The Dawn Hall

The pain was unbearable. Intense, throbbing pain unlike anything Taraborn had felt before. It felt like a troll was pounding against his head over and over. The solid, uneven surface he was lying on was not his bed. He slowly opens his eyes, only to quickly squeeze them shut and shield them with his hand. It was as though the light were daggers entering his skull. Slowly he gets accustomed to the light and looks about, still needing to shield his eyes.

Diary,

It's been wonderful... I can barely stop to think straight my minds all a-flutter. I guess I should explain all that's happened.

Diary,

Where do I begin? I guess when I arrived at the Dawn Hall yesterday, Basaran had large portion of the company in a meeting, he'd decided to make us clean up the hall after some acrobats painted it Pink. Apparently it was revenge against Skalforn for ruining their lawn, so he was tasked with cleaning the roof.

Diary, 

The journey from Snowbourn was arduous on account of the two stab wounds to her abdomen, a farewell gift her Step Father had arranged for her.  She was not sure if it was to see an end to her, or to her ability to have children.