I couldn't scrape a nap out o' the Elvish ruins I were perched beneath so I got up I trudged on, wet boots an' all, the rain wouldn't stop and the wind would've whipped me whiskers if I had any. Rain all day with showers in betwixt!
It were slow going and I'd had just about enough, maybe I should've kept on but I decided to shelter at the old King's Way Gate until the weather turned.
Dogs and cats? Dogs, cats, and ruddy horses as far's I could tell!
I'd dried off a nudge under the cliff, but needed to press on. Slippery work getting back down the hill, but I got back on the road and headed for the King's Gate. "The Royal Road" they used to call it. Now it's more of a Royal Pain, it's so bleedin' uneven. I spose it were a lot smoother back when they made it.
I woke up to a thunderin' storm and plenty of miles to cover, but one river at a time as they say. I hadn't slept too well as there were rats a-plenty making all kinds of racket.
Bevan at the gate told me the town were worried about more yrch from the south, 'pparently been havin' a spot o' bother wi' raiders. No mind for me, I were heading east. I stopped in to Skardí's anyways, and sharpened me blade just in case.
Funny thing about the Stonecrop camp, it's not named for the rocky outcrops thereabouts, there's a chap trades there by the name o' Burl... Stonecrop!
I waited 'til dark in camp, had a spot o' grub, listened to young Ged play his lute, warmed me bones by the fire - knowin' I'd needs must wade through the Greyflood in the chill o' night. Wet boots again of course.
https://video.infosec.exchange/w/n7FotviBGa2tJUSXWJk9AJ
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Brenin Crus