User:Lhynard/Characters/Brace/Journal/04

 Shieldmeet, Year of Wild Magic Another night with barely any sleep. My wounds from the battles with the goblins do not seem to be healing well. I am in pain, but I rather prefer it to my thoughts of loss.

I am alone in a room at an inn in Loudwater. I have never traveled to this city before. It is a town really, but it has an interesting, quaint character to it. It is called the City of Grottoes, and the title is fitting.

The holiday is to be celebrated today, and I suspect that my new companions will be happy to join the festivities, but I cannot bear to take part in it. My memories of Shieldmeets spent with Kethra are still too fresh. Indeed, I left most of them at the tavern next door last night, without a drink for my stomach. The elven maiden followed me to the inn, however. She seems to have been surprised that I speak a little Elvish, though when I spoke more of it, it was clear that she was disgusted by my poor accent.

I have little else to write; I know not why I even bothered taking up the quill this morn. I think that I shall venture out to find the herbalist who I am told lives at the end of Goldenrod Street and reconnect with my brother later in the day&hellip;. ~Brace