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[The journal is heavy and worn leather, bound by interlocking, heavy metal chain laced with satin. The chains cross the length and width of the book, converging at the fulcrum to lock around a pendant in the shape of a several-pointed star accented by strange linear patterns. Within lies the collected thoughts, mindless ramblings, quickly jotted theories, and most invaluably, the composed metaphysical discourse of one Nicholas Dallowyn. His penmanship, while somewhat flowing and often composed of elven calligraphy, is controlled and concise. In several places, the flow of standard sentence structure is punctuated and broken by a sort of shorthand code, likely developed for use when writing long-script would be dangerous or simply inconvenient. Of note, the following entries bear the freshed of several vials worth of ink.]
Entry 1: Landfall
I have decided to foregoe the usual markings of this entry, dearest journal; I hope you don't mind. With the final arrival at these docks, a new chapter in our lives has come to fruition. A fresh land, home ot a fresh start - where one can fade invisibly into the sea of bodies and resume the semblance of a life, unmarred by the slander of others. Ah, it shall be quite a treat, methinks, though one that may not last long without the proper precautions. I'll have to be certain to keep to myself for a span of time before I go seeking out the fabled graves of the Sundren dead. The past weeks activity have been a whirlwind of action, highlighted by the wrath of the sea, so very much saltwater. I am, to be honest, glad to be through all of it. The sailors can keep churning of the sea to themselves and Umberlee, for I haven't the stomach for such things.
From what I gather, my first destination is but the trade port city, called Avanthyr. My destination lies inland further, landlocked and shrouded on the sides by the twin forests. This Sundren Valley is peculiar and I must confess the sense of adventure does overtake me as I look out now from the caravan that travels from the port. Surrounded by mountains, and carved into at one precise point, with the only entrances by careful sea navigation, or through a mighty gate guarded at all times. The founders would no doubt have been proud, if not beset on all sides by the indigenous life that did not take kindly to sharing their formerly secluded land. Lucky for me, unlucky for them.
But my mind wanders, does it not? I met a fellow arcanist on the boat ride here, and we shared some casual company. An elven woman of some years, if memory serves. She was... unique. She seemed to speak with bounded passion, though it was muted by something in her mind, in her mannerisms. Not very elven, not so aloof - save from the physical advances of the desperate men of that dingy boat. Yes, the exchanges were enough to keep my mind from the boredom of sea travel, and while worthwhile company can be rare, I seem to have found something of a gem.
Now, what was her name again? Ah, yes - Ladian Ebonwraith. She'll be heading to Sundren City, as well. Perhaps we shall run into each other again, and compare our travel spell books this time. One can hope, yes. A toast, dear journal, to new beginnings and a chance at a fresh start!
Entry 2 - exigo xchange
supplies; delivered 2 dwarves - suprise find [symbol] convinced :Perry Reddan:; Helm, hah!
crafted proper, will inspect l8r - dsign, xquisit - scrolls, scrolls, scrolls ; scribing
Entry 1: Landfall
I have decided to foregoe the usual markings of this entry, dearest journal; I hope you don't mind. With the final arrival at these docks, a new chapter in our lives has come to fruition. A fresh land, home ot a fresh start - where one can fade invisibly into the sea of bodies and resume the semblance of a life, unmarred by the slander of others. Ah, it shall be quite a treat, methinks, though one that may not last long without the proper precautions. I'll have to be certain to keep to myself for a span of time before I go seeking out the fabled graves of the Sundren dead. The past weeks activity have been a whirlwind of action, highlighted by the wrath of the sea, so very much saltwater. I am, to be honest, glad to be through all of it. The sailors can keep churning of the sea to themselves and Umberlee, for I haven't the stomach for such things.
From what I gather, my first destination is but the trade port city, called Avanthyr. My destination lies inland further, landlocked and shrouded on the sides by the twin forests. This Sundren Valley is peculiar and I must confess the sense of adventure does overtake me as I look out now from the caravan that travels from the port. Surrounded by mountains, and carved into at one precise point, with the only entrances by careful sea navigation, or through a mighty gate guarded at all times. The founders would no doubt have been proud, if not beset on all sides by the indigenous life that did not take kindly to sharing their formerly secluded land. Lucky for me, unlucky for them.
But my mind wanders, does it not? I met a fellow arcanist on the boat ride here, and we shared some casual company. An elven woman of some years, if memory serves. She was... unique. She seemed to speak with bounded passion, though it was muted by something in her mind, in her mannerisms. Not very elven, not so aloof - save from the physical advances of the desperate men of that dingy boat. Yes, the exchanges were enough to keep my mind from the boredom of sea travel, and while worthwhile company can be rare, I seem to have found something of a gem.
Now, what was her name again? Ah, yes - Ladian Ebonwraith. She'll be heading to Sundren City, as well. Perhaps we shall run into each other again, and compare our travel spell books this time. One can hope, yes. A toast, dear journal, to new beginnings and a chance at a fresh start!
Entry 2 - exigo xchange
supplies; delivered 2 dwarves - suprise find [symbol] convinced :Perry Reddan:; Helm, hah!
crafted proper, will inspect l8r - dsign, xquisit - scrolls, scrolls, scrolls ; scribing