I have been long over due a tantrum. I did hope that I would grow out of such things as I aged... But it does not seem I am so lucky. It seems I shall be bad for good. I am as much of a brat now as I ever was - Perhaps even more!
I fume. I crackle and spit like a fire... And my mouth! Oh by the gods, curse my mouth! The venom spills from my lips and blackens the world around me. Curse my wicked mouth and my hateful tongue!

I did not wake in such a mood. I woke and felt quite well actually. I dressed in my new attire and felt rather wonderful. I gave Caritta those darling shoes I had made for her. I idled most of the morning away in The Tarven of Glass, murmuring nondescript matters with Jaymes.
I think it must have been the demon attacks that caused my mood to dip as it did... All around Bran. I am a little conserned about Bran - What if Bran is next to fall?... But I do suppose one could 'What if?' the day away...
Most of the demons were too powferful for me. But another warrior and I did try teaming up upon them, under the watchful gaze of Iron Knight Hojo. We failed miserably. The Demons easily evaded us, and openly smirked, sending us crumpled and crashing to the Life Monuments. The Crier called of another attack near The Wall, upon the side facing the Blackwastes. I moved on to there, and was able to dispatch of some of the Demons... Hojo then sent me a bird, requesting me to return to the first smirking Demon and keep watch over him. I hurtled back through the wastes, to the pass in the mountains where it had lurked. The wretched creature seen me coming, and with another smirk, had turned and scurried away into the mountains. I chased it like a mad-thing, sliding a stumbling upon the rock of the Western Mountains; it seemed to have vanished into thin air!?
I changed tactic, and began walking quietly. Only my ragged breath and the thud of my heart in my ears. The Centuar seemed flightly, and more aggressive than usual... But I could not locate the thing...

I grumbled something about going to rest and recuperate, and slunk off to my usual spot. Jaymes did not try and engage in casual conversation this time, and allowed me to sit and simmer. I grown restless after awhile, and decide to go and stomp upon some termites, in a vain attempted to lighten my mood - Is that what becomes of warriors when they grow ill-tempered? They have the desire to cause physical harm to something? I do think I am growing more brutish by the day.
Infact, I even contemplate whether to use my Spartha or Gladius - I contemplate which 'thing' I would rather use to inflict harm! What am I becoming!?...
After a couple of marcs, and a host of termites later, I am still raging. I recieve a bird from that new Cleric, Jericho, asking if I would be so kind to escort him through The Wall to Bran. Of course I shall Jericho! Of course I shall! A bit of company may brighten my disposition...
It did not work, merely serving as a furthur annoyance. The young Cleric gripped the tails of my cloak as I strode through the darkness of The Wall, occassionally offering 'I can heal ye Sir if you need it?', only to be answered by a snarl of 'I'm fine!' from myself as I sink my Gladius into another shoulder of some poor, unsuspecting Zombie that has came dashing from the shadows expecting an easy meal, only to be met by the boot of a furious warrior.
Perhaps I should just tug him free and leave him in the dark - This I actually did think! I should be drowned I am that wicked!
We made it to Bran. He gained his first blessing. He blessed me and proudly proclaimed that I was the very first to recieve his blessings!... I felt a pang of guilt...

Mmm, I was to discover later... Perhaps I should have left him trembling in the dark.
Wine and cheerful banter with my favourite ladies did brighten my mood. Talk of Hen Night celebrations, idle gossip and such. I do love to sit in my favourite spot, with my favourite people at the close of day. I do think I shall sleep like the dead tonight.