I’ve decided that considering my impending death, I’d begin to write a journal. Already many of the ‘important’ details of my life are recorded in my will, but if any new important events occur, and I don’t have time to get to my will, then I’d like Alutos to have something to work off of. I think that my family deserves to get a nice, long ballad of Gefjon before they found out the new target of their sycophany is Abatuk.
Hm… That could be construed as cruel by some, but personally, I find it amusing. As I have come to realize, dying motivates one to make friendly with the world, and yet that dastardly family of mine doesn’t really seem to deserve it the way they constantly treated me with their incessant nagging and whining and begging… Bah!
But I digress. Today, I met a nice man, a Jero’me. He’s a gardener for Silvermoon; he has been for centuries. He’s an older elf, but still has a good work ethic… I… I think… To be honest, the two of us began drinking quite a bit, and I couldn’t really tell the difference between work and sleeping on the ground while hiccupping drinking songs.
After the alcohol and the headache went away, I ventured to Thunder Bluff. It rained again; the cold doesn’t precisely help my illness, and yet I can’t help but love it. It’s so refreshing! There was a time in my life when thinking of the rain would make me think of evaporation and condensation, followed by a soaking with drove me mad… But my time with the Earthwalkers has taught me much, including the lovely qualities of rain, and the fact that it was a helpful gift from the water spirits. I never would’ve thought that before this.
It grows late, and the days events were short today. I shall write more in the days to come, I suppose.
–Lord Gefjon Kath’demaros Shadowielder
