Dark words spilled across the page, flowing as easily as the ink that had formed them in the thick leather-bound journal. A thin strip of leather attached to the edge of the back cover served as a tie that would wrap around the book to keep it closed and also bind its companion pen to it to prevent it getting lost in the archaeologist’s bag.
4722 AR
Evening of the 19th of Gozran
Village of Klo
Will there come a time when I meet a fae creature who isn’t absolutely atrocious? “I stole this wretched infant, so it’s clearly mine now!” Yes, just ignore the original crime that led to the acquisition of the brat to begin with. Regardless, I am thankful that its life was spared and it was reunited with its family.
Nothing is worse than escaping death only to grow up in a place where you’re unwanted.
Blotches of ink stain the page, clearly formed from pressing the nib too hard against the paper while scratching out the lines below the scribbles.
I must admit, it was delightful to get back to what I thrive on- research. The ledger was most interesting, displaying a fair bit of the history of the area. I must see if I can get a copy of this made, along with the almanac from the farm. Both could be quite useful in establishing a written timeline of the area. I do wish I were back in my chambers, though. I could have done with a good cuppa. The barley tea I was provided was passable enough, but I could tell it had been steeped too long. Had that bitter almost burnt taste to it. Though I wasn’t about to comment on the quality of a warm drink provided to me free of charge. That’s just in poor taste all around.
The gift Sveta gave to me was wonderful — I never expected one would come across something as delightful as a Bookthief Brew in a town such as this.
I wonder if it’s too late to call on the blacksmith yet again. I’d very much like to exchange coin for some of his fine wares…
