[Child of the 7th Age]

Despite the eariness of the campsite and the incessant howling of the wolves, the company managed to make it through the night with no further incident. The companions took turns standing guard, and piled logs on the campfire to keep it blazing high and help ward off any of the threatening creatures. Once or twice, they could see a pair of burning eyes glaring at them from the base of the hill. But, when Elentari stood up, and waved a flaming torch in that direction, the culprits ran off howling into the night with their tails between their legs.

The next morning all were glad to leave that somber place and set out again on the roadway. They pushed their horses very hard, traveling with few stops for a solid ten hours and finally came to the steps of the Foresaken Inn, a miserable shell of a place that scarcely resembled an Inn. The beds were ridden with roaches and the food a poor assortment of stale bread and watered-down stew.

Still spirits were rising. From here, it would be a ride of no more than twenty miles to come to the Prancing Pony, a reputable establishment that stood in the center of Bree. Here, there would be warm hearty meals and flagons of ale for all.

Elentari roused the company early, and by mid-day they'd come to the outskirts of Bree. Usually, the merchants had their wares out on tables in the marketplace, and there were any number of shops open selling a variety of merchandise. Today, however, it was different. The shops were closed down tight, with wooden boards nailed on across the windows so that it was impossible even to see inside the buildings. Nowhere was there a single merchant to be seen upon the streets, not even a humble peddler.

Elentari scratched her head in confusion. She'd been to Bree any number of times. It had always looked to be a fairly open, prospering community. Only when they came to the Pony itself, were they given a hint of what had gone wrong. A large man approached them, with a sword slung over his hip, and several daggers sticking out of his boot. The look on his face was threatening, "Strangers, stop and hold. No one enters the Pony till they get past me." He glared over at the company. "You wouldn't happen to be the band of cut-throats and thieves who've been plaguing the road leading into Bree from the west?"

Elntari held up her papers from King Thrainduil and from Lord Elrond, which she always carried in her hip pocket. The guard stared at them for a long while. Finally convinced of their authenticity, he motioned the companions to come into the common room of the Inn,

"Can't be too careful, he confided to Elentari. "These brigands are dangerous men. I don't envy you traveling west. We've heard dire tales of folk kidnapped and beaten on the roads. You'd best spend the night and think about how you're going to defend yourselves against them. A few lucky folk get through without attack, but we've heard too many tales of others who had a less fortunate fate."

With that grim reminder in her ears, she arranged for rooms and hot meals for her companions, sitting down in the dining area and watching the people roam in and out.