A book bound in a material not unlike Broutac's cloak. It too changes color from a Brown, to a Bronze, to a Gold and then Black and back again. The top and bottom are hinged by thick metal like material. In the center of the face of the cover sits a strange looking lock. A set of five holes sits there as if fingers should be placed there. being the journal of a rogue it may not be advisable for a stranger to try this mechanism.
Saturday, 10 November 2012
I walk these lands in search of something. Attainable or not....sometimes the price is worth paying. Even if that price is ones life. But is ones soul worth the price? Is not someones soul the thing that makes up their character? Do I not wish for others to see me as having good character? Or do I even care? Well if my actions speak louder then words....then I must care. For everyday I thrive on helping those I can. Of lending a hand when it is needed. Of lending an ear whenever it is needed. Of offering my heart and soul to those closest to me. Does that not prove my character? Do I want admiration? Do I need accolades? Do I need to be praised?
No......I need to be needed.
Broutac Brunt posted @ 19:42 -
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