Daily musings next to the fire by Boromir, son of Denethor Steward of Gondor on his way to Imladris, occurring in the time immediately preceding the events of the War of the Ring.
Week 7
Day 43
Even though I know that I abandoned Wilfred at the river, he seems to dog my steps. It seems that behind every tree is an orc, with Wilfred on its head to egg it on- I begin to fear that he will divulge my sleeping methods to the creatures. Of course, he could simply be trying to get back into my good graces by sending me food rations… I know not his intentions, but fear them all the same. I begin to wonder why I ever trusted that conniving helmet.
Day 44
Once again, I encountered multiple Orcs- but today, some were dead. Even worse was the times when I came across a clearing with only a single helmet sitting on the grass- Wilfred is taunting me. What have I done to ensure such hatred?
Oh, right.
I dropped him into the river.
Day 45
Crossed another river today- my camo tent has served me well yet again, for moments after alighting on the far bank, Orcs moved from the trees on the opposite side- they clearly searched for something, one of them probably having seen me earlier, but none saw me in my excellent camouflage. I begin to wonder if the multitude of Orcs is some device of Wilfred's, for I would swear that I did not encounter so many before befriending the evil thing.
Day 46
Yet more Orcs, now travelling in groups too large for me to kill alone. Upon reflection, this is probably the reason that people travel in groups- of course, they probably also move in groups to avoid that embarrassing moment when all your supplies are lost with your horse and you are forced to steal orc rations to survive, but that's neither here nor there.
Day 47
The trees are now close enough together for me to be able to travel completely above the ground- is this how the wood elves feel all the time? The Orcs below appear like ants, yet I move silently above- sweet Eru, the power trip is freaking amazing!
More disturbing, however, is the fact that from above, Wilfred stares at me every time the Orcs pass by- I feel watched constantly.
Am currently trying to decide between travel by trees or by ground- by tree, I avoid the orkish patrols but am also haunted by constant observation- all very troubling. I cannot help but wonder what lengths Wilfred will go to in order to revenge himself upon me.
Day 48
I have decided to walk upon the ground in the manner of Men- the elvish power trip was making all kinds of weird ideas appear in my head. Now that I walk, my mind clears and I am reminded of the more sensible results of this journey- finally, I can concentrate on Wilfred's threat and my ambitious plans for the Goncong.
Day 49
Yet another river crossing today, and while shivering in my usual nest up a tree, it occurs to me that Wilfred cannot be planning the things he does, for while he is an orkish helmet he is still a helmet- simply a piece of ill-forged metal. Finally I encounter a single orc and can refresh my supplies- my thoughts become more sane by the hour.
The Goncong are still a good idea, though.