Caravan to the south

The Prancing Pony, Bree

Dear Mother,

Ch. 6 The Horse and the rider

“Leading a caravan?” Aeldryt said. “What on earth is he doing that for?” Bernard lifted his shoulders “That’s all I know, friend, but rumour goes they attempted to reach Rohan and it failed and are now on their way back.” Aeldryt looked at him “Any idea when they shall return?” The Bree-lander shook his head “Not an idea, it could be tomorrow, it be could be another week, there’s no telling.”
 

Ch. 5 The search begins

Aeldryt woke up with the sun shining brightly on his face. On the ground lay his armour, the blood on it, mostly dried up. The small bowl with water he had used last night to wash his face and hands was all red. “Not a scratch, I still got it.”he had said, he had thoughts whilst he was washing himself. Reluctantly he moved towards the side of the bed, two nights in a row he had had nearly no sleep and had killed about two to three dozen brigands. Not all by himself, but he was there nonetheless.

Ch. 4 The nightly assault

He took the circlet from his forehead and placed it carefully in the middle of the brown cloth. Gently he folded it up so that the circlet was completely wrapped up and then placed it back in one of the saddlebags.

Ch. 3 The Reunion

The Prancing Pony was as busy as ever. The hustle and bustle in the bar area could even be heard in the room of the blonde man. He was sitting at his small table peering over a few maps and the hastily drawn note of Bernard. He had been running around on his horse the whole morning surveying the land.

 With his quill he was writing down notes, arrows and crosses on the maps, a determined look in his eyes. Sometimes his eyes drifted off to the corner of his room where some item lay on the floor wrapped in a rough, brown cloth.

Chapter two: A room....with a view