A journal in posession of a Maura Charring

[Tantive]

By the candlelight, soft scratches of a quill can be heard. A red headed woman with wavy locks was writing in a bound journal. The tip of the quill slid across the parchment leaving ink behind. Her first entry was being written.

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You gave me the idea for a journal my dear friend, if we meet again, or this journal makes it´s way to you ...you will know what has happened to me when I left.

Yes, I did take those glasses.

[Tantive]

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8th of Tarsahk

I made it out safely. No one seems to have followed me here this far south. I am relieved, to say the least. Inside the Winding Inn, found myself talking to strangers sharing stories. Strange man he was, speaking of his past like that. Kasharon seems to enjoy pain or find it inevitable. I don´t care for that. Don´t like the look of that tiefling Nephxik either, shifty fellow. Looking for trouble is what his sort is. Myron Greer seems to have been expected, coming to our table. He offered a job to map ruins around the area. I will need the coin, but he didn´t seem completely honest about how dangerous those ruins would be. Would pay upfront for a portion too. Suspicious. Thorn, strange little hin joined the table. Seems to be the one who´ll map the ruins. The client better find his work good enough, I don´t want to have to step in a dusty ruin twice.

Then we have Edgar, servant of Waukeen and skilled healer by his words. He better be, I don´t know about this group. The there was also a man called Sam, a servant of Mystra. Really, do only men come to this inn? Then an elf walked into the bar, tracker named El´doran. Don´t know much of all of these strange folk but for the bald man, telling a story about pain, as a kid asking too many questions.

We´ll meet another day, and set off for the job. Whoever will appear then will have to do, I really need the coin.