Herne is quite a pleasant sort of town, undeserving of the complete and utter loathing I hold for it. For while the night casts shadows earlier each evening, and the late summer flowers close shutters for the winter, I am once again stuck here in Herne uselessly tempted to slam my forehead into this table. If it is damaged, perhaps it will prove I am as hard headed as my father always claimed.
Once again I met that man of accursed Angmar, spying in the town. In what was perhaps not my brightest idea, the young Rohirric girl I’d been deep in conversation with and I mounted her horse to chase him down. We ended up at the encampment of my kin, and though I may have some arguments with their leniency to their aggravating prisoner, it does seem they had the situation somewhat under control.
Which is why I am once again delayed, as I was asked to await the arrival of their commander to see if there was further news on Alphdir. Will there be news? Somehow I think not.
It was good to once again be among my own people, although the young Rohirric girl believes every slanderous rumour about the rangers, and was terrified to be in a camp of them. Her fear, however, did not stop her from complaining loudly about what cutthroat thieves they all were. I am afraid my patience grew rather thin, and after trying to hint that she might not fully understand the situation, and not to judge by appearances alone, I snapped at her to stop insulting my kin.
Upon learning that I was of the same people as these ‘ruffians’ she lost all trust for me, though pitied my misfortune in being one of this people of murderous brigands.
At which point, I declaimed every insult I could possibly think of for Rohan—despite my ignorance of the region, and assured her of how glad I was that she had escaped such barbarous people. I think she did get my point, but I got a little too loud and had to assure some of my own people that I had no hatred for the Horse-lords and certainly didn’t think they were cannibals. Though I think their willingness to jump to the defence of Rohan may have slightly eased Aelfie’s hatred of them.
Honestly though, I should just go hurl insults at the rocks and hope the Valar look with favour upon me, and I’m not interrupted by concerned locals. Or throw knives in the general direction of particularly annoying looking shrubs.
I escorted Aelfie back to Herne. It will be a few days until the commander returns, so I think in the meantime, rather than go completely insane here, I shall head back to some interesting looking ruins I saw on my journey here, and see what secrets of the past they may reveal. Occupying my mind with the puzzles of history may be a good idea right now.
