A barely legible page of a journal. The date seems to read "First Age, Year 450".
Naneth says that it is high time that I start writing in a book of my own, instead of spare pieces of parchment found around the home. Though the search for such articles of parchment has been a joy for quite a few years, I am glad to have a proper journal. It is one for my eyes, and my eyes only.
I am happy to have this little book. It is quite simple in it's beauty, but I now that Adar and Naneth must have saved up their coin to surprise me with it. I do not know what I shall write about. The goings on of this city seem quite dry to me. Perhaps I should detail my time with my friends?
There shall be no talk of archery practice here. I would be bored to tears to reread such events. Though mayhaps others would find my failings in the bow amusing. ........ (The writing becomes too faded to be legible for several lines.).....
Perhaps I will gain the courage to talk to her tomorrow, but not today. For now, my little journal, I shall put you to rest. I will pick up my ink and quill on the morrow.
