Personal Records
Though I am quite far from the mastery of the written word, it is simply an assertion of mine that every adventuring band must have at least one who will keep record of their lives. Of course, these entries are less focused on the empirical and the factual and more to my own whim, but who should return to read this but me and another who will encounter these entries long after I am gone?
I. The Motley Crew
A port in Mizzen. Pen____de, 6th Fey (Winter), 586 SGR.
It is early morning, quite a ways before sunrise. The ports in Mizzen are less industrious in comparison to the bustle of Osterhold, which I can appreciate. I like to believe I’m less conspicuous, now that I’m dressed more appropriately for travel. In comparison to the robes suited for formality, this sort of attire allows free range of movement— something that is perhaps necessary when one is more nomadic.
Captain Ciannait Flame is a bellower of tunes of the ominous kind, and his shipmates are equally… rambunctious. They bear semblance to the merriment of a tavern— full of rum and eccentric topics of dialogue that seem to be better left misinterpreted.
‘Gideana’, as she addresses herself, is a priestess like myself, though more open with revealing herself to the rest. Though it could all very well be fabricated, I’d say she holds no qualms about sharing her personal details. She speaks much of family, of her roots which I will not delve much into detail out of respect for her personal life.
The one they address as ‘Vee’ has been keeping her sharp glare trained on the newcomers. Her posture and tone of voice is a display of confidence and leadership. It is not difficult to presume that she may be a hurdle that I must overcome; from observations, she possesses the tendency to be territorial and authoritative. I’d wager that her decisions are not often disputed against, and she isn’t one who will accept what is vague so easily. Besides that, she seems skillful in speaking with animals. Whether that skill is merely restrained to that of the whale she spoke to, specifically life in the ocean, or all animals will be something I hope to soon discover.
‘Jericho’ is another priest who lives at “Sunset”, which seems to refer to the Temple of Orange Sunsets in Agowah. He melds and settles into this crowd in a rather funny way, a centerpiece settled crooked on a mantle. They tease him much for what propriety he seems to preserve, which gets me thinking that priests aren’t often well-accepted with these folk. And yet he holds his own fairly well amongst them, with that signature resigned look on his face as if he’s well accustomed to this sort of treatment. He appears a bit on edge at all times, and will often rise in agitation easily, though for what reasons I couldn’t be too sure. Perhaps it has to do with that bottle of rum, that stamp, and the Geas they’ve all been talking about.
‘Lirtimya’ is what they call “the navigator”. Considering her talk of that “Wall of Fog”, I can gather that she may be a mage or someone with access to spells of some sort. She seems the reliable type who is well-read and more reserved in her speech.
‘Levi’ and ‘Melange’ apply their brute strength with tasks that require such things. At the moment, it appears to be rowing; though they say it is never proper to be too presumptuous, such skills would be useful applied in the front lines during conflict. Both are visibly more laid-back in their philosophies of life and good-natured in spirit, laden with a kind of light humor and never refusing a bit of rum.
I’ve also observed ‘Matty’ (as addressed so by ‘Vee’) habitually keeping his hands on his blades. However, the blades aren’t long knives, which tells me a multitude of things. Either: a) he may not be one who prefers to face conflict head on as ‘Levi’ or ‘Melange’ would or b) he prefers to put an end to his conflicts within close range. He appears to be less interested and open to meeting new people, which I suppose in some way is a bit more similar to ‘Vee’, equipped with a sardonic sort of wit.
‘Rothuss’ remains to be a bit… incomprehensible. There’s something… vaguely shapeless about his character that I cannot quite put a finger on. Hypothetically, it is akin to attempting to catch fog— the more you attempt, the more it slips through your fingers. He seems knowledgeable enough about wielding a blade, and yet he does not habitually reach for them like Vee or ‘Matty’. He is personable enough to meld into a crowd, yet is off on his own when it suits him.
Together, they are akin to some sort of tricky cacophony. Pieces of a puzzle thrown haphazardly together in the hopes that they’d fit. And now, I pose as another, evidently in the name of Bran and the Cathedral.
It appears that it shall be quite the journey to tread where they go.
II.
Osterhold, Borinquen. Ko____de, 8th Man (Early Spring), 586 SGR
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