Gorlen

It's been some time since I picked you up, journal. Don't be cross at me, I'm always busy with work. I cook from dawn to dusk for the company. I don't mind so much as I get breaks in between and my nights are free. I suppose I'm getting what I deserve, I through a fuss when Basaran hired a baker, taking offense that he did not like my bread but it was true, I needed help.

Well my name day was certainly interesting the presents I got were amazing, Kat made me a carving of a mouse and bird the mouse being Yaluz and the bird Pip mine and Skelly's little song bird. I've been teaching Kat how to carve wood and it was an amazing gift to see how good she's got.

Gorlen slowed down as they reached the gates. Some children played in the dirty streets, filled with soot and grime. Women and men walked about, sat around fires and boiling pots. Most of them disgraced and discarded, faces sour and wrinkled from hardship and life on the streets, hunger-starved and sad in their destitution. 

Diary, 

Well recent events have been interesting to say the least. I finally told pa-pa about Skelly and I, he took it better than expected but not as good as I'd liked. But Skelly seemed happy with his reaction so as long as he's happy I am too. Though apparently keeping something like a relationship a secret in the dawn is impossible. Gossip they said, oh well at least papa knows now so no more worrying about that.

I brought my sister the hunting leathers I hemmed in for her and watched her change. I could not help but feel a coal of jealously ignite in my heart. Traveling was something I have always dreamed of and now she's going to the mountains. The Blue Mountains, I've heard the dwarves speak of them in reverence and I dreamed of their icy peaks and biting winds, the hidden coves and trickling waterfalls.

Corrben flexed his hand, that was one thing he did not miss when he was in the field with Grimbriar, the bloody paperwork. He was filling out an arrest form for yet another petty thief, this time a lad of about thirteen who had stolen boots that were being repaired at the cobbler. How desperate did one have to be to steal broken boots? The nib of the quill scratched against the parchment, the boy only offered a first name and likely did not have a surname. He blew on the ink to let it dry, handing the sheet to Dawn Appledore to file.

MEGANO