Eordion

Nomad's Miraculous Play Of Mummery

The Fall Of The Stone Squatter

{Enter – Watchman}

A packed bag lay on a low straw bed, a sleeping Briannon lay there next to it, still asleep beneath a thin wool blanket. A smile flashed from a stool by the fire as Birchald watched her, doing absolutely nothing, he laughed quietly and shook his head. The kettle began to simmer over a small fire, time for tea. An arm stirred in the bed as he poured, and the smell of tea filled the small ramshackle dwelling with that trademark, awakening smell of morning. A strange fluttering filled his gut, he sipped his tea and turned to look at the fire.

Diary,

It's been a few days since I last wrote in here. Not much happened aside from buying a horse from a farmer. She's old, but healthy enough to carry me, and called Ethel. She's wonderful but I don't know how long she'll last.

Dear Diary,

I have seen my travel companions off, and now I am in the Prancing Pony once more. It is interesting how a place so well known can be so busy one moment and completely empty the next... Ah, well... the tea could be better, but it is the best offered...