The dusty boots of a rear guard

Mustering report in the lands of Bree. Fridgrim, 3rd son of Rudgarm, 31st Westfold Fyrd.

First my apologies for the late report. We have had many days and nights of hasty march. I record it is written in the annals of the great Grimbold's that a military force, even a small one as ours, is at great peril in foul lands unless an assigned rear guard watches it's back. I thank my Fyrd commander for assigning me this position under the rigid leadership of Lord Thérowan. As to not endanger the mission should this report be intercepted I can not tell much about our exact whereabouts but rest assure that our steps are filled with the enemys blood and that my sword arm get all the necessary training.

Although this said, my contribution to the lawful beheadings necessary for us to bear further on
is not always the best. This is partly due to the way rations. I do not fully remember Grimbold's words on this but a man with an empty stomach is but half a man when he wears his sword in battle. Also I would add that the pots of Bree land often have musky aromas and are full of ill tasting spices that turns your stomach over and back. Often are the times where you have to make a hasty excuse even in the best of companies. This I partly, well I would even say fully, blame on the small folks that run about and around here wherever you go, even sometimes they trip you over or lure you into lost paths are you not careful.

This is also where I fail the most as sometimes without will I abandon my post. In Bree town and also in the damp caverns where our mission leads I tend to lose direction and suddenly I find myself out of the way. I always try to be back at my post more soon than late but I feel that this is an area where I need to improve myself.

There is more to tell but it must, I forgive, wait until I have another opportunity to make good on my reporting duties.

Fridgrim.