The Campfire

Good morning! You are welcome to a cup of coffee. The fire was low but not out.

The Bard was up late and quite a few Forest People chanted and sang at the Campfire. 

The king sent several soldiers this morning. He has ordered me to familiarize them with the area and put them on the work roster. They escorted in several wheeled carts with supplies. Something is going on that is bigger than taking convicts out of the community.

Northwich was a village prior to my arrival. There were places that the trees and stumps had been removed to plant crops. We planted squash and pumpkin this year. Winter wheat and garlic will be planted soon.

There are unruly grapevines and a few apple trees. These are a project and not a reliable source of food. Perhaps I can send for a cider press to process the apples.

Living out here on the frontier is changing me. I am not as worried about the politics of the Kingdom. While I am a Freedman, it is not without its obligations. 

Author: The Storyteller

Don't count the lions. It will make you afraid and slow you down.

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