[This collection of parchment is cobbled together in an untidy book and kept on the person of Vaskr Farsong. Much of the writing already bears the work of another author...]
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersYet we applaud your little trick,
Your artful ways and cunning wit
For in this world of shadows and deceit,
Your courage and resolve we gladly greet
normally not one for journaling, but I saw Skink and Grime scribbling in their own when they got a moment so I figure what's good for the goose is
good for me
and I saw some shit that's worth writing out slow-like and thinking on
I used to think the shadows were the Moon, but they don't talk like I'd think the Moon would
they talk like ME
or not like me but like your average fellow with hopes and dreams and limbs and life
like the one from the courthouse that talked about the coffee being worms and the sun being a lie and why it makes our skin itch under its lie-giving rays
or the one from the creep that talked about trust and murder and elves
they want to talk, they want to be HEARD but you would think that if it was HER she'd be more inclined to give advice or give or take or bless
I don't quite understand it and I don't know who to talk to about it
P? Might get it but what can they actually
the Dunce? Ehhh
maybe this just stays with me from now on a little secret that grows roots in the heart
not sure this helped but you know what might
moondust
scorch
beer
mizzar
let's try QuoteHer voice was stolen, taken now
Her words no longer heard
For in the end, she stole our choice
With nary a single word
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersReports have come in of a new Minor Nuisance prowling the gutter. Nuisance is a halfling typically wearing dark clothes and a slime creature of unknown category. It has been harassing and attacking travelers in search of offerings for it's dark God and is of moderate danger. Investigate and approach with colleague
whodafuckingthunk
SMILEY
Smiley knew what I was talking about cept he calls the shadow-people the collective
"This life has been played out a thousand times before and a thousand times after we turn to dust."
not sure if I believe it
if I want to believe it
the way his hands paw at ya like he wants to make sure that you're real that you're there that you exist
(or that he exists? that he's on the right side of the veil?)
the way he copies folk the way they talk act move emote
it all makes sense
and this 'medicine' is something else entirely
not sure it's something that needs to be shared with the crew, because the withdrawal is a nasty thing
could get them killed, and i don't want that on me
even if they're not real, or any of this
that's just too much responsibility
it might help P
now i just need to find them again, snort some of this and see what comes of it
QuoteMay the falling star keep your hope in the dark.
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersHe arrived in Ephia's Well as a refugee and had lived there for only 11 days before his exile. His death has either already occurred or will occur..
"Yeah, Vask, Drago, Skink....all crew. Trust them all with my life."
I watched him then. Him, Skink...they had been all out of sorts when they burst into the Krak, enspelled to the balls and nerves shot. Skink was looking all around in that jittery, ground squirrel-y way like she figured something might pop out to eat her at any second. And Grime looked ready to punch that thing in the face if it did– he was holding himself with a lot of tension. Not quite a fighter's stance, but ready to slide into it if need be. He didn't look my way when he said it, but he didn't need to.
Because when you trust someone, you can turn your back on them without any fear of a knife ending up in it.
I thought of P, too. You and me. Our words. They trust me; enough to stay when others would've (and should've) run from a losing fight. Enough to bring me into a scheme when it could've snared me good instead.
I thought of the shadow in the bowels of the Creep. Telling me who I can and can't trust. They have me, but I have me, too...
That night, and that night, and those nights...the Moon shone a little brighter on me. I I heard Her voice in my heart– or maybe I only imagined I did. I am Hers, and She's jealous.
I can only rely on myself. That's what I believed then. Do I believe it now? Which one's truth, and which one's the lie?
How do I figu
QuoteDespite his past misdeeds, Shane was remembered by those who knew him as a fervent distributor of licenses, and as someone dedicated to a long and fruitful occupation in government.
Shane's passing serves as a reminder of the fragility of life and the importance of forgiveness and redemption. May he rest in peace.
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersGot nimble fingers, a strong arm
Last night was about the worst trip I've had in a long time. I won't say lifetime– that long night in Qadira with the parrot, the hound and the Stonefolk singer still holds the crown– but it was up there.
Really trying to wrack my brains here
The first...was Her. I'm sure of that. Ever-changing, ever-shifting, ambiguous. Beautiful. And from Her eyes to her finger came the axe. Pillars of moonlight erupt from its touch, and no other weapon, axe or otherwise, has felt as right in my hand. That one stays with me; it's my secret and no one else's.
After that, things get fuzzier.
There was the courthouse– indistinct in form but indistinguishably human, from what they discussed. Coffee, courts and crime. If it wasn't for the fact that it was some kind of amorphous shadow, it would've fit in real well with the peanut gallery.
There was the Creep. Didn't have a shape either, and it had a real grim outlook on life. Killed the worms. Not a friend, exactly. Not friendly, but not hostile either. Just kind of there.
There was the Krak. That one was wearing
My hat? Or its own?
Not sure, but it gave it to me. Said it wasn't the Moon but something else. That would be a few weeks ago, now.
There was the one in Drago's room. Had a shape, but different from the others. That felt more like a
A vision, maybe? What do you call a vision that's a warning? An omen? A grim portent?
Scary stuff.
Two more last night makes seven. I may even be forgetting some.
Everything is tied together. Beware the blade. Beware the...Mist?
Moon, take some pity on this poor dreamer and give him a good run of luck, because he sure fucking needs it.
QuoteSeek The Jackal
Quote from: A scavenged scrap of parchment collected from the GuttersTHE LEAGUE OF WHITE PROUDLY PRESENTS
CYRILLE MONTEGLAS, PUBLIC ADVOCATE
RUNNING FOR LEGATE
CHICKEN IN EVERY POT
It takes a certain level of... something. Not bravery. What's the opposite of sobriety? I wasn't drunk or high for it, though
A certain level of something
to step into a beartrap you know is riiiiight there. And I knew it was coming, thanks to R's letter. When I have more than two dinari to rub together I'll throw him some charity as a thank you. But still. It was harder than I thought it was to step aside.
They were on me pretty much instantly. And at that point, all I could do, all that could be done, was leave it up to the whims of the Moon. Pray that my little mockery was enough to burn their ass without leaving a mark. And I don't think it worked.
Lost the shit. Didn't lose any dinari but that's kind of an afterthought I don't have Her protection and I can't see Her face without the shit
SHIT
SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT
I can't believe he gave them my name. How's that for loyalty? Don't these colors mean anything to him? They should, by rights and common sense, mean more to him than they do for me
But I'll get him back. Can count on that.
QuoteGOAT ON EVERY FARM
CLARITY ON EVERY BELT
THE MONTEGLAS MANDATE
Much as I'd like to lay it this mess at the feet of self-righteous cacking oathsworn
If I had just been content with my lot and stayed underground, none of this would've happened. I'd still have my hat, still have a bag full of the goods, still have the freedom to come and go as I pleased, wherever I wanted. What the actual fuck was I thinking? What were we thinking?
I can barely keep rent up and now I'm in the hole for fifteen thousand?
And even that ain't the worst of it, no. The worst of it is I'm completely dry, not a grin of the good shit to rub together. And I've gotta stay this way for the near future, because if even one person gets a sniff of my shenanigans that I'll be out of the Krak in a second with that debt staring me in the face.
But I'm alive. I should be thankful. Right?
Fuck.
I could run, but I won't. I made a decision to stick by them, made it without even realizing that it would lead me here. Grime, Skink, the old man, Zee...I chose to ignore the voice that said the only one you can Trust is yourself. They have you, but you have no one. Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.
But it's harder to believe that at night. Head's constantly pounding. Feeling feverish. Skin's almost too sensitive somehow, which makes getting to sleep damn near impossible. Coffee's a shit replacement for wine.
I can't give them a reason. I won't.
I guess I'm giving them a reason. But Simon's comments before all the shit went down reminded me of why.
How'd he put it...
There's a difference between talking and getting something done. And the way he said it made it sound like he was trying to help me, or speak in my best interests, even while he was trying to put down the Lyrist-- because everyone likes doing that. But when I pressed him on what 'getting something done' meant, he got vague. Said something about how it shouldn't involve ending up in a cell, or getting a foot on your neck from the powers that be.
Going along to get along, basically. Or worse-- trying to enact some kind of change from inside the system. It's a pretty lie, and the Moon would smile on it, but it's not the way I can live my life. If everyone's willing to avert their gaze, gossip behind closed doors and wait for someone else to make a fuss, then nothing changes.
Can't think of a worse fate. And that's worth eating some abuse if it can avoid it.
The others-- well, I'm not completely sure where they stand. They back me, but I can't imagine I'm making it very easy and free of drama to be around me...and after this last election, that's what they want. What they need. They deserve it! But I can't give it to them. May have kicked the dust, but some habits are harder to break. Mouthing off is one of them.
Maybe they understand. I'd like to think after this long, after nights like last night, that they do.