Bree

Faustino’s Journal, Ninth night since the eighth moon of this year. Bree, I killed an Elf today, shot him clear through the throat, he dropped to the floor as blood was pouring out of his wound, another elf ducked down and sat next to him, but it was to late, i saw his strength leave as he collapsed. I sheathed my Crossbow on my back, and made a run for it, have they seen me? Maybe, but who cares, I'm like a shade running over the rooftops of Bree, they won't figure out who it was, "hah" Not in a million years.

Faustino’s Journal, Eight night since the eighth moon of this year. Bronhaven, A knock on the door, I tilted my head while I was sitting in my chair, who could it be, I walked to the door, opened it and there was a man, introduced himself as “the courier” he handed me a pouch filled with silver coins, and a letter…

It had been a while since he had set foot inside the town of Bree, and his heart was filled with a loathing several leagues before he reached the gate, a loathing he was trying to keep at bay by wearing a false smile upon his lips. Even Haeleth his mount dipped her head and slowed herself to a canter, her ears pulled back in protest at the quality of stabling on offer.