Character Biographies, Journals, and Stories
Moderators: Moderator, DM
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Tue Apr 06, 2021 5:26 pm
Location: Friendly Arm Inn
Sera snaps like sparkling oil. Clearly sunflower oil, that oil plebians from Saerloon's slums would cook with, but she doesn't know it and doesn't need to. Oil sounds like a tempting, alluring nickname. I am quite proud of myself. Anyone can come up with a nickname that never existed before, but to keep it simple all the same? It certainly takes talent. I do find some fascination in this sport. It was pleasant to know that Sera's family owns a library, I do enjoy meeting other persons of status.
Friendly Arm cuisine has surpassed my expectations, truly marvelous work. The beef steak was a little overcooked, I would add thyme to the salad, but still quite a solid performance. Perhaps my tastes were numb by continuous journey through savage settlements such as Berdusk and Scornubel. Not only common food have I found, but, to my surprise, exotic dish. Lizard egg omelette. I would recommend it to any person with refined tastes looking for gastronomic adventures.
My backpack was akin to a notherner raid, so full of blue eyes. Eyes are running out, father was greedy as always, why does it still surprise me? It is inevitable I will need to find work to sustain myself, that much was known, but it happened too soon. I couldn't properly enjoy my time on the Coast, such a shame, such a disaster. Every land has its own exploits, I can only hope to figure them out before all my hawks fly away. And to only think I have only one decent suit, what was I thinking of?
Being far away from home takes a hit on my discipline. The sweet air of freedom, lust for immolating your life and dancing around the fire. Alas, a single slack is a brick pulled from the pyramid's bottom, as says master Metankhotep. He has high expectations of me, the expectations my father never saw. To him it's always been a fun time he can gift his children. Horse-riding, fencing, ball dance, lanceboard, all teachers were the same to him, hirelings for hawks. Master Metankhotep is above our petty level of existance. I do not prove my worth for Metankhotep, nor even for my father. For what? Fun question... No fitting gag thus far.
(✓) 20 miles
(✓) 500 push ups
(✓) 1000 squats
(✓) 1/2 candlemark of hand stand
(✓) 2 candlemarks of meditation
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Tue Apr 06, 2021 5:26 pm
Location: Baldur's Gate Graveyard + Mausoleum
I am displeased with the state of Baldur's Gate graveyard. An ill tended forgotten place swarming with skeletons, such gaping incompetence is unbelievable, I was of higher opinion about the Duke order. On the other hand, I took advantage over this incompetence and helped myself with some pretty blue eyes. Blue eyes never smell, as we know. As a matter of fact, I see a lot of potential. I wonder how much would it cost to purchase the graveyard. Erase the graves, plant better flora, it would be magnificent gardens. Could be the first property for House Ravnika in these barbarian lands.
As there were undead on the graveyard, I needed a bodyguard. Aimee agreed to become one, the first session is free, what a nice halfling lady. She is surprisingly serious for a hin, chiding me from time to time. I find it cute. She suggested that the graveyard is cursed, but I stick to the incompetence theory until proven otherwise.
The mausoleum was entertaining. A painting over a coffin amused me greatly, is this an inn or a tomb? It looks as if the locals enjoy dying with style. Take, for example, two coffins I found nearby, one stone and one wooden. It is impossible to imagine a high-born person would agree to be buried beside a plebian, so my theory is quirks. Judging on druidic style trend in the southern Sembia, I could see why would they choose a wooden coffin.
I've lost Aimee in the dark, hope she didn't perish, she was quote useful and entertaining. Instead, I found Hadush who agreed to become my new bodyguard. His performance wasn't bad for the amount of nothing I paid, but he was still subpar compared to Aimee, not talking about him being a subhuman, a mudblood of orcish heritage. Due to his incompetence, I had to involve myself in the combat. It was a refreshing expeience, I admit. Undead bodies differ from human ones, I need to urgently find hand balm and tight bandages, my skin itches, this is a catastrophe.
(✓) 15 miles
(✓) 1 candlemark of meditation
(✓) 3 candlemarks of field experience