[Eel-oil Stained Journal]

[caesaropapist]

[Undated]
Never much a fan of my letters. Pops, bouza hound that he was, really did do his best to try. When one of Anders' men came by with his lists and orders, he always made me read it out to him. One new skinning knife: one climbing hook. Scalemail plate, three-pronged chains and forks. I learned a bit, I suppose.

Fat good it did me. The Smithing trade wasn't for me. Some ways, maybe Ringfall was a blessing. I'd have drank myself into an early grave if I had to take over the family Forge back in '99. Bit of a stereotype that Dwarves love blacksmithing, innit? A "tired trope". If you'd see me now, Pops, you'd damn well lose it at me and get the belt.

Eels. Eels. Eels.
Il Modo! The land of opportunity! For the rich.
I don't mind fishing, I suppose. But some nights, I swear I see something out there.
A great big white Eel, watching me from the fog banks.

[caesaropapist]

Hziran 14th, IY 7788

Wasn't so bad, Eeling. Seven years of hard work, I made myself some money. Not much: but enough to drink, enough to eat, and occasionally enough to get myself something nice. But good things come to an end. Pierro got glassed by some smarmy shit with a Citizen's Knife for getting into a barfight.

Beat the little shit half to death. Don't think he's going to be eating anything but soup for a while. But they dragged me to the courthouse, pinned me up. "Exile," they said. Didn't really love Il Modo. Just the Peerage in another shade. Where I am now -- it's alright, really. "Ephia's Well". Full of work. Lots of bandits.

Did something you wouldn't be so proud of, though, old man.
My new boss told me to break the legs of the other Recluta. Teach 'em the cost of fucking up.
I did it. No shame. They offered me a raise and a shoe-in for a promotion.

Poor Banducci. All snot-faced and bloody. Part of me I don't like was all giddy at the way he clammed up when I grabbed him by the head and got to gloat. Mahmoud -- well, he bruised my ass bad, but I got him good in the face. We'll call it a mixed bag. Emilia ... she put up a good fight, but I'm tough-gutted.

Here's to some spending money.

[caesaropapist]

Hziran 15th, IY 7788

ONE DINAR!

One Dinar. For spending thousands in potions, and beating my other Recluta half to death: they gave me an extra Dinar in wage. Even Pounder Brothers & Sons Hammering Company paid me better than this, and the boss of the company was a GNOME. And you know how Gnomes are about money. I should've seen this coming, the way that Balestriere acts.

I get why the others don't like her. I don't really get involved in office politics so long as I'm played, but in our line of work, I think you need an amenable relationship with your people or they WILL glass you when you're alone in the woods with them.

But I've met a few people I don't mind. Made a lot of money, so far. Think I must've pulled in a hair under four thousand in dues for myself. Even gave some of it to the company. Banda Rossa's not so bad.

[caesaropapist]

Hziran 19th, IY 7788
    A time when unions of love are formed.

I've never been very close to the Gods.

Back in 99, the Lady-in-Waiting was a matter for Humans. We Small-folk kept our Small-Gods. But the Small Gods died with our Home. In Il Modo, I gave some token praise to the Sages. Vittoria, for a good wind. But I can't say I feel them in my gut, the way we did the Old Kind.

But I feel like I ought to. Who else is going to keep me alive? There's another war on the horizon, and we're going to be the first ones on the lines. Recluta - disposable. I don't want to die. I want to live, and I want to be rich. I want to be respected and loved!

Which of you'll give me that?!
Please, send me a sign.