murder

The sun had just set when Arra led the small band of hooded and masked figures through the Bree-Fields. Just ahead the dirt path met a small wooden bridge which went over the stream which flanked a nearby farmhouse. The windows were bright. "Someone's home," Arra said from beneath her hideous mask, carved into the shape of an orc's face. Some might call it an improvement.

Arenborn fought with a ferocity that he had previously never displayed, or would ever display again. He fought with such wanton savagery that his attackers fell back in dismay from his onslaught. He was not a man on the defensive, he was a man seeking one thing. Death.

The sun was rising over the Kingsfell, the birds were singing, and the warm breeze rustled the grass and leaves in the trees bright flowers covered the hills and crops were tall in the farm fields. Outside the farmhouse of one such homestead, a man was going about his chores. He slowly turned the handle of the wheel, hauling up a bucket of water while he appears somewhat frustrated, muttering angrily the whole time. He is dressed well, at least for a farmer.

The big chestnut horse snorted a greeting Bada approached, running his hand along the arched neck of the stallion. Murmuring to it, he began to brush the steed, the repetitive motion both relaxing and gave him time to think.

The pages are spotted here and there with tears, and the handwriting shakes in places.

Dear Ma, Pa, and dearest brother (who I hope knows I love 'im even as much as I teases 'im),

I am so sorry, Ma. I barely don't even know how to start. Oh Pa, you and him had been pals for so long. I am so sorry to have to write this.

Your friend, and my master, Nadvald of the Lonely Mountain, who escaped the dragon, is dead.

I interviewed another person in connection with Cirywen Ravencrag's murder, she wished to remain anonymous in the report so I will not endanger her by putting her name on parchment. She came to speak about Berrywine, voicing her opinion that he would not have been so sloppy to leave her body out nor kill her before he could discover who Cirywen worked for.

Yesterday I finished my interview with Seaver, I watched this man nearly break down from the guilt he carries because he could not protect the wo

A young woman, a Gondorian by birth, was found murdered a few days ago in her own home by her recently returned father Connwear. There is little evideince as the people who found her perhaps may be holding back and that is to be investigated further. Right now, there are a few suspects. 

Seaver - former lover, known for their rocky relationship, his temper and love of drink and bedding many women. He was out of town at the time of her death but there are still reasons to suspect he might have come back