint not chipped at all and a clean foot mat lain out on the swept porch.
Opened the heavy door and stepped into a tidier shoppe than expected. Smelt all herby-like from all the ointments and oils lining her walls, but I like those scents so that were real nice on the sniffer. Knocked loud even though I were inside already since no one heard me come in and a moment later Miss Bryndis came round all smiling at yours truly.
Let me put here that her smile’s one of them warm ones what makes you think she’s genuinely happy to see you, which she probably were on account of me oweing her nother round of ale and she surely enjoys her drink.
No other customers to be seen but asked her anyway if she were busy cause that’s the polite thing to do, and when she said no I tossed my hat on one of the nearby chairs then told her I needed her to cut her shoddy knotwork out of my side cause it were bothersome. Followed her up into her workspace and she had me doff my (brand new and flattering to my frame) tunic then stretch out on a cot which were not very soft.
I got to admit that she were gentle and delicate with yours truly, just lightly touching my bog-wound with her hands even when it were obvious that a sturdy man like me can handle grievous pain. But it were nice the way she leaned in close to take a gander and I think I even caught a whiff of whatever soap she uses, so I stayed pleasant as can be. Til she turned round and told her shoppe-boy to boil a knife. Then all niceties were straight out the window and I were ready to push her aside to leave cause being cut with a hot knife were not something I came for, not at all.
But her shabby knotwork needed to come out and my constitution’s strong as an ox, so’s eventually I agreed to let her come at me with this hot knife despite all my better judgement cause I knew I could handle it if she missed. Which thankfully she did not. Bully for me.
Got up to leave, stepped outside to head for home, then discovered I lost my key so’s I came back inside looking. Which turned into a good thing, for Miss Bryndis is a coming over to my homestead for drinks soon instead of the pub.
Cause Bernie is moving on and not thinking bout no elfin lady these days.
