Well, I suppose I thought I'd never have to do this again, but I think it would ease my mind to sit and write for a short while. So I shall.What can I say? I've been back a month and some things haven't changed. More than most things, though, have. This damned gimp leg keeps me from doing much of what I would like, it takes quite a bit of strength to even walk on it anywhere for a length of time. I spend quite a lot of time at rest, in my room at the Manor, which Alterio graciously offered me.It's almost hard to believe, sometimes, that a second or third chance is so deserved, and even now I barely chance to spend my time making the most of it. Sad.I really should work up my courage to speak with Tika. Damned fool pride keeping me locked up, but it feels like there's nothing I can do. I've decided I can't stay. I really just can't. I think I'm going to save up to buy a ship and some supplies and then live on the sea for months at a time. I can return on a few days' notice instead of three weeks, and I don't have to worry much about the goings-on or involve myself otherwise.Selfish? Of course. For the best? Probably so.Well...I suppose the hour is growing late. I feel like an old man, but I should get to bed.::Carelessly, he leaves the quill and parchment on the small desk at his bedside without so much as signing, writing, or otherwise signifying his name to it, simply letting the quill fall to the page and then leaving it all be.::

-Journal Entry 3 June, Ben Calkane

A young girl, seeming to be perfectly content with the hustle and bustle around her of the early morning docks, sets to work on the task of a journal since the people at the Department of Tourism were so kind as to provide her with materials to do so. She has taken up post among a generous pile of crates, a rough looking cat with rumbled orange fur threads its way through her slightly swinging legs…

It seems Mince has decided not to leave with Garia’s ship after all. I’m glad of course, of the company of family, but I have already warned him that if he’s caught he’ll be hauled off to some animal prison. He does not pay me any mind naturally and wanders even now trying to charm fish from a stand nearby.

In exchange for sharing a bit of Garia’s powered—used to ward off sand mites, I was welcomed into a fair group of others passing their night on the beach, safety in numbers and all. They were a lovely lot, if a bit rowdy. In addition, a young boy with them possessed the most splendid voice. However, it will change soon enough I suspect.

I was woken sometime just after sunrise by a tentative pulling on my satchel. Through the slit of my eyes, I could see that a very large person was attempting to extend to me the kindness of removing the jar of power I had shared earlier in the evening. Seeing as how the silhouette of the fellow was rather large against the pale light of the early sun, I thought it best to continue my mimicry of sleep. It was a small loss but it will mean I’ll not be able to spend many more nights that are comfortable on the beach, as I had planned.

Miss Gwendallin and Miss Rosalyn have been just splendid! Ever so busy with their plans for the theater yet have found time to offer kindness to a stranger. The requested script is coming a long nicely, although I am considering alterations due to Ky’s criticisms. Though I’ll not ever give him the satisfaction of knowing his complaints were the reasons behind the changes Nonetheless, he had a point. Upon rereading what I’ve already written, it does have very little to draw a male audience and that just won’t do. I will keep the main premise though and drag Ky--kicking and screaming if need be—to the play simply to prove the point that it is indeed a good story.

Speaking of Ky, but he did have me in such a mood last eve. I swear the man is all nerve and no tact.

“…Or were my looks distracting you from listening?”

What utter nonsense! I did have the victory of the night though I can honestly say that I have rarely seen anyone act as oddly as he did after the fact.

-Journal Entry 11 June, Laklynn

Papa warned us long ago that there was little point in striving for perfection of life, that it had previously been done a thousand times over and all we need do is look out over the railing of the ship to glimpse it.

I exhausted most of the morning following Mince around the docks, giving little deliberation to any tangible destination. The afternoon found us talking with a group of …a few scribbles then the flowing script continues working woman. Needless to say I did most of the talking and Mince demanded scratches and food bits. They really do have the most colorful stories to tell, the women I mean. There was one young girl that my heart went out to, though she has none to blame but herself for her circumstances. Nonetheless, it must be a complicated thing, the physical aspect of love.

There is a thin line between romance and sexual encounters, one that I tread very carefully in my vocation. It is quite a thorny situation, to be able to illustrate in fantastic detail the emotional and even spiritual aspects that lovemaking entails, without essentially having experienced such a thing firsthand. There have been many a time when just such a thought has come to the lips of one of my colleagues in an attempt to enlighten me. Silver tongue does not even begin to describe their skill of persuasion.

Luckily, I have a trick of my own to counter such enchantments. Once they have finished their retelling of the magic, mysteries and passions that I am so cruelly denying myself, men seem quite put off when I only take out my quill and ask if they may be quoted. Or asking if they would mind a bit of their lyrics being sent to their wife, since they were full of such stunning and beautiful sentiment—they ought not go to waste. This system has served me well in the past and I have no doubt that it shall continue to.

The evening eventually came with a lovely sunset made of scattered rose petals over the glittering waves. If I were good with a brush—which unfortunately I am not, I would have begged the gods for more time with which to render the scene to canvas. Seeing as how I have no such gift, I will try to do it justice on these pages.

It started with a simple glow on the horizon, just a subtle hint of cherry along the peeks of wave. Then the fingers of wine began to carefully caress their way over the gemstone waters. Even the open sea with her infinite sky holds no flame to the exhilarating magic presented when land and ocean serve the purpose of playground to the setting sun. The feather clouds traipsed over a pale violet nest in which the fiery gold phoenix slowly nestled.

The night skies here are just as startling, but I fear I’ll be up all eve if I begin on that and there is only so much driftwood that can be tossed idly into the fire at my side.

In due course, I made the walk to the dome. Ky was at his usual table being gloomy as ever. I thought perhaps our parting the night before had possibly put him in a mood. When asked, his answers lead to a bit of discomfort on both sides. I would never have done what I had if I had only known that he never… Well I do suppose there is a bit of explaining in order.

He had been baiting me all of the previous eve, knowingly or not, about my lack of skill at essentially everything. I made the comment that I in fact had little else to fall back on besides feminine wiles. Once said, the remark seemed to bring him fair a bit of awkwardness indeed. Not one to let a reaction such as that go unnoticed I later used it against him when responding to more of his taunts with a plain kiss. It was nothing worth noting I assure you. Although… I had not expected his lips to be so soft with all the harshness that he forces past them. Furthermore, I certainly did not expect the reaction that followed. He seemed to be stunned, I may even be so bold as to say shocked. All and all it comes down to our conversation tonight. Seems he had never been kissed before. If I had known that I would never have done so with such abandon or ease.

Things did eventually end well and for once not on a discomfited note. Ky was kind enough to offer to walk with me back to the beach. Gwen made a quick appearance and I invited her along. She regrettably had been hard at work during the day and declined courteously to instead get some much needed rest. Ky and I talked about his time with some army and of his escape there from. It brought back painful memories but I was careful not to allow that to show and only asked more of his life. Once seeing me safely to the beach and taking the time to build up a little fire, he took his leave with a rare smile.

Elliot will be in my dreams tonight I know and my continued writing only delays the inevitable. Therefore, I shall end now and find fitful sleep for a few hours.

-Journal Entry 12 June, Laklynn

It had been an interesting evening. Entering into the Pleasure Dome for the first time was both exciting and lack luster in its effect. If it were possible for both to happen. The stories he had been told, Ezra assumed there would be wild bar fights and all kinds of illegal activities. None were present. The nude dancing girls were a bit of a surprise since most of the girls he had seen in his life were hookers or street urchins. The exciting part came when for his own amusement the half-breed made a coin seem to appear from behind a young kid’s ear. The kid’s Grandfather, a Knight of some standing he guessed, was also rather amused and offered him a job watching after the child.

“Mother would be proud now”, his tone reflecting the emotions brought with that statement.

His thoughts rested on his departed mother and he fiddled with his moon pendant has he thought of her. Sidestepping the feelings in front of me he went on to tell me the rest of his evening. He had met a very pretty lady but could not remember her name. She had seemed sad he explained but never got the chance to ask her why since as he said he had duties to do. There had been another woman earlier he had remember her name was like a flower. Asking him about her, I think it was Rose but again he was not very sure. Mouse, a dear friend of mine, was always terrible at names. He seemed excited about the prospects of going back. As well as I do. Being not able to walk one tends to get bored sitting here all day. Therefore, to those of you who may read this at some point I am Jester, Friend to Mouse and his words on paper. He seems to think that I write with a certain flare. Maybe, maybe not. I just wish he would not be so embarrassed about the fact his writing is as he says very poor. He has wonderful tales and if he would swallow his pride, I could teach him. I think I will leave this part our as I read it back to him. To those here ado till I hear more of the Exploits of the great Mouse.

-Journal Entry 12 June, Ezra/aka Mouse, as written by Jester

Dear Journal,

It looks like I'm becoming a patron of the fine arts. I decided that I would help out Rosalyn and Gwen by paying the construction cost of the theatre. I actually got a letter from Xanthia, I thought I'd never hear from her again. Hopefully, she's doing well. Then there's Cipriana. I have not seen her in ages, but I sure hope she's alright. I really miss her. She's like my best friend on this isle, the only person that seems to understand me. Well, that's all for now.

Eden Arcane

-Journal Entry 12 June, Eden Arcane