Elwynn is getting too crowded. Too many hopefuls fighting over the same scraps. The coin from SI:7 lasted a while, but it’s starting to thin out again. Word is Westfall has work for those willing to get their hands dirty. Fewer people. More desperate landowners. Sounds like my kind of place.
The walk west was longer than I remembered. The land changes quickly once you pass the border, fields that used to be golden are now dry and overgrown. Burned farmhouses dot the landscape like broken teeth. You can almost taste the anger in the air.
Stopped at a rundown farmhouse yesterday. An old farmer and his daughter were kind enough to share what little stew they had. They spoke bitterly about the Defias, how good, honest folk got pushed into banditry just to survive. The girl looked at me like I might be one of them. Couldn’t really blame her.
I didn’t say much. Just listened.
Part of me understands them. Another part remembers the coin in my pocket and the dagger at my side. SI:7 might not be saints, but they pay on time. I’m heading toward Sentinel Hill tomorrow. Supposedly there’s work there. Official work.
We’ll see how long that lasts.