During the time I was unable to keep this journal of mine up-to-date, the fifth anniversary of the founding of Twilight Serenity occurred. The guild goes well, and recently several have been welcomed into our family. We can all, I think, feel a justifiable sense of pride that the guild not only goes on, but flourishes. And the hall grows too, as Ellyana works hard incorporating people's ideas into the buildings.


Over the past few moon-cycles, a couple of things have come up about the abilities of rogues.

Some time ago during a conversation the subject came up of 'rogue's luck'. I'm not too sure if some think this is a trait that all we rogues have - my own opinion has always been that we make our own luck. I suggested that the one I spoke with consider the following scene - a fairly secluded path through a forest, and a group of bandits in hiding, Someone, not a rogue, comes along the path and is accosted by the bandits. The person draws their blade, the bandits attack - and that unfortunate individual is swiftly slain. Next a rogue comes by, and is in turn accosted by those bandits. Now, one thing rogues can do is talk - try to stop some of them! - and the rogue talks their way out of the situation, and goes on their way unharmed. Was it luck that left that rogue unharmed, or use of another talent? I dare say others could have escaped harm in the same way. So maybe there is no 'rogue's luck', just the outcome that our actions and abilities lead to. So yes, perhaps we do make our own luck, all of us.

Along with many others I was able to attend the Nocturnal Carnival and take part in a couple of events. I decided to enter the dagger-throwing contest. I hope it doesn't sound boastful to say that I'm usually pretty good at handling a blade - I suppose my survival for so long in these lands shows that to be a fact. But come the contest, I could barely hit the target! The problem was that I was using daggers provided for the contest. Like many others, I do a little crafting on my blades before I use them. I know of one rogue who uses small pieces of metal to add weight and to shift the point of balance to his preferred taste, For myself, I achieve a similar result by a small amount of shaving of the hilt and handle. I also hollow out a section of the handle, to make room for a small vial of an antidote to the poison on the blade. I've done this since a slight mishap - or more to the point (no pun intended) - Ellyana's slight mishap, when she was fiddling with one of my blades. One dagger may look like any other, but once the owner carries out their own modifications, the weight and balance, the characteristics of the weapon - these are all matched to the fighting style of the one who owns that blade.



I spent time trying to sketch a few rooms I was trying to design, but without success. I just couldn't get the feel of them right. And I seem to have accumulated far too many pieces of parchment with the beginning or end of a tale or a poem scrawled on them. I must get them in order some time, when I find the inspiration.

It's taken a while, but the copy of all that I and others have written in this little book of mine is finally complete. Quite a task it's been too, not helped by the injury I sustained to my hand. That slowed things up considerably! While I've slaved away making the copy I've often thought it a shame nobody has ever invented some easy way of copying what we write. I even tried soaking a piece of parchment in ink and placing it between two other pieces. I hoped, as I wrote on the top parchment, that the ink on the central piece would be pressed onto the bottom parchment, making a copy of my words. But unfortunately all I was left with was a rather blotched mess! Which, come to think of it, looked only slightly worse than my handwriting. Maybe I'll make further experiments when I have the time.

Speaking of time, I'll have more available now. Over the last few mooncycles I've spent as much time as I could hunting horrors in the Dead Zone. A bleak and dark place, totally inhospitable - but a necessary evil. I've been searching for crystals to take to the machines beneath Port Perfadis in the hope of finding components for a new lockpick. And at last I finally managed to get hold of all of them, and the new pick is safely stowed in a small sheath attached to my belt.

Now I need to get to the task of making sense of the accumulated notes I have of events that happened while I've been too busy to write them here at the time.