3. The Farmer's Almanac

The Farmer's Almanac


  • 3rd, Hammer, 1568
    _Winter storms will rule most the day, watch for sudden winds and snow. Winds will be primarily from the northeast.

    The cold may push wolves and the occasional worg out of the woods in search of food. Keep livestock penned in the barn, or guarded.

    The winter will be long so use feed as needed, but do not waste. Check grain and seed stores for unwanted insect activity as the cold pushes them to try and get indoors._

    Entry One

    My name is Wick Bean Lockrah, eldest of the children of Janor Lockrah, and Hannah Happyhill.

    For posterity sake, my siblings follow in the order of age, Ander, Zander, Phillip, the twins Janna and Hannah, Cory, Morty, the triplets, Liam, Riam, Fae, and the youngest, Candle.

    I have lived thirty eight seasons upon the lands, and majority of them as a Druid and green child of Sheela Peryroyl. I served my own people long, and well before receiving a dream one night, a dream of a land in turmoil and on the edge of death and ruin. I set out the next day to find this land with no more of a preclusion than to aid the people there as best I could. To my chagrin, the youngest sibling and newly minted Paladin, Candle, came with me.

    After arriving in the lands, which I came to know as Narfell, I joined forces with the local circle of Druids, meeting the ever attractive Aoth, and the elders Leena, Shifter, and others. A great war was fought and the demons that infested both my dreams, and the lands, were driven back to the abyss from whence they came. My youngest sister and I are still here, however, having grown accustomed to the harsh weather and people that live here. I also fear we have both changed somewhat from the people we were when we arrived, a scar if you will, forever left by the demon’s presence in the land.

    Hells I had to fight Aoth once when they possessed her, I’d rather not relive that experience. Though mentally, Candle has fared better than I.

    Though I am glad the demons have been defeated and driven out save for stragglers, I find myself now listing in direction. Goalless, mentally adrift. No amount of pipeweed has helped with the issue thus far. During the demon war I acted in ways and did things that a younger me would have been ashamed of, some of these things still travel with me to this day in spite of my own prohibitions on their use. Spells that can kill with but a touch come easily to me and I still am unsure if I am okay with that. I feel as though some of the Demon’s corruption has found a home deep within me like a weed in a field of tall corn. Unseen but there nonetheless, spreading, growing, and slowly choking out that which was originally supposed to grow there. I’m unsure how to proceed from here, and unsure if I should seek help from the good friends and allies I have made in my time here. Perhaps, for now, time will tell.

    Notes from the field

    None


  • 17th Alturiak, 1568
    ~Flurries early, pristine and pearly. Winter's come calling! Can we endure so premature a falling? Some may find this trend distressing- others bend to say a blessing over sage and onion dressing~

    Entry Two

    In my life time since taking the oaths of the druids, I have always dreamed of tasks that my goddess Sheela Peryroyl would have me do. Ways in which I could serve my people, ways I could help the farmers among them, things I would do that would keep the line between what is civilized and what is wild firm. Occasionally, these dreams would even be ways I could council a couple having trouble, once when I was young these dreams of helping a couple were about myself and a women I hope to never have to see again.

    But my own failings aside, the dreams are what always guided me, helped me, shown me what I need to see or ponder on in order to be better.

    But since the defeat of the demons my dreams have been quiet of late. The sense of listlessness I’ve felt of late has grown into a full sense of lethargy. I aid the farmers and wilds around the city where I can but there is not a lot to do there, they have their feet under them, most know what they are doing, I am simply here to support.

    But supporting is no longer enough, and my mind seems to be playing tricks on me these days. The other day I finally had a dream again but it wasn’t the kind one wants to have. I dreamed of my lost love, the woman that nearly destroyed me once, Lilly Harrowren, Not a mistake I’ll make twice is what I say in my mind, but my heart would gladly go through that mess again if it had the chance. So far, I haven’t given it the chance.

    As promised I sent a letter to my brother, Zander, who will tell my sisters as well. All of them helped me through that time, helped me stay in the right path. I promised Zander after everything had blown over that if I thought about her or dreamed of her again that I would contact him, and contact him I did, though I haven’t heard back yet.
    In the mean time I will continue on my current path, should the dreams of Lilly continue, I’ll record it here for history’s sake. For now, time will tell.

    Notes from the field

    There is a slight problem with cold mold wanting to grow on the crops of a field nearer a small family cemetery. Herbs have been applied to the fence line to help curb the spread of spores that direction.