Journal of Locrian Dalharess Continued...
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Many pages are missing from this old leather bound journal, signs show that they were ripped out in haste and not likely by a friendly hand. The first page begins halfway through the book yet so many are missing leaving one to wonder what was once written within its many missing pages.
My name…for what the captain of this vessel tells me is Locrian Dalharess. He refuses to tell me from what port we departed and only that I will never be permitted back. I awoke in the medical chamber three days ago. I had apparently suffered rather serious wounds and am suffering massive amnesia from which he told me he doesn't expect me to recover. I suspect it was made that way, either by him or another. He speaks of a small land port we will be pulling into then from there a caravan to a small barbaric wasteland called Norwick. He "advises" me to go there and never return.
I wonder what this land will bring for me and why they would cast me out here. I can only hope for some luck and pray that what ever happened does not follow me to this strange land. My biggest concern is weather or not Locrian is actually even my name, or just something the captain thought up on the spur of the moment. For now I shall make due and pray for the best. All I have with me are some minor leathers, a bit of food, some medicine and a holy symbol to Sheverash, yet for that being elven, I can't seem to recall or even speak a single word of it. Strange...
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The writing is clearly more strained as if in contemplation and confusion, the writing is quick and not as neat as before
How strange is it to speak to a half elf, to have them speak to you in the native tongue and not understand a damn word of it. In assessing my wounds as the medic did on the ship she wasn't pleased with my condition and told me to take it easy. I find myself perplexed when people speak a strange tongue and I can understand it, but my own language I cannot? What is with that? Is it part of the amnesia? It seems I will have to take the time to study the language as not only is it an insult to my heritage, but entirely disgraceful that a half elf speaks it, and I cannot. I was warned against trusting Raryldor, yet he has seemed kind to me. A bit distant admittedly but kind. They say that he uses us to achieve his own goals then casts us aside. I hope that is not true of a kindred. I will see for myself, I don't like rumors.
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(Unrelated posts removed in line with player request)
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The writing continues as the days go on, the writing neat and legible as if written by nobility
It has been a tenday since arriving in Norwick and I found two small jobs, some kid had lost their hen and it laid eggs, I found three and turned them in then some other kid needed their cow milked which was simple enough. From there I exited the south gate looking around and found the area infected with goblins….disgusting. I wound up being attacked by two smaller wolves and one huge one and had to retreat. What a first day.
From there I decided to sail up to Peltarch with the minor coin I had left in my pocket and while hunting around I found a brewery that needed a bit of help, managed to fix that for him though he still seemed a bit of an arse. Eh, thats a dwarf for ya I guess.
I still cant remember anything before waking on the vessel but I am making due as best as I can. Haven't met anyone really yet either. Well, I think I will find my rest before I exhaust myself as the boat cleric told me not to wear myself down.
