Thursday, September 23, 2004


Day One

Hmm... I'd been meaning to start some sort of diary again for a while, but getting this cute little book yesterday has decided things for me. I was in a tavern just inside the town's north gate, drinking a little and listening a lot, when this strange old man came in. I thought he was at least quarter-elf to begin with, he was very old and very thin, with fine-quality but rather old clothes, and he had a bag of stuff to sell. I never buy "magic health potions", or amulets, or "enchanted daggers", but the book caught my eye - for one thing it was a lot cleaner than anything else, it looked new, and the pages were so white they were almost pale blue.

"You like it?" His teeth were surprisingly good, though his breath wasn't. "You don't need a quill and ink, you just use this pointy-ended little glass rod, no mess, no smudges." He went on to say it was "enabled", whatever that meant. He was a bit vague, but I think he was claiming there was a vast wizards' library somewhere, and my words would magically appear in a book there. Hi, Ser Mage! Heheh, as if...

Anyway, I smiled, showed a little cleavage, bought him a drink and a bowl of rabbit soup, and got the book for only a few coppers, which isn't bad, unless the writing fades away after an hour or two. Otherwise the tavern was quiet - no town-lords in this area of Fortune's World are recruiting mercenaries, no villages being attacked by bandits, no goblin hordes sweeping down from the hills. So I am still in need of some relatively honest work.

My rent on this room will be due soon... I think I'll go and have a word with Ashil tomorrow, he may have some sort of local job he can put my way. It would be nice to earn enough to be able to stay here over the winter. But that's enough for a first entry, since I have no swordplay to report, no throats or purse-strings cut, no seductions...sigh... 22 years old, fit and female, an adventurer who has killed bandits, enemy soldiers, scaly monsters, and even, with some help, a rather young dragon, and I come back to an empty room, still remarkably sober, and sit down and write? Things can only get better!

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?