The Journal of Xav- Gold and Sons of Armorsmiths

[Simian]

Entry 371,
The past few weeks have been though for this overgrown child from Cormyr. At long last, I had managed to track down my father to the City of Baldur's Gate. A smith by profession, perhaps it had been my profession as well had I not ran away when I did.

Entry 372,
Had company of a dwarven warrior from the Inn of Friendly Arm Inn to all the way to Baldur's Gate. I was in luck. My quiver was empty, and the master dwarf managed to keep me out of harms way.

Entry 377,
My father was glad to see me as people do not come back to life all that often, but he did not hide his dissappointment. Regardless, I hear the cousins are doing well, as are the uncles and aunts. Yet I do not know what to make of the news of my ma, how she had perished five years ago, during the Year of the Moonfall, among the other victims of the Ramset plague. And that two years ago the family dog had perished too, albeit due to old age. The order of the deaths is just wrong. But I guess my ma managed to pull off the role of an undead abomination much better than old whiskers ever could have.

I got a barrel of my mother's silk cloth from Cormyr as some kind of inheritance. You can see her handiwork in the needlework. Looking at them makes me think the world lost a great seamstress when she married me da, a smith.


Entry 380,
I headed down south again, to the Town of Nashkel. My dad mentioned that there was somewhat famous kennel somewhat East of Town. Met the master dwarf again. And the local ranger's instructions were simply hopeless.


Entry 387,
I had stopped at the Friendly Arm Inn. I had built a mighty fire to warm my toes in the chilly winter night, and spent my coin on the firewood. A dwarf in robes, appeared, and refused to join in the cost of firewood. In fact, he proceeded to grab my mother's barrel of silks and threw it into the fire itself. I was stunned, and when I demanded for compensation, he turned me stone.

Well, luckily the dog managed to draw the help of some kind hearted adventurer, but mark my words, this dwarf called Max, the scummy half-spawn of feebleminded orcs shall feell my wrath should I ever see him again. I just have to figure out how to make an elf kiss a dwarf.