Discord
Changelog
03-27-2014, 01:27 AM
The chair scrapes noisily against the floor as Tavrin throws his weight into it, flipping through his journal to the next available page.
Another wonderful day in Thay! he writes, The beggar has buggered off and left me to my own devises - nary a day to soon, in my considered opinion. One more pointless missive dictated in that fetid breath would have driven me mad or worse - compliant. So thank the gods for that mercy. I shall tithe Talos when next the road leads to Bezantur.
Speaking of the humble Tharch which nursed me and spat me out in turns, I have had cause to visit. The road was pleasant enough, though long and - as always - plagued by bandits. A sad day for Thay when even wizards are cut down along the High Road by the likes of me - her one son not fit for the red.
He paused, thought better of it, and blotted out the last sentence. Better still to watch one's tone, even in personal writings.
Regardless, young Pip has come to an end. I should like to blame the banditry, but in fact the fault lies with me - likely he was already weakened by a diet of air and dew. Halflings have not the hardiness of the more worthy races - not even of the mangy gnolls, a race to which I am already well acquainted. In point of fact, Mutt, my latest baggage handler, is a Gnoll himself. Or itself, rather - I haven't bothered to check. Doubtless, it will prove largely immaterial.
My meeting in Bezantur went well, and I am once again dedicated to my path - mercenary mercantilism, in the best traditions of mother Thay. In fact, my coffers already flow with the Talons of the departed, both the proceeds from looting corpses and of selling their compatriots into comfortable bondage. I am no where near the rebuilding of my stock, nor of my transitional goals of a house and shop, but it is a start. Next shall come the acquisition of allies, rubes and dupes or like-minded souls, I don't yet know.
Time will tell, I am sure.
Another wonderful day in Thay! he writes, The beggar has buggered off and left me to my own devises - nary a day to soon, in my considered opinion. One more pointless missive dictated in that fetid breath would have driven me mad or worse - compliant. So thank the gods for that mercy. I shall tithe Talos when next the road leads to Bezantur.
Speaking of the humble Tharch which nursed me and spat me out in turns, I have had cause to visit. The road was pleasant enough, though long and - as always - plagued by bandits. A sad day for Thay when even wizards are cut down along the High Road by the likes of me - her one son not fit for the red.
He paused, thought better of it, and blotted out the last sentence. Better still to watch one's tone, even in personal writings.
Regardless, young Pip has come to an end. I should like to blame the banditry, but in fact the fault lies with me - likely he was already weakened by a diet of air and dew. Halflings have not the hardiness of the more worthy races - not even of the mangy gnolls, a race to which I am already well acquainted. In point of fact, Mutt, my latest baggage handler, is a Gnoll himself. Or itself, rather - I haven't bothered to check. Doubtless, it will prove largely immaterial.
My meeting in Bezantur went well, and I am once again dedicated to my path - mercenary mercantilism, in the best traditions of mother Thay. In fact, my coffers already flow with the Talons of the departed, both the proceeds from looting corpses and of selling their compatriots into comfortable bondage. I am no where near the rebuilding of my stock, nor of my transitional goals of a house and shop, but it is a start. Next shall come the acquisition of allies, rubes and dupes or like-minded souls, I don't yet know.
Time will tell, I am sure.