Our quest to Sunstead started off pleasantly enough until we ran into those foul bandits of Tyrant’s Hill wanting to take our money. Little did they know, our funds have been running low for some time. I am disappointed. I’m letting myself believe too easily that all people are good. In these times, I must learn to be cautious. At least I can still trust my mattock and our fellowship to set right what is needed.
And these woods are needing to be set right. There is much evil that roams in them. I miss me mountain home. I miss Mair. Seeing Betony rise up to strike the wood wight brings hope and inspiration. We were fortunate not to lose her. And just as I think we shouldn’t be so trustful, we find new friends in Olwin and Avina to help us. Without their aide, I’m not sure she would have made it. I am now uncertain as to how to judge who to trust and who not to trust.
I must listen closely to my heart and question with my mind. In showing Baldac the error in his ways, my heart believes this was the right thing to do. My mind still ponders if he will stay the course.
At least it is clear when it comes to a wood wight, we do not hesitate. I have grown fond of Elabrimborn and trust that he has me back. Destroying the gem seemed clear to me and this allowed us to strike down that wicked wood wight. Helping the people of Sunstead rid themselves of this evil allowed us to gain good standing with its people.
Ceawin is a strong leader and his lore knowledge helped save Betony. He may have accepted the offer to attend the folk moot even without our defeating the wood wight. His people desire to stay in contact with their Woodsmen brethren to the north. He seems wiser than his age and this will help to keep his people safe.
We fulfilled our quest and we kept our word and helped Olwin and Avina with their harvest. We enjoyed their celebrations and Betony is doing better. With each adventure we keep the shadow at bay. I only hope that we are strong enough to keep it so.
Our return to Rhosgobel was uneventful and getting word to Radagast of our success was well received. I am grateful for the wise advice of my patron and I will get to the bottom of this toe ring that I carry. My destiny will lead me to Goblin Town. For now, we go north. and maybe our paths will lead me to the goblins of Mount Gundabad. I wish to know more of my parent’s past.
Radagast bids us on another quest. We head towards the Grey Hills that are north of Mirkwood. We are not to go to directly to Carn Dum. We must find new allies in the Wild Men of Rhudaur. They will not accept us as friends and so we must walk into danger. Our path may take us past Beorn’s lands. With a letter of introduction, we should be able to obtain horses to take honey, honey cakes, shire ale, tools and fine wood to barter for the good will of the wild men. descendants of Rohirrim. . We must find the furs of wolves to return to Bearuwyn, who is a fine woman. I hope the medallion depicting horses will also bring good will.
The thought of Gitsere’s treasure now weighs on my mind. I must find ways to gain the King’s favor so that Mair can be mine one day. I will find those strong iron bound doors in some underground cavern. This I must do.
Our trip first passed through the Old Ford and the Brandybucks. It is a pleasure to see our friends and happy to get more shire pipe weed and mead. These will be good to take north and more furs are to be returned. Meeting Ennalda outside the inn was fortunate as we traveled to Beorn’s home safely.
On our journey to Beorn’s home, It was surprising to hear that Petra was no longer with our friend Baldac. This calls for some special attention from Throrr else Baldac will never get his bride. It will take some Throrr magic to save the day. The introduction to Beorn was uncomfortable. I thought he would thump me good. His love of dwarfs needed mending. Our mentioning of Gandalf helped to win him to our side. Beorn was magnanimous in giving us ponies to take north alone with his special honey cakes.
Our progress North went well on the ponies. My thoughts traveled back often to our ride North from Erebor on me precious goats. They carried us well and hopefully they returned home safe. Tis good to travel and see the world, even when it turns bleak and grey. One night, our camp was met by a haggard warrior named Faranour Farmin, the March Warden. He rode into camp on a stout mountain horse. I hung onto each word that he spoke. The woman amongst the mutants who foretold of our future. A fair-haired and fair-skinned woman who believes our mission will fail or succeed in an amazing fashion. I have no doubt that we will succeed. I must have faith in our fellowship. Was he really a ghost or a mirage? He looked so old and he mentioned his homeland in the Dale. He took us to a watchtower and faded into the light of the dawn. A touch of the shadow lifted from us and our destiny awaits.