Well it seems I have come to the last page of you dear journal, so let us reflect on our many seasons together. I remember a time I wasn't so awesome... wandering about through the streets all broody and dark. And then it hit me, why be not awesome when I can just stop and be awesome instead. And so I am.

Well so long dear journal, it is time I move on to your brother, and break a fresh page anew. You will always be my first dear journal, but I suppose my awesomeness is just too much for one journal alone.

Hopes, dreams, wishes.

They float about, tossed to the winds, like lanterns cast on the final eve of Frostfall.

I have spent some time asking others about their dreams, and all of them are resoundingly selfish. Peace, the end of war, and other such things. At first... well at first they don't sound so selfish, but without war what are we? People don't really realize what war has brought us. It gives blacksmiths jobs, keeps the elucidators busy, the inn's filled, and the potions constantly changing hands. War fuels the economy, and without it we are nothing, and those that rely on war for their very life would be cast to the streets. Merchants would become beggars, innkeepers sleeping in alleys.

No, dear journal, wishing for peace or the end of the war is to wish for our downfall. The demons... Balthazar... and all the beasts that challenge us... they are a necessary evil. They push us forward, challenge us to grow both physically and economically.

So float on little lanterns of hope, and burn your laden wishes so that they may never be heard. Let not the wishes of fools reach the wrong ears, but let us, the people, not find the peace we dream of, but rather remain safe in the life we have now.

Oh... and as for my wish, well that is simple: Purple hair... but I would settle for blue.

Brains at dawn
Brains through the morning
Break at noon
Brains in the afternoon
Brains in the evening
Brains before supper
Brains right after
Brains at the twilight
Brains at the moons light

Every marc brains brains brains...

Brains will haunt my nightmares for cycles to come.

Fall festival is coming, and where I would normally be planning some grand event I instead find myself sharpening my blades. I wonder if it is from loneliness or anxiety that I prepare so.

The darkness stirs, and somehow I doubt this festival will be as joyous as those in the past. I don't see the demons giving us respite, so I'll do my best to be ready.

I think there fore I am.

No blade shall pierce the armor of my mind
No evil shall drown the beat of my heart
No shadow shall blind me from my path
No doubt shall weigh me down and stoop my back
No fury shall plague my tongue, withering my words
No pride shall bind me, tethering me to the now
No sadness shall consume me, lost to the past
No lust shall madden me, forever hungering for a false future

I think there fore I am
And so shall I ever be
The me I truly think I am

The more I think on it, the more I don't like it... hope the commander wakes up soon... need to discuss things with him.

Bonded... not really sure what happened, but it did, and somehow I am now involved in some weird multi-layered relationship with Skils and Marron.

Huh, funny that, an old friend and someone that, despite us fighting along side one another, I know little about.

Gave her a bonding gift last turn, she seemed mesmerized by it. Seems she will be interesting to be around, albeit it may be hard to keep her lust for treasure sated. We will see though.

Dear Journal, I have included my sketches for the Fall exclusives for Zanaan's Fashionables.

Falling Leaves Gown

This custom tailored form fitting gown is pieced together of several overlapping pieces of fabric, each cut into the shape of leaves. At the top, near the shoulders, the leaves are yellow and vibrant, but as they descend down the dress the leaves slowly turn orange, then red, and finally brown near the hemline, which flows gently around the wearers feet.


Elder Oak Suit

This suit, carefully fashioned out of troll bark worked into a fabric like state, fits firmly around the wearer. Accented with an orange leaf shaped kerchief in the breast pocket, it gives the semblance of a tree with naught but one leaf remaining.

Without friends to talk to I find it amazing how truly along I am. It's depressing really, and I feel bad for the few friends I do talk to, because in the absence of a guild I find myself reaching out to them too much. I am sure they must get annoyed by it.

I am getting bored with it all, this whole being alone thing. But for whatever reason that is the role I have found myself in...

Oh once was a man dressed in yella,
Critters of Valorn say he's a tasty fella

Say the first thing he ever saw,
Was a bunny standing only a foot taw,
reached over in the hope to shakes it's paw,
not knowing about survivals first law,
Ooooh and the last he saw was the bunnies maw.

Oh once was a man dressed in yella,
Critters of Valorn say he's a tasty fella

One fine day he trudged in the swamp,
found some ivy and got in a romp,
Ivy thought him weird and full of pomp,
and the man on the ivy did try to stomp
ooooh but the ivy grinned and took a chomp

Oh once was a man dressed in yella,
Critters of Valorn say he's a tasty fella

Oh then he came across a dozen rat
thought they'd make a fancy hat
The rats thought him an annoying brat
So they jumped on him and on his corpse they sat
Ooooh and cleaned his bones of all his fat

Oh once was a man dressed in yella,
Critters of Valorn say he's a tasty fella

Tired and weary he went and read a book
But inside at him a worm did look,
Disgusted he grabbed the tome and shook,
But the worm attacked with teeth like hook,
Ooooh and the worm his life that day he took.

Oh once was a man dressed in yella,
Critters of Valorn say he's a tasty fella