Stonehome Inn, Stonehome The handwriting on this weathered page, while still legible, is not the usual neat, angled script you’ve seen in previous entries. Instead the letters are a bit wobbly and the lines of text are slanted and unevenly spaced. The page is a mess as well, dotted with ink blots and stains of…
Category: The Tales of Revelry The Bard
25th of Loversmoon, 278 AB
2nd Roadside camp, The Worgwood I don’t think any of us will be sleeping tonight. The Worgs have been hounding us since just before dusk and now, even as I write this, we hear them all around us in the darkness. Flitting shadows the size of small horses move among the trees at the edge…
24th of Loversmoon, 278 AB
Roadside camp, The Worgwood So far this trip is not going at all according to plan. The Thunder Squall cost us by a day and half of travel, putting us well behind schedule and leaving Paws After The Fireflies with a difficult decision to make. Originally, we were to make camp that first day just…
23nd of Loversmoon, 278 AB
Caravan Camp, Tradetown Good afternoon, dear reader. Gods, I am sore today – but happy to be alive! Many on The Span yesterday weren’t so lucky. Seventeen people lost their lives and not a single soul walked off that bridge unscathed. Our rescuers from Trade Town were amazing, though, and the bridge was cleared and…
22nd of Loversmoon, 278 AB
Caravan Camp, Tradetown Gods Above! I nearly died today! But Revelry, you ask, How can that be? It was but the very first day of your very first journey on your own… Very true, dear reader; and yet this afternoon I teetered on the threshold of death‘s door not once, but twice at the least….
21st of Loversmoon, 278 AB
Bardic College, City of Fairhaven To be completely candid, I didn’t expect packing to be so heartbreaking. I only lived on campus for the final year and a half of my apprenticeship, but somehow I’ve managed to accumulate far more junk than I could possibly hope to carry with me on the road. And each…
15th of Loversmoon, 278 AB
Bardic College, City of Fairhaven Well curl my horns and call me a Satyr – I actually made it! Who would have ever thought that a guildless nobody from the Dregs would be able to earn his place at the most prestigious bardic college in the Boiling Seas! Yet here I am – official graduate…
An Old and Dusty Journal
You can faintly tell that the old tome’s cover was once ornately carved and dyed, but is it so worn from age and use that you can no longer make out many details. Lifting it from the ancient desk sets off a swirl of dust, tickling your nose with the musty smell of ancient wisdom….