The Forsaken Inn truly earns its name. Its dirty, smelly, falling apart at the seams, and only really frequented by people who have no other choice. And, as luck would have it, about once a year before the onset of winter I have no other choice, and I make the journey to the inn to trade with some of the people who live in the desolate lands beyond. Usually I'll trade a cart full of furs for a few bags of trinkets, which usually sell to a couple of wealthy hobbits in Bree for at least double the actual price of the furs. It's a fine trade, and over the years it has helped me greatly.
However, the return journey is often tedious. All of the scenery is repeated from the first half of the trip, and it's all along a road. Not to mention, it's not even the straightest path back to Bree; the road bends southwards to avoid the Midgewater Marshes, adding unnecessary time to an already boring journey. So, to spice things up, this year I decided to take a shortcut through the Midgewater Marshes.
It was, in short, one of the worst decisions of my life. The start of the journey wasn't terrible, though I had to constantly swat the midges that were incessantly biting me, and I nearly had to cover my ears to stop from hearing that terrible neek-breek of the neekerbreekers. But the pools of still, shallow water could be easily avoided, and I only got mud on the very bottom of my boots. That is, until I came upon a wider pond, that looked like a pain to go around. Knowing that all of the previous pools were rather shallow, I expected this one to be as well, and I crossed over the muddy water. Then, as I neared the other side, it happened: a weak part in the ground in the water below me gave out as I put my left leg onto dry land, trapping my right leg in a hole that came up to my knee.
I struggled to get out, wiggling and pulling my leg with all of my might but to no avail. I twisted my body so as to lay upon the grass at the edge of the water, and I began shouting, "Help! Help! Somebody! Please, help me!"
To which the only reply I got was neek-breek, breek-neek, neek-breek.
For an hour I just lay there, yelling for help, but I don't know if anyone could've heard me over the neekerbreekers. Midges kept biting at my face, and more than once in my shouting I swallowed one. Accidentally, of course.
Then, as my first panicked hour of being stuck passed, I was left with a strange mix of anxiety and boredom. So I took my two bags of trinkets and looked intently at them, trying to imagine who used them long ago, what exactly they were used for, that sort of thing. The coolest thing I had was a small candelabra with a dragon carved into it in silver and gold. It was broken, which might depreciate the value a bit, but it was a really neat piece.
When I got bored of looking at the trinkets, I laid there, trying to think of more things to do. I shouted "Help!" a few more times, ate a small snack of vegetables I bought from the Forsaken Inn, and shot an arrow directly above me, to see what would happen. It landed a couple feet away from me, and I was freaked out enough not to try it again. Then I got rather thirsty, and I drank the remainder of my water skin.
Night approached, and I saw there was no escaping before then. So, still swatting midges, I packed down the grass below my head and made a makeshift pillow. And, as the sun fell over Bree-land to the west, I began to dream sweet dreams of giant neekerbreekers and midges, attacking me. It was rather unpleasant, but what was even more unpleasant was my rude awakening at the hands of the weather. It was already rather cold, but I could deal with that since I had a cloak and gloves and whatnot. But then, in the hours before dawn, it started to rain.
It was then that I really cursed my luck. "Help!" I started shouting again, even though now there was even less of a chance of being rescued than before. So I just laid there, my cloak soaking through in the downpour, and I entered into a strange, detached haze of discomfort and agony. Before I knew it, the sun was rising in the east over the Lone-lands, and I searched my pack for breakfast. I had eaten all of the vegetables already, and all I had left was some raw meat that I couldn't cook. So my stomach growled, and I laid back down.
The rain had stopped by then, and I thought that maybe then I could get some sleep. So I curled up into a ball and launched into a short nap. When I awoke (no more than an hour later) I realized that I was curled up into a ball, and my leg was free! The rain must've loosened it, and the way I removed it must've been the ideal way to do so. I laughed, and hastily stood, sure to stand only on dry land. I gathered my things and went directly south to the road, and hungry, thirsty, wet, and cold I followed it all the way to Bree. It's a long walk in such conditions, but it's better than the biting midges and the sound of the neekerbreekers in the marshes, so I didn't mind as much.
When I reached Bree, I made straight for the Prancing Pony. There I recovered as best I could, eating and drinking as much as possible, and warming up by the fire. I bought a room that night, and stayed in what seemed to be the most comfortable bed in the world.
