Dagramir

Ah, the smell of a new book. I promised myself that I would not get caught up in this again. Yet, here I am. Pen and ink to hand, there is little else to do at this hour.

Well, another day. Another deal done. I did not anticipate my stay would last this long, The Captain in Trestlebridge was more than willing to strike up a business deal.

The local whores were hard to miss, there was a time I would not have shunned a night of comfort.

Found:

The floor! Hah!

I've begun to walk! It's not fast and it's not far - perhaps a few steps at most - but I can carry my own weight, unsupported, briefly before I fall flat on my face. It's not much, but it is progress! It's proof positive that I can come out of this entire ordeal intact, that I can get on with my life in spite of them.

A rolled length of neat parchment, clearly expensive paper, denoting some form of wealth. Sealed only by a tied ribbon of crimson, the knot held down by a stamp of black wax. A coiled snake contained within the void-like circular impregnation. Upon unfurling the document, it would read:
 

Dearest Deorda,

The woman leaving Towerglan might have been an alarming sight to behold from a distance, leading a horse and cart from the town, the front of her skirt covered in blood with the bottom few inches torn off. Her expression was hollow, as if she didn’t fully take in her surroundings. One might have thought she’d been attacked by the look of her, but upon closer inspection he might see that none of the blood was hers, for she bore no wounds, and though the bottom of her dress had been ripped away, it had been done so carefully, a clean tear.

Just a couple of inches.

That is all it was, the gap between Narys and Taraborn, but for all it mattered it could have been the Belegaer. He lay there, awake deep in the night, looking at her sleeping form with blurry eyes as he tries to make sense of the storm of emotions within himself.

Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all.

Seems I've spent too often, in recent months, shedding tears and willingly letting my mind shatter, for what was never anything else other than a dead end. Oh, how could I be so foolish. I was better than this. I am better than this. So why am I crying right now? Where is there still tears lining my bruised cheeks.

Found:

Buttocks and failure.

Well, that was unexpected in every sense. After Dagramir's angry departure of a few days ago, I had thought he'd not return. I had thought him done with me. It had seemed that his jealousies - misplaced, unnecessary and ill-founded as they were - had nevertheless driven him away for good and I was not entirely certain that it was a bad thing.

It had been quite a peaceful little morning in the town of Towerglan. Home to the mercenary company known as 'The Bloody Dawn', and many of its forces. All was quiet, and serene. Birds happily floated their way across the valley, shifting from branch to branch in their usual daily routine. Lovely chirps being heard, as the sun rose over the nearby hills, beating down upon a picturesque village. And then, accompanying the gentle rush of water from the nearby waterfall, was a bang. Followed by another. Steady beats of metal ringing out through the valley.