Memoirs of Sarion Mai

[Tyriul Thorne]

*The book is bound in goldleaf and backed in rich mahogany, somewhat resembling a small lockbox*

~Memoirs of Sarion Mai~

(23rd April)

Everything I had returned to Britannia for was within reaching distance, today was the penultimate day. Nothing unusual seemed to happen, I woke up and had my morning bread and boiled ham but I felt a warm sense of reassurance in everything I did, nothing would dampen my spirits.

Of course that was until my blasted horse roamed free again, typically in the middle of Despise as I was getting intimately acquainted with a Lizardmans war mace. I don't trust horses, never have done - I don't trust their faces and their damn hooves, permanent shoes? That kind of commitment to footwear is just weird.

Never the less, today was a good day. Anticipation was setting in so I department from my wandering early to hit the tavern, good job I didn't start writing there - this bloody book cost me enough gold and wouldn't have appreciated it being covered in piss and vomit.