I've lived in Bree-land all my life. I was born here, I was raised here, I was an apprentice here, I became a hunter here, all contained in this small area. And I've always been perfectly fine with that. I never really needed to voyage east beyond the Forsaken Inn, or north beyond Trestlebridge, or west beyond the Brandywine, or south beyond Andrath. So you might wonder what has changed in the nine months since I wrote last.
I think it started with a fight with Ellie. She kicked me out of her house. Guess I overstayed my welcome, made one or two too many business suggestions or something. I don't know, it was a while ago. That was a few weeks after my last entry. In the rush I left this journal at her house. I don't think she realized what it was, and she sent it in a package along with all of my other books to the Scholar's Stair Archives (where most of the books had come from). That's where I found it again, earlier today.
I was about to leave when I found it, I was just looking for a book of maps to help me on my journey. But when I entered the archives, Newbold pulled me aside and told me he had my journal. I was surprised, but not overly so, and I decided I'd write another entry detailing what's happened and what's going to happen (I'm not planning on taking this journal, I'll leave it in the archives). I guess I haven't done a very good job at that so far, so let's start from the beginning.
After Ellie kicked me out nine months ago I didn't know quite what to do with myself. I was growing used to having a permanent roof over my head, and sleeping in a comfortable bed every night. My hunting expeditions were short and only at daytime, mostly into the Chetwood.
Maybe getting kicked out was just the push I needed. I was getting a bit too comfortable, too routine. I don't know. I spent a lot of time in the wild after that, roaming aimlessly between the Brandy Hills and the Weather Hills. All of my hunting was just to feed myself, I didn't bother to collect furs or bones to sell or anything. So, hunting and gathering and wandering and camping was my life for some time. Then winter came, and I didn't know where I should take shelter. I found an abandoned house north along the Greenway, near Trestlebridge, and I lodged in there. Spent my nights sleeping by the fireplace, spent my days out hunting for food. A month or two ago I left that house. Spring was here and all, so I figured I could survive just fine out there, just like I did before winter came.
Something changed. I got bored, I guess.
Now I'm going to leave Bree-land. I don't really know where I'll go. I think I want to see mountains, or maybe the sea. I've only read about them. The closest thing to a mountain I've seen is Weathertop, and the closest thing to a sea is Nen Harn. I'm ready for some new experiences. After all, I don't have much better to do.
My life has been thus far very contained, within the confines of Bree-land, as well as within the confines of my own comfort. I think I'm ready to experience something new, which hasn't happened for some time. We'll see what happens, I guess.
Will I be back? I don't know. If you, reader, see another entry in here after this one, then I guess that means I made it back to Bree. If not, I guess it's open for interpretation.
