Jagged-edged parchment lays compressed between two pieces of shark hide, bound together by a cord of the same grey hide.
Wednesday, 01 April 2015
Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!
This is the eighth turn I've dealt with this blasted illness. To my knowledge, nothing has afflicted anyone in the lands as long. Every passing marc reminds me of just how fragile I am. This feeling of weakness is revolting. Sickening.
It is my hope to take Emilia to the temple this turn, but as the shadows retreat I find it less likely that will occur.
Something good did occur this turn, though. The Crier was going on and on about some buried gold. I found it.