Rieka the Red

OOC

RPG Switch!

That is all.

This city is changing, I have noticed, and I feel that I may soon leave it for other places. Minas Tirith is very beautiful, but I grow weary of staying in one place. I have been here many months now. I think that this is enough time. Perhaps within the next week or so, I will ride out. I would not mind seeing some new scenery.

It is a very interesting place. In fact, some parts of it still amaze me. I do enjoy walking along the outer walls. You can see much from them. The surrounding countryside soon grows wild, and the large fields stay silent. It is almost as if they remember the battle that took place just before I arrived in this place. But I do not know how that would be possible. Unless, of course, Aule has something to do with that. He did work with much of the earth; The rocks and the dirt and the metal, if my memory serves me.

It does seem to fade at times. It becomes hard to remember Valinor, but it is even harder to remember what happened before I came here. I know there was a delay, but I cannot remember why. Perhaps one day I will discover the secrets that have been locked away. Perhaps one day i will remember. It is almost as if I had gone to sleep. But that seems odd and I doubt it is the true explanation.

Hmmm.

I should go to the library of this city. I am sure that it will be best to head North, but I would like to know which lands await me there. I have not travelled much since coming here, but I am going to start.

Or maybe I should just not look and go wherever my horse will take me.

I think that I should think on it more.

And I also think that it is getting late, and I should soon get some rest for the night. Even an istar needs rest, afterall. We are not as strong as the Valar.

But before I stop writing, I should point out the increase in guards I've seen lately. I must say that is bothers me. You can feel that it bothers the citizens of this place too. To me, it seems like it is causing unnecessary worry. If there is trouble coming, maybe the King should tell the people. It would be better than letting them make up their own reason for why there are more guards.

The general populace seems to be on edge with more guards. It does not seem like a wise choice to me. There is an energy running through the people. It is hard to tell whether it will work for good or bad.

I met a man by the name of Beregond not too long ago. I was sitting just inside the city gates.

It's a very interesting place, the main gates. You see so many people around there. I rather like to sit there and think and watch all of the interesting people come through.

But the day I met Beregond, one of them actually came up to me, and I'm sure that it is obvious who it was.

He's a man of Gondor, though I believe he was working with Faramir last. I'm afraid my memory fails me a little, but I was preoccupied with some other odd things I've seen lately.

I cannot help but feel that something is not right in the city, though I cannot place my finger on what it is.

Hmm. I will have to think on it. I think I'm going to go out to the gardens of the city.

Enough writing for now.

Hmmm...

A strange storm has come over the city. Darkness plagues every corner, and even the light of my staff can do little. I do not like this storm. Something about it feels... wrong.

I have still been spending my time among the people here, but I think I will be leaving Minas Tirith soon, perhaps after some more study in the records.

The children seem upset by this storm too. I think they are more suceptable to strange things that the older beings of the race of Men. I wonder if I should look deeper into it. I fear that some evil is at work, but I cannot tell what it is.

it has been so long since I have faced evil. I wish that I could find Gandalf, as he has more experience in the matter, but his whereabouts are unknown at this time. I guess I am left to search at this alone then. I must try to meet some of the more influential people of this place soon. They may have more information than I could gather alone.

Either way, I should stop wasting my time by writing in this I have work to do.

I'm afraid I have not been doing much as of late. I have been mostly thinking to myself and watching things from a bit of a distance.

To tell the truth, I am becoming worried about Middle Earth. I fear that evil has not left this place yet. I doubt this is my mind playing tricks on me, so I worry. Those who were here tell me the ring was destroyed, and with it, Sauron was also destroyed. According to the tale, the two were connected so deeply that to destroy the ring was to destroy Sauron. And the ring, they say, was destroyed. But if that is so, where does this evil come from? Was there a loophole in the master plan? Could evil have somehow survived? Or have the creatures of Middle Earth been so tainted that they are no longer good?

I doubt that Iluvutar would allow the last option to be true. So I'm afraid I can only think that there is still evil lurking somewhere.

Rats are more abundant now than when I first entered the White City, as some call it. They run in swarms in some of the more decrepit places. The children hunt them now. Food is still a bit scarce. I have heard of a family or two breeding a few rats to eat. This is not a healthy thing. Food must be found for these people. I am aware that much was destroyed by the forces of Sauron, but there must be something.

There seems to be tension where there should not me. Word travels quickly in this place, but I have seen it myself. Those who should be friends appear to be enemies. Elves are suspicious of Men and Men of Elves. Men are suspicious of Men. Elves are suspicious of Elves. Even the oldest alliances: those that bind the races, seem to be stretching thinner. Is this a natural occurance? It does not seem right in any way.

If places are becoming unclean, dangerous even, and old alliances are weakening, what can it mean? I cannot be sure, but I do know that it is unwise to be weak. Weakness leaves things open for an attack. By whom, I could not say.

Rieka sits with her back against a large fruit tree. She is out in the gardens, and the sun shines bright upon the city in its early morning brilliance. She can feel the dew - it dampens her robes as she sits - but she does not seem to mind it at all. He staff lays next to her on the grass. She seems content in every way. Except, of course, her scratching pen, which writes almost furiously in her journal.

I am afraid that this city is making me restless. Little has changed here in a while, and the places that intrest me lessen by the day. I can only occupy myself so much in the pubs and the market place. Other than that, only these gardens provide some calmness. I cannot say why, but I think I shall leave this city. There is more to see, and I know I will be drawn back to it, but within a month I may leave it for the time.

Many people are leaving, I have noticed. Today, I saw again the elf Galadriel. Her and some of her closest kin are returning to a place that is called Rivendell by many, I believe. It is one of the few elven realms left in Middle Earth.

The elves are fascinating people, as many of the creatures here. But the elves in particular raise above some of the others. Their skill surpasses that of many of the races in most of what they do. The strangest thing is not this. Some would say the strangest thing is that Eru holds the races at an equal level. I do not see how this is strange, though. The elves are skilled, yes, and blessed with life. Their culture is also fascinating. But men are equal to them. Men possess as will that elves do not. They are weak and many are unskilled, but they can survive. That raises them to the same level.

It would seem to me that all the intelligent creatures would have this same level in Eru's eyes, but I have not studied the dwarves. Perhaps their skill with the earth raises them, despite that Eru himeslf did not create them.

And what of these hobbits? They are exceptionally strong-willed creatures. They are content in their Shire, I believe they call it. But they do not produce much and I know few of them every travel or fight like the ones I have met. I have heard that Gandalf has an interest in the hobbits. Maybe I wil ask him.

I may have to travel to see these creatures one day, as I may travel to see the dwarves and elves, but I do not know what I will find. I do not really know what I will find anywhere. But it will be interesting to look.

For now, though, I still have things to learn from this city. I fear sometime is up. I can sense something in the way the city acts and feels. it is too faint, though. I do not know what lies beneath it all. Perhaps I am imagining it. We will have to wait and see, though.

Placing her pen down between the pages on her journal, Rieka leans back, watching a bird which just flew into the branches above her.

I attended a party the other night. It was held in a great hall, decorated especially for the occasion.The decorations were very interesting, though it seems to me that someone else may have arranged the party. Froim what i have heard and read of the King's past, he does not seem to be one who would enjoy too many fancy things. He seems simple, though he cannot be with his background. Though I have never met him, what I have read portrays him as taking pleasure in simpler things. It does not seem he would be one for too much decor.

A large host of guests was there. All invited by the King, Aragorn, I would assume, judging from the people who were there. I spent much of my time watching, but I did meet a few new people.

The first I met was Miriel. She is one of those who has been brought back from beyond the grave. Unlike most, she is human, though. I am not sure which of the Valar had a hand in bringing all these great leaders and heroes back, but if I did, I would be sure to inquire as to why. But then I have to stop and think. Perhaps it was Eru. I could see him doing this sort of thing. From what I remember of him, it would be to his taste and care. Miriel was the last Queen of the Numenoreans. I was not involved too much in the dealings with the Elves and Men back when Numenor was powerful. I was occupied in Valinor elsewhere. I would have liked to be, though. Now that I am among these other races, they fascinate me.

Others I spoke to were some of the Hobbits who helped with the mission against the forces of Darkness in the age that just passed out of being. They were interesting, as were their songs. They sung these songs upon tables, which made it interesting to watch. It also brought them to a higher level. It is a strange day when a Hobbit can look over you, but I wonder if being on the tables had a double motive.

One of the Hobbits, Pippin, seemed as skepticle of the food as I was. I am afraid I am not used to food of the sort that was served at the Party. Again, I do not think it was the choice of the King, for he appeared uncomforatble with it too. The soup was a greyish color, and was served "chilled." I chose to heat mine, and it improved the taste immensely. I am glad to say that it did not taste as bad as it looked. I did not bother trying what we got next. I am not sure what it was, but the main course was excellent. There were foods from all around, and many different kinds. I think the rest of the people there enjoyed the main course as well. It was much more like the food I was used to.

Unfortunately, I had to leave early, but I am glad I did not miss the King's speach, for that was very good. I wish I had not had to leave, but I promised the child who taught me to juggle that I would give him his night light tonight, and I would not miss that unless I absolutely had to.

Much goes on in this city, though I often find I have little to do. I have taken to wandering and watching much more that is probably good for me. I spend my days searching fo something, though I do not know what it is. I find the greatest joy in the children, for they look at things without the complexities that the world of the adults seems to have. In looking, they are quicker to find the simplest answer, but no one seems to listen, and I feel all of their knowledge is lost as they grow. They gain some of it when they are old, but in these times, I fear that not all will reach an age old enough.

I did learn something interesting the other day, though. One little girl, who had escaped from her chores, I think, (she would not tell me) taugh me to juggle. Without much aid of my magic, I find I am getting better at this trick, and I think ti will be usefull as a defensive mesure. I do not know why, but I enjoy the challenge of it.

But all things are not so simple, and the happenings around me worrk me a bit. There are many who have taken to drowning their troubles in alcohol. I do not quite understand the logic in this, as the drink generally slows them down and some complain of a sickness to accompany it. I have never done it, though, so who am I to judge such a think. Still, it seems to be counterproductive when that is all they are doing. So many great leaders have come to this place, yet few of them are actually choosing to lead. This bothers me.

Among the visitors to this city are the Noldor, though their buisiness worries me also. Some of them are wanted by those who run the city. I think they are planning to take back Middle Earth. One that I talked to seemed pessimistic about this Middle Earth. I wish there was something I could do to change this. Can they not see that the kingdoms of elves and the kingdoms of men can co-exist? If they made the effort, there could be peace. There should be peace among the free peoples of Middle Earth.

If there is no peace, they leave it open for those like Sauron, who wish only to spread their darkness and remove the freedom. Elves, men, dwarves, hobbits, and all other creatures should work together. It would be beneficial to all.

Sitting down for her lunch, Rieka begins to write. Her gaze is distant, for she is lacking sleep and deep in thought.

Taverns are wonderful places to meet people. Last night alone, I was at a table conversing with many important people. Among them, Gandalf (as he is now known), Boromir, Miriel, Eowyn, and others. The conversation has left me deep in thought, and I lack sleep today because of it.

We were discussing why so many have come back to Middle Earth that were once removed from Arda. So many "heroes" of the ancient lore have appeared in this city. It is mind-boggling in a way, and my mind has been taken up with the idea ever since.

Some think that by bringing them all back to life, reparations are being made to the power lost when the One Ring was destroyed. Others think that they may be here to guide Middle Earth in a safe direction, and move towards peace after the reconstruction. But no one knows for sure. None of us who have come to this place recently seem to have a purpose as of now. Everyone is searching but all the answers are locked away and the secrets to their discovery have long been lost.

Boromir seems to be in a state of despair, and few are less lost than he. In truth, we are all wandering and wondering what is to happen to us. It seems even the great leaders and warriors who have come to Middle Earth in recent times need guidance. But who can a leader look for to help them?

I think I want to dicuss this with Olorin a bit more, and I will have to make time for that in the next week, but that can wait for now. Still, perhaps we should exercise what little power we gain from being Istari to help guide those who have come back to Middle Earth. I am sure that if they were to all work towards organizing, rebuilding, leading, and fighting against the darkness as they were born to, Middle Earth would recover much more quickly.

The past week or so has been spent in recovery of the party I attended. I still continued to light the streets, but that was all I felt well enough to do for the time. I don't really remember what happened after we got lost in the tunnels, or how I got back to this inn I am staying in, but I think that these things are not important right now.

Still, the presence of evil can still be seen in the city. It's appearance is slow, as if it's waiting for something. I could not say what it is waiting for, though. Perhaps it waits on the return of Aragorn. Talk among the commoners is that he's been so busy that he cannot afford the time to be seen out and about, but my suspicion is that he is not in the castle. Maybe he went on a vacation of sorts, but it is a bad time, and I doubt he would leave his people so venuerable.

It worries me that none of the people I have talked to about it have seen him, though. Hopefully, he will show his face soon. More must be done about the dangers to this city, before the people notice and there is even more trouble on his hands.

Trouble from those who reside in Gondor would only break this place. Broken, it can do nothing but fail and the darkness may rise again.

As the sun begins to set, the red-cloaked woman, now known of a bit more than before, begins to travel the streets. Unlike her wanderings at other times of day, this travel is methodical. Starting at the outer gate, she follows a street to her left. Her pace is even as she walks, and she looks at nothing... and no one. This walk is buisiness. She pauses momentarily to tap her staff when she reaches a lamp post. It lights, a bright fire illuminating the surrounding area. She continues to walk on, doing the same at every light, until she reaches the end of the road.

Here, she takes another street, repeating the same process as was done on the street before. She does the same on the next street; and again on the next, and again, and again, and again, and again. She is silent the whole time, but ever-watchfull. Rats that pass her are thrown against walls with barely a flick of her staff. Some of the children still out at night find this ammusing, but she ignores it all, continueing to light the lamps.

Nothing slows her pace. Not people. Not fights. Not even the growing crowd of children behind her. You would think they would gety bored of it. She has done the same for nearly a week now after offering her services to the city in a conversation with Faramir. But they, like her, do not tire of it all. For her it is a duty. Something that must be done until she can get the right things for the magic to work on its own. For them, it is fun and games, but still, they are ignored.

Still weaving through the streets, nothing changes besides the ever-growing crowd. Even when she is almost done, she persists as if she will never stop, or had never started. It seems that it has always been, such is her manner of doing it. But by the time she reaches that small inn by the stables, her path has taken her down every street in the city. Every lamp was lit and darkness had finally fallen. She took just enough time, so that none would be left in the dark. Were the people modern, they would have called her a machine, but the people of Middle Earth have no concept of such things.

Finished her work, Rieka proceeds to enter the inn, leaving the followers behind her. They dare not come in. The first time they had tried, but after some harsh words from the innkeeper, they never even crossed the street. She becomes more relaxed as the heat of the inn's fire bombards her senses, and after a bit of juggling (one of the only ways she had convinced the innkeeper to let her stay without paying) she takes a seat at her usual table in the corner, close, but not too close to the raging fire.

Here, she eats her daily dinner...

I really should write in this more often, but I have been a bit less idle as of late. It would seem that word of my existence has gotten around a bit. About a week ago, though I am not sure of the exact day, I ran into a man called Faramir. From my readings, I know that he is the second son of the previous Steward of Gondor. He had heard about me from somewhere, and had come to seek my advice on the dangers that this place now faces.

I must admit I had been worried about these. From talking to the children of the city, I learn much. Rats are showing up in increasing numbers. My first thought was to leave out poisoned bread, but food is scarce, so I suggested to try cats. They may be able to help, though I'm not sure how much.

In talking to him, I volunteered to help light the streets. Every night, I go out as the sun begins to lower in the sky. By the time I am done, it is gone, but the darkness does not set in as wholly as it should. I light the street lamps, using no fuel. That is needed elsewhere, and the simple magic is a small thing I can do. The extra light should make the streets a bit safer.

The wraith also bothers me. He wanders the streets in the form of a man, I have heard. I know that wraiths fear fire, but I wish I knew how to destroy one. As far as Faramir knows, even Eowyn, who I was told defeated a wraith, does not know how to do it. My theory is that you must show yourself stronget than the wraith, and willing to give up more, but it is just a theory, and it would not be wise to hold any theory as truth. In all honesty, I do not know enough about the wraiths to know how to destory them. Perhaps I should read more on what happened to them. With any luck, the records and the library of the city will have something, but it may not be so.

I've also heard that the orcs are out roaming. Orcs are evil to all but the very core of their existence, for once they were not as they are now, but there is no reaching that small pice of the past that may be left. The orcs will show no mercy to the people of Gondor. Next time I see Faramir, I should tell him that outer-lying villiages and farms are in harms way, though I have no doubt he knows this. Still, some effort should be put into fortifying those areas as well, especially what's left of farm lands. And fi they do that, they might as well work on Minas Tirith too. Magnificent it is, but you can see the signs of decay. They should convince the people to work to make everything better. People have grown. Let their cities grow too, since that is what they will remember.

But first, the effort should be made to make things safe. Safety above all else. Dark times have not passed, but you can see the sun beginning to rise.

Standing and placing the journal back into her pocket, Rieka walks towards the stairs that lead up to her room.

New faces...

Sitting out in a garden she found, Rieka sits beneath the shade of a tree. Her pen moves quickly, but the writing is still legible. She knows not whose garden this is, or if it belongs to the public, but she hopes no one will not mind.

I have met several new people in recent times. It is interesting to see the people, and even more interesting when you actually talk to them for a short while. You'd be surprised of the types you meet along the way.

One of the more interesting people I met was an elf by the name of Fingon. I traveled up to a high place in the city, so that I could look down upon it and see the surrounding lands. But when I reached the top I found that I was not alone in my escape from the heart of the city. We talked only breifly, but the name sounds familiar. Almost as if I had heard it before.

Another I met was one by the name of Miriel. It was rain heavily the other night, and after taking shelter for a little while, I had decided not to wait any longer. Lighting up my staff with a flame, I stepped out in the flame. Apparently Miriel had heard of such things before and was intrigued by the simple magic I had performed. She, like me, is all alone here and fairly lost. I am not lost anymore, but I sympathize with her plight.

The third I met recently was Goldberry. I accidentally ran into her the other day by the stables. She is from somewhere to the north. I found her antics a little ammusing, though I think she hasn't been away from where she lives for long before. It should do her a little good to get out. She is not human, I believe she is born of some higher power, though I do not know what. She found that I was an Istar interesting.

Apparently, my suspicions were correct. I have not been mentioned, and if I ever was, I have long since been forgotten. But it does not bother me. It gives me a chance to come here without a reputation of any sort, and that should play to my advantage.

Stopping, Rieka places the pen and the journal back into her pocket. She leans back against the tree a little, just looking up at the sky. "It's a nice day."

Rieka stands alone, looking out to what lies beyond the White City. She has been up since sunrise, and spent the morning trying to find her way to the highest point of the city that she could reach. Looking out now, she can see off to the land of Mordor, silent for the time since its master's fall. She can see what remains of the great battle feild also, but she does not look there. Instead, she turns her head to two places: those lands that are far off, and those that are close.

The city is, for the most part, awake now. From above, she can hear the murmer of people. They are buying their food and trying to get back to their daily lives. Some are still recovering from the festivities of the coronation, but most are trying to move on. It is evident in the way they move.

Her gaze lingers lingers in the distance, but not for too long. For a little more, she will concentrate on the city, but time will tell how long she will stay.

"It may not be long..." she utters the words quietly, half to herself.

I've have spent much time exploring the city in recent days. I find the place facinating. There are so many races and people, and they are all unified. It's amazing. I have heard it was not so before the War. But I watch these inhabitants, and I see not what people speak of. I see no divisions among them. The are all one. A great people of Middle Earth, reguardless of race or class. If what people say is true, than darkness seems to heal as much as it hurts, and that is a strange paradox.

The other day, I met the one who saved this world. I had a short talk with the hobbit Frodo, who I nearly ran into as I manuevered around the crowds. He is resting in Minas Tirith, and awaiting the healing of his brave hobbit friends. he hopes to go home. You can see his quest took much from him. He holds one of his arms close to him, protectively. I am sure he hurt it, or perhaps this was where is anywhere he wore the great ring. I hope that he recovers. His quest was a noble one, and he did well, even if he thinks no one will remember his deeds. I hope they do. It's a great thing he has done for these people.

I will write more later. They are serving food in the inn, and I wish to eat before I head out into the city. Perhaps I will go and look out from the top of the walls today. That would be interesting.

The White City

I went out to explorea bit today. The city itself is very beatiful, ancient in its majesty and splendor. The people are proud and brave, despite the recent war. Most of the cities efforts seem to be turning towards getting back to life along with celebrations here and there. Many people are smiling, but many more are crying. It saddens me to see this, but I can already see the citry as a whole on a path to greater things.

I followed one of the soldiers to the house of a woman today. She stood outside the door, with a little girl of six clinging to her side. Another child was on the way, but none of that mattered when she saw who it was that was at the door. I felt bad for the soldier. In a calm, steady voice, he delivered his message. Her husband had died, valiently, in the service of Gondor. She broke down into tears, and the little girl just clung to her, worried imensely because her mother was crying. Even after the soldier left, she stood there, unable to move or stop crying. The girl didn't move either.

That is, she didn't move until she saw me watching them. At this point, of course, the little girl came over to me. She was intrigued by my odd clothing. Bright red robes aren't exactly the fashion. I greeted the girl and brought her back to her mother, who asked me if I was like Gandalf. How she knew of him is beyond me, but I told her the truth: That I was of the same race as Gandalf. She was still crying, though and I wish there was something I could have done for her. But I'm afraid the power to heal wounds of that sort is beyond me. She invited me to stay for a while, but I declined. I thanked her for the offer, and gave her a globe of fire for her kindness. it will keep her house warm when she needs it so she can put money towards food.

She saddened me, but I feel the woman will be fine. Despite her sadness, she still thought to offer me in. If the rest of the people here are like her, then this place is very strong.

After that strange incident, I lookedc around more. I think I am going to go visit the wounded or the more powerful people of this place. I want to know more of what is going on.

Rieka closes her diary, placing it in the pocket of her robes. She pays the innkeeper for her meal and leaves her table in the corner. She steps out on to the street, looking up at the brilliant sun, which warms her face. She moves through thr crowds, attracking a few strange looks, but most barely give her a passing glance. She takes a path towards both the healing rooms and the inner city.

As she walks, Rieka decides to go to the healing houses first.

The night...

Under the cover of darkness a lone rider speeds out towards the empty battlefeilds which lie between Mordor and Gondor. She slows almost too a halt near the center, pausing to look around quickly before she allows her large black horse to walk slowly over the ground. Her clothing, which looks a deep red, almost maroon in the pale light flows behind her slightly. It's the only thing affected by the soft breeze which moves opposite as she.

As she looks around, she notices the signs of the great battle which happened in this place not long before. The smell of ashes still lingers. It is all that remains of the fallen forces of evil. Men, orcs, wolves, even wraiths... Many were lost to the place. She stops momentarily, between two large mounds. There are others like them, dotting the great feild here and there. The rider bows her head and tips her large hat as she does so. These were the graves of free men. Mass graves, with just enough ceremony to settle their souls, and just enough speed to keep disease from spreading among the fallen carcasses. There were many here. It was a great loss of life. She could see that even after the fact.

Turning quickly at a noise, she decides it is not wise to stay here any longer. The rider removes a large staff from the side of her saddle and sets off at a fast gallop, heading towards the city of Gondor. Once there, she takes rest in a small inn, which, she has noticed, houses many men from other places. Wanting to avoid too much attention, she goes in through the back, securing herself a room that's high up, in a place with few occupants still.

She retires to her room quickly and lights a candle. She removes a book from her pocket and begins to write.

I have reached Gondor, and I see that they have defeated the darkness. I rode along the battlefeild tonight. Much life was lost, and it pains me to see it so, even though I did not know anyone or spend much time in Middle Earth. It must hurt Era and the Vala too. So many of their creations are lost in battles such as this, but at least the darkness was defeated.

I suppose I should detail some of how I came here, but I will be vague. It is not something everyone needs to know, and I do not know who may be reading this.

It started many years ago. Eru chose among the Istari three to go, but three more ended up joining the party. I was the last, and they did not really know about me until halfway there. Rieka the Red was not supposed to go. I'll admit that I went without being asked, but the lure of Middle Earth was too great at the time. It would seem that I was wrong, though, and not meant to go with the others of my race. I got... sidetracked shortly after they discovered I had joined them and have been elsewhere until now.

I finally make it here, only to witness the receding of a great darkness. Sauron must have risen again, I can tell from the look and feel of it all. My curiosity was sparked, and I rode with all haste here, to Gondor. Now that I am in Gondor, I see the great toll that the war has taken. Sauron was a mistake. He should never have been created. But I guess there was a plan involved, and at least all worked out. The people here are free.

I am gladd this is so. Had Sauron won here, I would have been left without a place to explore. Now, I have a whole free place to look at. Still, the effect of the aftermath could cause more trouble before peace settles in. Perhaps I can help with that. A little magic can cheer people up if used the correct way, but I will think about that later.

Soon, I will come out of hiding in this inn, and I will find out what is going on now. But that is something for another day. I should rest first.

Rieka closes the book, placing it back inside her robes. Standing, she picks up her staff and leaves the room. She goes down the back stairs to stop in the kitchen for a bit of food.