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  1. Journals

Rossi's Journal

Player Character Journal
2022-04-29

Day 1 - Saltmarch outskirts

A well-worn journal lies open and unguarded before you. From the recipes scribbled into the margins and the occasional grease stain, you surmise this is Rossi’s. While you ordinarily might hesitate to read someone else’s journal, you sense somehow the paladin wouldn’t mind. That she tends to (loudly) dictate to herself as she writes is strong evidence of this.

Hidalgo’s gone missing… which I suppose I should have expected when I left him alone in that forest to graze. He’s a noble animal though, and I’m sure we’ll find each other again, Tyr willing.

Day - 1 Empty Net Tavern

Carefully folded between the journal’s pages is an obvious bar napkin replete with ale stains and other fluids that don’t bear contemplation. An autograph, ostensibly from “Axel” occupies most of one side. Scrawled in the other is what appears to be a journal entry penned with an unsteady hand.


Got into a bar fight. I think. The details are a little hazy but there was this huuuge priest and a tiny devil —sorry, tiefling— a scary looking fighter guy (he turned out to be pretty cool!) and THE Axel! Yes, that Axel (he’s sitting next to me now!) We stopped the other bar patrons from hurting themselves by beating them until they couldn't fight anymore. Tyr would be proud.


An odd thing happened after though: I’m not sure why but the tiefling wanted to start a fight with Axel. She seemed pretty dangerous but somehow I had a hunch she didn’t want to hurt him… not really… so the giant priest and I did what we could to get them to talk it out later.


For now, some bigwig asked to see everyone that helped to stop that bar fight. Hope they’re going to feed us. My purse is weirdly light.

Day 2: On Road to Manor

You catch a faint hint of woodsmoke and plums as you turn the page. The pen strokes are interrupted at regular, rhythmic intervals, reminding you of that ride on a damaged cart unevenly pulled by a single horse. Rossi must have found time scribble some notes before her nap


Between the bar fight, an assassin attacking in the middle of the night and getting waylaid by bandits, I think I’ve seen more fighting over the last few hours than I have in months. Paladins are supposed to fight evil, so doing more of that must mean I’m finally doing something right. Probably.


So some background: Somehow, I’ve found myself traveling with a with a priest, a former assassin, a nobleman and a wrestler (dear lord, it’s Axel no less. How much did I drink last night?!). We apparently agreed to pool our efforts and do some work for the locals in exchange for a home. Now that I’m sober and well rested (bless you, Laraella), I can say that upon reflection I’m not entirely sure what I’m even going to do with real estate. At least it’ll be nice to have a place to hang my helm while I do Tyr’s work in this town.


On the up-side, the group I’m with is an interesting one, with an odd mix of courage, kindness and merciless justice. More importantly, I’ve met groups like this before. They attract trouble like honey draws in bears. And a Paladin’s job is to be where trouble is. Probably.