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[My friend RuitalYour efficiency continues to impressThis is a thorough accounting and perhaps unnecessaryI have little need for half of thisSee to this as a counter - 5% - 5376]

My friend Ruital

Your efficiency continues to impress

This is a thorough accounting and perhaps unnecessary

I have little need for half of this

See to this as a counter - 5% - 5376

Hide

Brazier - 4 - 600
Two wooden chairs - 400
Fancy wooden desk - 500
Wooden throne - 900
Ahsfolk Bookshelf - 1500
1 Painting - 600
1 Wooden Couch - 800
8 stools - 400
3 round tables - 750
2 rectangular tables - 520
1 bed - 500 dinar
1 easel 200
1 Slab - 200
1 bench - 800 dinar
1 Thick Wooden Desk - 500
1 Bulletin Board - 300
1 Sign 2 - 150
1 Ramieton Rug 400 Dinar
1 Carpet Setter, 990 dinar

11,010 dinar 539-    5120

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Von Erich

——

Ritz was a very special character to me and I've never experienced this kind of emotion or catharsis in a video game. I'll start by saying I love this community - the players, the team, everyone. I've gone back and forth on writing this, debating whether I had it in me to see her to the end or to simply allow it to happen off-screen.

I've decided on the latter as it became a bit much for me to hold space for the character's mindset, and it was difficult for me to find motivation to play her following the death of (almost) all her friends.

She was my 2nd PC on this server, after a small stint biting off more than I could chew with a Modini Detective (in hindsight, not the best idea for a first character). I was greatly inspired by Manta Wholt and wanted to interact with this culinary world, and thought maybe he could use some competition.

"Pretzel Fencer" was one of my first thoughts, match that with the thematic relevance of a fencer using chef knives/short swords, and now we're cooking. I had also mis-thought that cooking was an intelligence skill and believed there would be some mechanical cohesion with an INT forward fencer. But alas, I thought wrong. Oh well - it was still a blast.

I'm happy I got to level 10 and was able to see the Pretzel Fencer in action, but I wasn't able to hold it for long. It's hard keeping a mentally unwell, fire and blood adjacent chef alive for extended periods of time (is what I tell myself to cope and refuse to learn from my mistakes).

She really took off, at least for me, following Manta's death at Vae Mojem. I had to dip out before the point of no return, and I decided to lean into that as some sort of djinn-related PTSD - and well, that's where her journal picks up. I wanted to touch on the cooking-brooking trope/meme from a different angle and explore the ideas of what happens in the wake of tragedy, trauma, and grief - an unfortunate reflection of my life at the time.

One thing I regret is not writing a cookbook, but that's something I'll likely pursue on a future PC!

Special shout out to these PCs - and so many more:

Manta
The Gold League
Grenth
Cort and Selwyn
Luther
Calliope
Garen
And a certain Makhyoon

I hope you all enjoyed her as much as I did, even if a lot of things didn't pan out. What can I say, she had commitment issues.

Without further adieu - Ritz Orton:

——

[The sun sets over a remote canyon, in the distance a great fire illuminates the sky - a vast plume of smoke, dancing with the illusion that the demon lingers longer than it ought.]

——

Stats and Loot

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The First Dinner

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Post-Mojem

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——

[The smoke grows thick in the air, and the source of the blaze becomes apparent. The fuel unclear, the bones of a well-suited caravan turn to ember and ash. A set of tracks approaches the eye of the storm. Another set of tracks departs into the dunes.]

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The Murder

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Mastering the Art of Cooking

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Gerg and the Oven Spirits

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——

[The ground turns to slush underfoot, the sand is wet. A thick, viscous slosh. Any further would spell doom, but in the near distance - just a glimpse, a flash. A door closes.]

——

A Clockhand's Birthday

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Vengeance

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Answers

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[longer]

——

[The penmanship is manic, hurried - frightened.]

Two months. I think? Two months on the road.

It feels much longer, it's different without her.

But I finally know what I have to do. I finally found her.

There's only one thing, and I don't know if I can. Is it worth it?

It has to be worth it.

——

[The journal is lost in a fire.]

——

Taking some time off for a couple of weeks. Probably be back 6/2 or so.

[Maribeh 9, 7789]

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Maribeh 9, 7789

Ten days now, since I last wrote in here. Ten days.

I don't even know where to begin, to cover everything that's happened these last ten days.

I keep saying - I don't know where the days go. But I know. And now they know too.

——

I've been getting closer to Calliope lately, and maybe a little more distant from Garen. But it's not as risky for her, she's got the protection of the Priory - and she's not one to put herself in harm's way. It'd only be a matter of time for Garen.

I think he senses it too though. It might have been a bad idea to tell him.

Although - the three of us did go out to aid the Accord camp south of the Well. Aurelio, Jed, and Onion joined us with blessings from Sister Jamei. Maybe there's no reason to worry about Garen.

But speaking of Onion - I'll have to hire her soon, for a little song dedicated to Casa Manta- [There's a moment of further consideration.] and maybe even as a resident performer.

And Aurelio. He was in one of my dreams recently, along with Vorazol and Saman. I don't remember much, but there were three other shadowy figures in a dark room. It was right before the Makhyoon was caught and tried for necromancy. He even said something to Aurelio as he was being escorted to the Halls - about how Vorazol hates him even in death.

[The pen lingers in thought before proceeding.] I'm glad the Sergeant made it out alive.

——

I made a picnic basket for Maewyn, a little something in between all the prep for the tournament. Despite all the delays, it should finally be happening tomorrow.

I'm rather excited about it - and I'm sure they won't make a fuss of it, but I hope the vendor permit doesn't cause any problems. It's dated for the original tournament schedule, but they were the ones who rescheduled it.

And Tal is officially my Sous Chef. He's shown his worth and I figure it's been time enough. I gave give one of my Deluxe Chef Pans as a gift - I'm sure he'll put it to good use.

——

[The penmanship is shaky and hesitant.]

Another curious dream.

That orc again.
An ogre.
A hawk.
A ghoul.

What are they all doing together?

——

[Tammuz 29, 7789]

——

Tammuz 29, 7789

It's been a week now - a lot can happen in a week.

The Makhyoon has returned from a pilgrimage, and with him - cold winds and whispers of the Wronged.

That poor goblin woman. I had only met her a time or two, and though she was unmistakably a goblin, there was still something about her that would have you guessing. Already there were threats and ultimatums against her. But I didn't think they'd be so quick to act.

Not to mention all the usual election drama. A lot can happen in a week.

——

I'm starting to get familiar with many of the new faces. There's a few that I'm comfortable working with. That Nadiri with the golems - Kaelen. Keiji. Some of the new Recluta - Flint, Su Bi.

Hans is the ranking officer in the 4th now. Sergeant Gilbracht. Been that way for a few weeks, he deserves it.

The tournament is in a few days and I need to make sure I've got a good menu. Even though they asked me to serve food - I still had to pay for some absurd one time permit. It wasn't much, but it's the principle of it. Whatever - I just hope everyone's hungry enough to make it worthwhile.

——

[Sleepy penmanship crawls across the page.]

Another one.
Different.

It's cold.
Dark.

And there it stood - looming.

A great orc - pale and crimson.
Lifeless.

I'm haunted by that jungle. That evil - turning our friends against us as they perished.

But there was no jungle in this nightmare-

——

[Tammuz 22, 7789]

——

Tammuz 22, 7789

I couldn't place it - why the Well has felt so different. But I know why - he was is in my dreams last night, they both were. I think I didn't want to accept it, that he was gone. That he died out there. I keep thinking he's just busy with the election, that I'll run into him in the plaza, like we always do. Maybe that's why I didn't go to the League meeting. Because I knew, and then it would be real. It was always real with him. I wish- [A single tear stains the page.] I'm sorry I never told you Cort.

——

There was another dream too, less vivid - less [The pen ponders for a moment.] real. Two beetles, fighting each other over something. Was I one of the beetles? All I could do was watch.

Sometimes I wonder if I can still feel anything. I've been woke up with some new bruises. I don't know when they could have happened. I've felt numb ever since Bet Nappahi. Is it guilt again? Shame? Because I couldn't be there when the ones I love die.

Again.

——

[Tammuz 21, 7789]

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Tammuz 21, 7789

Another four days gone by. About the average we'd stay on a job. About the time we were into that ten day job.

A lot can happen in four days.

Cogs birthday party - hosted at Casa Manta. Food, drink, gifts. Games - riddles, raffles, and a cock fight of all things. More of a duel I suppose, it was Nibbs and Ramez polymorphed into chickens after all.

Then the fashion show. Not a lot of chefs in show, just me and Acolyte Dora. She made a lot of bread, from a little dough. But my Mango Bloom Salad made it, and my Shoe Buns are on sale now too. I modeled again for Bashir - an outfit dedicated to Narwen. And Asherias was modeling too - a beautiful dress made all the more on a beautiful woman. Sometimes I wonder- [The thought is struck away.]

And then some time in the kitchen with Tal. He's turning out to be quite the chef. In time, I'm sure he'd make for a great Sous.

All this, and yet I've found myself spending more and more time with Calliope. It's nice to see her about. Brewing potions and crafting wands - keeping those of us who defend our home well stocked.

——

[There's some apprehension in the ink.]

Love is a strange thing. A luxury in this desert, and a rare thing to find among the ash. Rarer even, in its truest form. But perhaps - a necessity, nonetheless.

I told Garen - about my feelings toward Calliope, and my feelings toward him. Why do I feel the need to keep things from him. To protect him? To protect myself? I don't think I would have, if Peyton hadn't encouraged me to.

I'd have understood if he- [A moment of contemplation.] but, I think he understood. How does one begin to explain - the nature of loving. He asked that I tell her of him, and I should will.

Love is a strange thing. I hope he understands.

——

[Manic penmanship scribbles about the page.]

It's on fire
All of it
The jungle

It's on fire

Where is he
I can't find him

Through the fire
And the flames

There he is
Weeping

Burning

——

[Tammuz 17, 7789]

——

Tammuz 17, 7789

I'm finding it harder and harder to bring myself to write here. The days pass in the blink of an eye, and I'm floating through the aftermath in a daze.

There's some sense of normalcy though - Cogs left me a letter asking to host his birthday party, the fashion show and cook off is in a few days, the Well buzzes along, the Wheel turns, and ever forward we move.

But things will never be normal again.

——

[The penmanship is unsteady - a hint of distress.]

I told him everything. Everything. I didn't want to - but he had to know I had to tell him. I warned him, and now he knows. If he stays - then he stays, and maybe- [There's some amount of hesitation in the ink.] I won't blame myself this time. After all - he knows, I warned him, and he's choosing to stay.

I don't know what came over me - grief, fear. The thoughts of her - how she pulled me in the first time, the way our lips met. Did I want him, or did I miss her? I don't know what came over me.

——

[Some incomprehensible scribbles scratch against the page - from a distance, the vague shape of flames engulf a central shadowy figure.]

——

[Tammuz 15, 7789]

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Tammuz 15, 7789

With the War over, more refugees than ever have flocked to the Well. This place I've called home feels so different now. Is it even home anymore? Is home a place, or is it the people you make it with?

[The pen idles in thought against the page.] I don't have it in me to find a new home.

——

It wasn't just my friends that died at Bet Nappahi. Sayburgh had perished just after the first assault. Some deadly poison that brought her low before she could even act. [There's a moment of hesitation.] I'm not sure she deserved that.

And Vorazol. Caught between two of those terrible voids as the orcs split our lines. I witnessed it with my own eyes as Rhuk Nor and I were separated and forced to retreat. There was nothing I could do, and even if I could- [Another moment of hesitation.] I wouldn't.

Vengeance at last for the Flamebringer.

——

[Some sleepy penmanship scribbles across the page.]

Where am I
How did I get here
Who are these people

This is not the Krak de Roses
This is not the place I call home

By the Wheel, what have I done

——

[Tammuz 14, 7789]

——

Tammuz 14, 7789

All my friends are dead. Total Victory.

Where do I begin-. [The pen lingers for some time.]

At least I still have a home. At least he made it back, and she's still here too. But so many more didn't. A single ashsail made it home. Maybe there's still more that got separated during the fall of the Kusatma. Doubtful Maybe.

Where do I begin? Again.

Cort- [A tear stained scribble marks the page.]

Total Victory.
But at what cost-

——

[The penmanship is shaky and distressed.]

I can't sleep. It's deafening.
I can hear it.

The Jungle.

Their voices. Their cries.

They die.
They rise.
They die.

And again.

——

——

[Several blank pages are stained with mud, blood, and all manner of detritus.]

——

Will be out of town starting tomorrow 4/3 through Sunday 4/6.

And likely less active than I have been throughout the next 2.5 weeks.

If Ritz is needed, I'll check for letters and still be around the Discord, can work around scheduling time if she's needed.

[Hziran 29, 7789]

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Hziran 29, 7789

Something grave has happened. An Assembly of sorts, in audience of the Princess heir. A condemnation of Kha'esh and a seizure of Arslan - the Jackal did not take kindly to the message.

Something is brewing. And it's not going to be good.

——

[The penmanship is manic, filled with energy.]

I saw her again, Calliope. What little time she had away from her duties in the Priory, and I caught a glimpse of her in the Krak. I almost couldn't believe my eyes - but I'd never forget that face, that tenacious gait, that flash of red under the cowl.

We caught up for a time, it's been almost a month or so since I'd seen her. But it was still as if no time had passed at all. I took her to the restaurant, and showed her how well the oven's been working - for old time's sake. Oven spirits, who would have thought.

Then Garen showed up. Gerg made an appearance too.

I've missed her. More than I've been willing to admit. I hope I can see her again.

——

[Hziran 28, 7789]

——

Hziran 28, 7789

There's been some commotion. Rowan's made another attack - and then he made it clear why. The trees - those magnificent wonders at the Abulmahhu. Their destruction, an affront to the Wyld and blasphemy against Her. In less words, but the sentiment felt. I- [There's a moment of reflection.] understand. I saw it with my own eyes. Even in the laments of the Kusatma, guilt and despair in its wail. This is what brought the Well under His gaze. This was the stone cast against Rowan - the Wyld only acts in turn.

——

The Sukaitza came by the restaurant for a dinner. It was Garen's first shift too.

It was quite enlightening. Who'd have thought to find an Asterabadi philosopher among them. It gave me a lot to think about, and some reading to do too.

They seemed to like my food though, everyone except for what appeared to be the ranking officer. I dont think I got her name- [A moment of thought.] Lekubarri? I need more fish.

——

[The penmanship is sleepy and loose.]

A dream of darkness

In the distance, a flame
All around me - cries of anguish.

And then silence

Darkness.

——