The notebook is small, it fits in one hand and is about 2cm thick. The cover is a deep blue colour and has a very simple engraved boarder of thin swirling lines. All of the corners have been beaten up in some way or another, one corner was just wrinkled while the other three where bent up in some way or another as well as the pages, they where so old they had become off-coloured, stains where on some pages while others had small rips around the edges and where also folded over like they had been crushed up against something heavy.

The first entry is extremely old, the ink used to write it is fading and smudged in some places, the handwriting is shaky and lots of the same letters look different, like somebody trying to mimic another's handwriting;

'I miss mom... There's nobody I can talk to, so, I guess I'm talking, or, writing to myself. But I do, I miss her, and at the same time there is so

much that I can't remember about her, even her face is fading from my memory. I remember her smell, it reminds me of Pine, but not exactly.

She always used to smell so pretty but I'm not sure what she actually smelt of, I'll have to find out. She had a hair colour like mine, but hers

was always silky, smooth, not like my mess, that must be a trait of my father. Not that I'll ever find out who he is, why would anybody admit

being my father after all. I'm just a half-bred stain on society.'

There are several other entries that all talk about Tahlaia's mother, only once referenced by name as 'Taria'. Her father is never again mentioned, nor is her half-breed status. There are more notes about her mother, memories about her childhood and also comments on other's that she stayed with for a time. The villages and the towns she visited.

The next significant entry is a number of years later, it specifies on the beginning of her training with a bow and knives, the handwriting is slowly rectifying itself, it's forming it's own unique style;

'For the first time in my life I feel protected, the farm is nice, the work is hard and it takes a lot of time to finish it but I get fed and to sleep

with a roof over my head that doesn't leak... Too much. Better than that, I'm learning to use swords, well... Short ones to be more specific.

The normal sized swords are too big and clunky to swing around. Eric is helping me, he's trying to get into the town's guard and I think he

will... Eventually. The nightmares aren't so bad anymore, I don't have them as often but they still scare me awake when I do have them.

I'm learning to use a bow as well, I think I'm better with it. I don't know why, it just feels right to use it and it turns out I've got a good eye

as well. I shot down a deer the other day, it was sleeping but that's not the point. I'm starting to feel a little less like a random strangler and

more like I know who I am... Maybe that's just the crazy talking or I am actually finding my feet.'

There is a chart with animals scribbled on one side, on the other is a tally, Tahlaia is writing down how many kills she's had with the bow and arrow, there is another entry below;

'Eric got accepted into the guard... I'm happy for him but, I'm lonely, it's like he's completely disappeared from the farm and with Rose's

passing, it seems so empty, I'm thinking of leaving, this place isn't what it used to be anymore, it's sad, it reminds me of mom. I think he'll

understand why I want to leave... I hope he does.'

There isn't another entry for almost a year, there is however a new larger tally chart that covers the entirety of one page and has different species of animals. There are also sketches across several pages with the species of the animals written below them, sometimes there's a little bit of colour added to their design as well;

'I left, eventually, decided that I was going to try and make it on my own this time, I couldn't stay there forever, not when there's so much

more of the world I can go and explore. I've been getting around by selling furs, and whatever meat I have left when I reach towns and

villages, it gets me by easy enough. I haven't stopped anywhere long, they just don't feel right. I was thinking of going to the Elves, perhaps

they knew my mother, or at least something about her, then again the chances of any Elves knowing my mother is rare she didn't even know

where she came from herself.'

Several entries follow this one and speak of towns she's stayed at, people she remembers and stories that they told, real or not she isn't so sure but she keeps them written down anyway. These several entries span years and sometimes its a number of years between entries but between them there are always sketches, this time not limited to game but scenery, she talks of going to Bree, it seems like a good place to blend in with a range of creatures inhabiting the town. But for now she's too far to get straight there, she speaks of saving enough coin to make a straight run for Bree.

The next interesting entry talks of the Elves, her people, or some of them at least, and the idea of going to them, the handwriting has adapted over the years and has now truly taken to it's own style;

'The idea is stuck in my head, going to the Elves... I don't know why but it is. Which Elves? All of them if I can, or at least the three colonies

of Elves that I know about. I don't hold out much hope for Rivendell, it's too far from where mother and I lived when she died. when I was

with her. I can't hold out too much hope for any of them, they might not even remember she was part of their group. I might never find out

about her.'

It is again a year or two of small entries about game and small villages she's been to before there is another interesting entry again about Elves, however, the page is smudged and the ink is hard to read in some places like it was disturbed before it could dry;

'It's no use going, they won't know. It was a stupid idea to begin with. Besides who knows how many Taria's there could be in the world.

I'm not going and that's it, wherever my mother came from, whatever her traditions where it's lost now and I won't find it with the Elves.'

Weeks turn into months and there are no entries, there seem to have been entries that where one there however the pages have been ripped from the book. The next entry that has not been destroyed is nearly a year later;

'I'm heading to Bree now, or at least I hope I'm heading in that direction, I'm with a caravan of merchants heading in that direction but I'll

have to split with them eventually, they aren't going all the way there. I'm sure it's not too hard to get there, it's decently well known town,

or so I've been told. Perhaps I can find more work there, if it's the right place, then again, I don't actually know what the right place is, I'm

still searching for it, even if I don't know what sort of image I have in my head, I have a feeling, a feeling that I'll know when I come across it.'

It's a couple of weeks before there is another text entry, however there are more sketches of the mountains that turn into rolling hills, flowers and herbs that look like they have medicinal purposes, there are some names of these plants scribbled underneath;

'I missed out Bree, completely. I ended up in a place called The Shire. There are people here shorter than me! They call themselves Hobbits,

I've heard of Hobbit's before but I never really expected this, they drink, a lot, and they smoke even more but overall they are jolly fellows

and where only too keep to buy my furs and meats off me. Once they knew I wasn't here to eat them, only the Gods know why they though

that in the first place. It's a nice place, but, I don't really fit in here, being a head taller than all of them after all, apparently there is a road to

Bree from here, so I shouldn't get lost when I decide to move on, but for now, well, might as well make the most of the money coming in.'

Her next entries talk more of the Hobbits and their way of life, there are even one or two sketches of Hobbiton. She speaks of leaving and finally making her way to Bree, while in the Shire she hears of Erebor, how it's been reclaimed by the rightful King Thorin Oakenshield, her next text is about it;

'Erebor. It sounds a little grand doesn't it? I was told it used to be the greatest of the Dwarrow outposts. Until a fire breathing dragon moved

in. But now with the Dragon dead everybody seems to be flocking to the great Kingdom of the Dwarves. I want to go, for some strange reason

I feel pulled toward it. I think I should, Bree wasn't as much as I had hoped and while I can get by on what I sell here, it's not like living on the

open road ready to go somewhere new. I guess my head has already decided that I'm going to go there, I have business I need to finish up on

here in Bree, then I'll be on my merry way I guess, one of the Hobbits spoke fondly of it, I asked if he wanted to join me, he respectfully declined

and we parted ways but I would very much like to go back to the Shire, a peaceful place in a very busy one.'

To be continued;