Letters of a Madman, Vol. I

[Lucidity]

Stepped from that wretched boat, did I, into a most unglorious spectacle.


This pitiful excuse for a city; this decaying harbor; this.. baleful opportunity.
Unfortunate, I must say, the circumstances leading to this. It's not as though I wanted to kill him. I told him to remain still.

Pleasurable, I will remember the experience as, but those are days long past. Oh, how I reminesce too easily. To keep one's mind in the clouds in a foreign place is to invite death, Veldrane. Please do well to remember.
__________

My envisioning has become an unfortunate truth. Here I sit, amongst the downtrodden and destitute, making my entry. On both sides in this.. place.. this.. 'Port Aventhyr'.. the poor line the alleyways as far as the eye can see. How disgusting their faces, devoid of hope and nutrition.

This cannot be my future here! I will not allow it!

Surely attaining lucre in this land must be easier than it seems. For the past two days, I've kept my eye on a particular noble who tallies the streets on the night's eve. Street concealment, surprisingly (thank Mask!) is easier here than back in Baldur's Gate.

My dearest friend, I hope to enter into you a tale of utmost courage and victory - for now, I must make my eyes upon this city!

Shadows conceal us all,
-VR

[Lucidity]

Oh dear friend, I am upon much lament.

It would seem the fates and gods above (and below!) Toril conspire against me.. I came to this place for escape, for opportunity! Not to toil about a day-after-day workload which would be of a horse's size, only to be paid the wage of a serf! I say no! I refuse!
______

Well, the opportunity did come. Though not what I desired. If mine mind could speak, I think it would say this:

"My dearest Veldrane, I wonder why you involve yourself in such things. A mercenary?! Surely there are better things than risking your life to goblin hordes."



Indeed, good mind, indeed!


.. but the reward is oh so sweet.
_______

Dearest friend, have you heard?

The Legion presence here commended me for slaughtering those fetid beasts. No longer do lawful men of steel shout cursing accusations, but regard me with compliment.

How trite. I do not much appreciate the candor of sycophants. Dearest friend, as I write unto you now, I recall that very moment looking into his eyes, accepting that meager 'reward'.


Someday, dearest friend, we shall have our due.

Bastards.

-VR