Tonight is my first night sleeping in a real bed since I slept in that inn in Buckland almost two months ago. Between then and now I've been roaming rather aimlessly, which I'll summarize here. It hasn't been the most pleasant experience of my life, thought that's in part because I chose to take this retreat (if you will) in the winter, when the weather is cold and the sun hides behind the clouds.
So I'll fill you in on all the details of the journey. After I took shelter from the storm in Buckland, I followed the Brandywine north to Girdley Island, where I stayed for a couple weeks waiting for Narys. She said she might join me when I saw her in the Forsaken Inn, and eventually she did, but it seemed to be more out of a sense of obligation, and she had to leave due to another prior engagement soon after she arrived. It was good to have the company while it lasted, though.
After Girdley Island, I decided that I finally wanted to see the Shire. So I crossed the Brandywine Bridge and made it as far as the village of Stock before turning back. I just felt out of place. Too far from home. A Bree-land hunter sticks out like a sore thumb in that place. I think that Buckland is the farthest into hobbit territory I'm willing to venture.
Then I traveled back east. I stuck to the north of the road, in the fields and woods. I traveled slowly, since a significant part of my day was devoted to finding and hunting for food to eat. I never had problems or anything, it just took a bit of time. I ate a lot of venison, as well as some pork, and I also got to fish a little in Starmere Lake. There are a lot of berries and roots and leaves that are fine eating as well, if you know where to look.
I reached the Greenway maybe a week or so after I left Girdley Island. Still wanting to see new places, I decided to travel north along the road for as long as I felt the need to. I had never been north past Trestlebridge before due to all the warnings and dangers, but I was feeling particularly brave that day so I went for it. By the next day's noon I had reached the town, but I decided not to stay for the night, and instead I continued northwards into the North Downs.
Some sort of brash, adventurous mood seized me at this time and I ignored all the horror stories and cautious tales I had heard about Deadmen's Dike. I went far enough north so as to catch a glimpse of the great walls of that ancient fortress, at which point I felt a chill down my spine and all those horror stories and cautious tales I had heard returned to me all at once, louder than before. I turned back, though I couldn't prevent myself from glancing behind me every few minutes to insure I wasn't being followed by some ghost or ghoul or, even worse, orc.
I reached Trestlebridge at noon again, and again I decided not to stay overnight. Now I went east along the Northern and Eastern Bree Fields towards Nen Harn, where I planned to stay a bit and catch some turtles. Excited at this prospect, this segment of the journey didn't take as long as it might have, and I had reached the lake the day after I had reached Trestlebridge. I stayed along the coast of the lake for almost a full week when I decided to move on. Every night I had had snapper soup, and every night it was delicious, but I didn't want to start to get sick of it.
So I moved south, through the Chetwood. This was my last leg of the journey, and it took me from when I left Nen Harn to when I reached where I am now (Combe - Ellie's house to be exact). I'd give an exact timeframe, but I wasn't really paying attention and I lost count.
I'd have written sooner, but I had spilled my inkwell on Girdley Island after my last entry, and I neglected to rectify the situation until now.
Anyways, that's all for now. Who knows where I'll go next? I suppose that will be the content of future entries, so in a weird way you'll know before me.
