Orders:
-
a new flute
-
due in
one weekfour days -
free of charge
-
- a pig
toythingsculpture (?)- dimensions: three feet tall and a little fatter than the usual pig, plus a big smile!
- no set date ongoing
- pigments by Meary, painting will be done with Meary
- free of charge / free meat from the butcher's
a wooden nose for Mearycharge: 5 silver coins- two rag dolls: replicas of me and Meary
- cannot start until Meary brings materials
- charge: 20 silver coins
Over the course of two days, I have already received ten noise complaints from Barliman and neighbouring rooms. But on the bright side, I have finished the pig legs! Or, something of them, I suppose. I would have started on the body already, but my back was starting to hurt. Now I understand why father used to be so grumpy
The rest of the sentence has been crossed out a few times to the point where it leaves a mark on the next page.
I finished Meary's nose today. I started some of it while I was sitting in the front rooms, which were fortunately rather quiet. A few days ago I wasn't so fortunate. I think I experienced the less nice side of Bree-town that night- drunkards and rude foreigners. No wonder the locals complain.
It started with a drunk Southerner who refused my every help, even when he kept tripping over every rug ever created in Arda. He was grinning like an idiot the whole time. And not only that, but a rude woman decided to dump all of her alcohol on him (to check if he was awake, she said). And her Dalish friend simply stood to the side, laughing and making fun of the poor drunkard. I told him off, of course, but all he did was tell me to watch myself. Just because my parents are rich, he said. Pah! What does he know about my family, a common Dale-man?
It seems like even though I'm long gone, home still follows me around.
Meary was asking me about love the other day. She fancies the drunk Southerner I mentioned, for whatever reason I will never fathom. He tried to bite her nose off. That doesn't seem the least bit romantic to me... I know that when I was younger, we were told that that if a boy was mean to you it means that he likes you, but does the same count for grown men? If a man tries to kill me tomorrow, does he love me unconditionally?
She is a very strange person. She thinks I sleep on a wood-carved pillow, and is very determined that I marry her quiet brother Tom. I told her that I will only marry when she does- which is never, as she made a vow to never do such thing.
Still, I enjoy her company very much. She may be my only friend in this town so far.
Key as well, perhaps? I wonder if I will see her again... a week's time, she said. That time is almost up. I think I'd better get started on that flute.
