[Dyskordia]

A functional, legible but not particularly neat hand penned the contents of this leather-bound book.

First Mate's Log: 14 Eleasis, 1359 DR

Seems something old Ironbones beat into me has stuck. I could feel the skin of my back itching from past lashes as I bought this stupid thing. There's little point of me keeping a log. I have no ship anymore. According to many of the souls here I am now a prisoner of some force far greater than I could even conceive of, and I know that the Widow's Cry waits for no one. So here I find myself amongst these sorry landlocked sods.

I don't like it here. There's something about these streets, these stones that tugs on me like an undertow. That a part of me seemed to... know these streets made me only angrier. And what made me angriest of all was running into Dumah.

I'll admit that I felt some pang of regret as I fled through the dark from the slavers that had pursued us but the relief was far greater. That I didn't have to deal with his Gods-damned do-good bollocks was a boon. Still, he was an able travel companion and I could not fault his prowess. Too bad his little sacrifice was all in vain.

I should have known better. I had more than enough time to go around the town to the ship, but something dragged me in. I could feel in my bones that my choice was not completely my own as I passed the tightly boarded houses and through the stinking streets. As the new batch of slavers closed in, I knew that I was completely at their mercy and as furiously as I fought there was nothing I could do to stop the events from unfolding. Because I did not listen, I lost everything I had earned. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I will get back, though, and woe to those who stand in my way. I refuse to be anyone's pawn. I have spent too many years clawing my way to the top only to have it snatched away by some foreign man's whimsy.[/font]

[Dyskordia]

First Mate's Log: 16 Eleasis, 1359 DR

They laughed at me! I am Aria Stormborne, First Mate to the dread ship Widow's Cry, and they burst out laughing as if I were an imbecile or a jester! Not only did they laugh, they gave me the soundest beating I've had since old Ironbones! As I write this I wait for the poultice to work on my ribs. It was a miracle that I got away, really. They'll get what's coming to them, though. Mark my words, they'll regret it.

Right now, as much as it pains me to admit it, Dumah was right. Everything I had worked so hard for is gone. I'm little more than the sludge that floats around piers, and it makes me want to burn this place to the ground. Not that I could, anyways. I need a new crew, or new allies if I ever want to get out of this place. I may have to kiss up to Dumah and the woman who travels with him, even.

I'll first try the half- drunk young man who approached me in the market place. He had the look of a lordling fresh out of luck. Should be easy enough. I'll find others along the way, I'm sure.

I will also have to choke on my pride and deal with that half-rotten piece of chum they call the Beggar. I think he takes a perverse joy in this whole process, but I get gold at least, and gold is something I need the most right now. My trusted blade is gone along with the rest of my hard-earned gear and I weep inside at its loss. I'll have to claw my way up yet again.

[Dyskordia]

22 Eleasis, 1359 DR

I can't do this. I would do anything to leave this demi-plane of the Hells and go home. Anything.

[Dyskordia]

4 Eleint, 1359 DR

It's working, now. Dumah and I have a truce, and it's working out. It seems that he's decided to be more open about his faith and his practicing of it, so perhaps this is why he's decided to turn the other cheek? I think it's silliness, but I'm not about to dissuade him from his decision. I fight, I play nice, and I get enough gold to keep myself well basted in booze and improve on my equipment. I've also been fortunate enough to avoid the she-demon that I had the misfortune of meeting a few weeks back. Praise be to whatever god arranged that. I still need to pay off her buddy, and then I can wash my hands clean of it all. The month is coming up fast, so I'd better track her down and be done with it.

However, all the booze in the world won't touch the growing ache I'm beginning to feel. This landlocked cesspool is starting to feel more and more like a cage. Sometimes I can swear I hear the cries of the gulls and the lapping of water against wood but when I look it quickly becomes clear that it's just a manifestation of a yearning heart. I've rarely spent this much time on land since I first started my life on the sea. I miss the rolling waves, the smell of saltwater and the feel of the sun on my face. I miss the songs and camaraderie as we worked. The ache I feel in my muscles is just not the same. Call me a madwoman, but I even miss feeling Umberlee's fury as we struggled to keep afloat.

Perhaps what I miss the most is the stars. They're just not the same here. There was nothing like laying on the deck at night and watching them as they shimmered in the night sky. There was no light save for perhaps a lantern and the moon. The sky would just come alive with those winking gems and the surface of the water would multiply them until the entire world was made of starlight, it seemed.

And if I keep writing about this, I'll sink further into despair and into the bottle. I'm homesick, I think. I find only fragments of peace here and there, at best. *Here, it seems she was tapping the page in thought with the tip of her quill, leaving patch of dots*

Perhaps one more bottle and I can forget it all for the night.

[Dyskordia]

13 Eleint, 1359 DR

Seems Thay took my little lordling. I was supposed to meet him today, but when I arrived there was nothing but a room out of sorts and his favourite blue cloak. It hurts to write this as I greatly enjoyed his company and I don't know where to look. There were sounds of a struggle last night but of course no one bothered to look. When I ask about what happened, I get a series of shrugs and blank looks in return. Slavers probably took him away, or worse. I can only hope that the Gods have mercy on him. I know that the innkeep's going to make a fortune off of me tonight. Good thing he has that new keg of whiskey. I plan on draining it. I should check in with Dumah and see how he's doing. Knowing him he's probably off being the damn do-gooder that he is. It would be a crying shame if he up and vanished, too.

Been doing more bladework, trying to set myself up with all the rest of the sorry saps who get caught up in this little game with the Beggar and such. Did some work for a tiefling man. Strangest one I've met so far. Too slick, though. Too quick with the flattery. Goes on about how lovely I am. I've got no time for these "lady games". Gods knows I'm no lady!

Also, my month is running out fast. I need to find that other wench so I can give her her damn gold, as I am in no mood to deal with that she-demon again.

[Dyskordia]

The writing here is more shaky than previous entries , but still legible.

Uktar 30, 1359

Leave her Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her Johnny, leave her!
For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her.

So, went and sold my soul, so to speak. Joined the Thayan Navy as a deckhand. Forgive me, friends, but there's little else I can do and the sea calls to me with a song as strong as a siren's. At least I can pretend I can sail home, even though I know that I'm bound to these waters and this land with chains stronger than what any mortal can forge.

There were celebrations for the Feast of the Moon today. I've never been one to celebrate them in the past. Everyone around me who had been lost either deserved what they got or just... didn't matter. Still I find that those who have been lost decided to make me at least remember them. Usually the bottle would shut them up amongst other things, but Dumah's been pushing me to put it aside. Seems that in the process of shutting them up I've been drinking myself to death, too. Perhaps I have been, but as I sober up all those ghosts are returning with a vengeance.

I could swear I saw Old Man Rankar on the docks of Bezantur today. He's been dead for well over a decade now, though. Tam, too, but I could smell his pipe as I went in to enlist. Right now, I can hear the bosun grousing to another deckhand and threatening to give him a sound beating if he didn't do the job right, and as I write this, the room sways and groans as if I were back in my cabin on the Cry. They're all dead and gone but they won't.... go. I wish they would.

Perhaps they would if I did remember them? Pay their dues? I don't know, but I know that they won't let me sleep. So... I will remember them, and I'll remember my lordling who's been dragged away. Seems Thay is little different than the sea in that regard. Maybe then I can get some sleep.

[Dyskordia]

Nightal 3, 1359 DR

They've sent me to sea, finally, and I am currently a deckhand on the good ship Gehennora. She's... a fine lady, I have to admit. Sleek and slender, fast and agile. Designed to be an interceptor of pirates and other undesirables. A lot of love went into her designing and her building, and you can see it in every piece. The Cry, although a fine lady herself, wasn't quite as well thought out as the Gehennora.

The captain is a harsh, unforgiving woman, but surprisingly even-handed. Even the slaves are not treated with undue harshness, but rue the day they were born if they even think of stepping out of line. So far, I've kept my head down and it's served me well enough. The crew is far more mixed than I thought it would be. The slaves are mostly half-orc and some of the stronger humans, but the free crew shows greater diversity.

We're given a grog share, but we've been so busy lately that I haven't the time to even think of drinking more. The shakes have passed, and the ghosts of my past have stopped haunting my days like they were before. I work, I sing, I sleep mostly well and do it all over again the next day. Life has become... remarkably simple again. Well, for now, at least.

The lookout said he spotted signs of a storm on the horizon.

[Dyskordia]

Nightal 7, 1359 DR

He was right. Umberlee let loose her furies on us and the storm lasted for three days. This is the first time since it started that I've been able to sit and think. During those three days, she took two *this number was scratched out* three slaves, a deckhand and the carpenter. Almost lost another slave, but I managed to catch him before he went clear over the rail. His name was Mathieu, I think. I'm thankful that this crew was not green or else things would have been worse.

The ship is still afloat, although we all are ruing the loss of the carpenter. Her apprentice managed to patch us up well enough that we won't sink like a stone but we still have to man the pumps. Clever pumps, though. Whoever designed them must've been a sailor at some point.

Our biggest loss was the foremast. There must have been a flaw in the wood because it cracked clear up the middle. There's no way we can use it. The sail of the main mast is half shredded but we can piece it together again. We should have it done by tomorrow at the latest. However, with the loss of the foremast we need to return to port for repairs. A crying shame, but that's the way things go. I'm looking forward to a hot meal.

[Dyskordia]

Nightal 9, 1359 DR

Things really are looking up! I was right about my lordling, but oh so wrong at the same time. He's fine, he'll be fine. He's not exactly a little lordling, either, so I'm relieved. I just can't believe how much I've missed him. There's something about him that makes me sad when it's gone. He's a bundle of light and joy, and I think only the most bitter would be repelled by it. My hope is that when he's gone again he stays safe. For now, though, we run tasks together on the mainland and keep ourselves busy with each other's company.

The Gehennora is still being repaired, but the captain hopes that they have it done by the middle of next month. Things are looking... hopeful. My hope is to work hard enough to get a commission of my own. It's not what I had in mind and it's not ideal, but I'll take what I can get. Maybe things aren't so bad here afterall.

---

*Here, the page was a little warped by what looked like drops of something. Judging by the size and pattern, it was probably tears.*

Nightal 20, 1359 DR

Well, party's over. Apparently I'm not good enough to do anything except toil under someone's boot-heel because one of my parents decided they fancied elves instead of "their own kind". The captain seemed a little regretful when she told us and said she wouldn't blame any of us if we jumped ship. We were all good sailors, she said, and that we were better than what the Legion could offer us. Everyone else who chose to leave signed their papers, gave back their cloaks and were gone on the next merchant vessel out of this hellhole. Me... well, I don't have that option. Captain didn't have my papers, so I have to go talk the Master Sergeant. I'd love to punch her smug, lying little face in. I also pray that Umberlee drowns the lot of them.

So, here I am again without a ship and without a hope in the Nine. What else am I supposed to do? Curse this gods-forsaken land! Let the Abyss swallow it up! To the Abyss to the farkers that dragged me here and ruined my life because I could "maybe be some use to them"! Damn each and every one of them!

[Dyskordia]

Nightall 23, 1359 DR

I hate bureaucrats. The Master Sergeant seemed... bored. Uncaring, as I expected. Glad to see me go, I'm sure. "I won't talk you out of this, but are you sure?" What sort of stupid question is that?!? She knew full well I'd never get a commission and I refuse to be under anyone's bootheel because I was born to the wrong parents! Slavers still tried to take me as I was signing the papers, no doubt to toss me back in binds to row. I ran him through. Perhaps I was imagining things, but she seemed a little disappointed. Did they do this to others who tried to leave?

So here I am. So much for doing things the "right" way. What a waste of time. If you want something, you just take it. I want the life of the one who ruined everything, so when I'm ready... I'll take it.