:: Taking a break from his duties at the Market, he sits on a turned-over crate in the back room, wipes his bloodied hands on his apron, and writes as he does every so often, in his Journal ::

One might find it silly, but I miss the sure signs of summer, as they were back home. The disappearance of the smoky smells of the salted meats we'd used all through winter and spring; the bringing up from the downstairs crates of attire of seasonal weights, Mother having the help picking through the garments to see what could be salvaged, what the worms didn't eat and what would fit, then being sorted to see what was fit for a Silverton to wear. The rest would be given to the less fortunate.

Nae, here it's the clean, salty air and the absence of the heavier weights year-round. It coddles us, I think. I've lost the something of a hardiness I had, I don't think I'd survive if the temperatures plunged. Although I feel better physically, with the fresh foods available all the time, and the sun's warmth in which to bask, I wonder if my mind isn't corroding as metals do. I've yet to find the wherewithal to go out and get myself a woman. Or am I simply not ready after the disaster back home?

I guess, when all is said and done, I am fearful. Fearful of the women that might be.. had.. in the Den of Sin, I can almost hear my Father still, admonishing me for even thinking of visiting such a place, I could sense the disapproval I'd be sure to face, "It's nowhere for respectable people to go." But that would just be based on rumor. I know it's more of a meeting hall for the Isle's veterans and the newcomers. I know places on the mainland that are far more notorious than the Pleasuredome.

I do need to get out more often, away from the racks of bloody dead animals that I'm cutting into saleable chunks. I've said it before, I know, yet fail to act on it. I am tired, and I am lonely, and it's of my own doing.

I need a life.

Lord Embrich Silverton
-Journal Entry 13 July, Lord Embrich Silverton

While in Pleasuredome, I was confronted by a dubious character named Donk who inquired if I had sent a message to Sir Aleterio Carrazi II. After replying yes and what of it I get handed a scroll. Upon reading the contents I decide I should do something with it befitting its written content. But, as I have not yet found a dung heap to throw it into, I think I will send out a double reply

-Journal Entry 13 July, Beljaron Polgarath

Sleeping in the open night air appeals to the ogre in me but I can’t say the human in me likes it much with this tropical sticky weather. What little sleep I am getting is plagued with a mixture of sights and experience from here combined with those of what I can only guess are scraps of memory trying to return. It seems I have inadvertently placed myself in the middle of some half-lit feud and it appears that I have become cannon fodder for such. The human in me fears that my ogre instincts are taking over while my memory is out of place. I strain to control the beast inside but the thick blood courses as molten steel through my vessels. Intellect and self-restraint do not always win out against a beast that has a heady ego for his personal honor and takes the merest slight as a personal attack. I am sure that as soon as all my faculties are in order the ogre may be placed in check or at least be used more effectively.
-Journal Entry 14 July, Beljaron Polgarath

Having been informed by Donk that Alterio Carazzi II was last seen with rye spewing frm his nose andthanking me for a well needed laugh,I turn to leave pleasuredome before allowing myself the oppurtunity to dismember something.

I can not believe he laughed at my letter. he may refer to himself as sir, so I shall dub him Sir hommus erectus phallus.

Now walking throught the Bazaar I check to see if the elf has left a reply.

seething after reading this rant, I retire to form a reply

-Journal Entry 14 July, Beljaron Polgarath

Dear Journal,

It seems what is left of my life is crashing down around me, and I have no one to blame but myself.I'll always love Xanthia, no matter what happens now, even if she hates me...I'll have to live with that. I'd give anything just to hold her in my arms again. I've made far too many bad choices, far too many excuses...I'll try my best to change that.Sometimes I wonder if I should just give up. Rosalyn told me it may take a miracle to change things. I can only hope and pray. Gods help me...

Eden Arcane
-Journal Entry 14 July, Eden Arcane

:: Having been brought home rather against his will by one of his men due to his fatigue, he rebels in his own right by forcing himself to stay awake just to put his clouded thoughts to parchment ::

I've been neglecting my Janie..

Lord Morgan must think me some dimwit..I saw him enter as my guard was ushering me out the door, yet I was too tired to give up much fight. I should've done so and spoken properly to him; I have respect for that man and wish not to keep him waiting..

My own father is being a pain in the arse, he wishes me to go to Achethe to personally ensure that Silvana's arrived back in the country and that she is banished from the Manor..

Alkane and Mia's birthday falls this Tuesday and I've not even seen to the proper celebration of Mairin's day..

And oh my Gods, Janie's birthday passed as well.. Come to think of it, I've still not married her properly..

I forgot to send the bag of gold to Nimiane this month for the first time..I'll send two in the morrow..

Ben is looking at men in a way that makes my skin crawl..

Xanthia sent me a gift that was unnecessary, I wasn't fishing for thank-yous or gifts from the girl, I simply wish her to get her head righted..

Rosalyn is spreading tales that the Pleasuredome has an infestation trouble..

And to top it all off, an Ogre has chosen me for his quill-pal. Wonderful.

I am going to bed. NOW.

Sir Alterio A. Carazzi II
Khlamar himself knows the date, I know not. I am too tired to worry about things like Calendar. As stated above, I've already missed important dates. Bah.
-Journal Entry 15 July, Sir Alterio A. Carazzi II

Sitting at Lyrias' desk before she returns home for the night, he finds her journal and a quill to go along with it. Since he already shares her bed, he figures why not share her journal. Besides, only this once will ever it happen, right? Right. He puts quill to parchment.*

Well, I've made a decision. I'm tired of doing things for people. I'm going to be selfish, damnit.

Too many old friends are gone. Too many of the old ways have changed. The isle's general consensus is ignorance and stupidity. This reminds me of the tavern of old days, sometimes, way back when we wished for a better way of life. Where is this life, does it even exist? I have yet to find it if it does.

Men in the dome are stupid, almost all of them unworthy for even the slightest conversation. The only one I even feel bad about is Lord Morgan. He'll be stuck to realize as I have that he has nobody worthy to speak with. I feel bad leaving that intelligent man all alone on the island.

Women in the dome are bitches. Every last one of them, save a very select few, are better than everyone in their minds and better than no whore on the docks in reality. I refuse to even speak with those whores anymore. If only more were like Jane, Mairin, Lyrias, even Cipriana was remotely reasonable in her views of herself at one time. These were tolerable, even sometimes pleasant women to be around. What happened to their kind?

I -do- feel bad leaving Lyrias like this, but there's nothing that can be done about it. I've decided to be selfish, it's the only way I'll ever get what I want. I can't stay behind just because she needs someone to help her through tough times. Perhaps her father can give her guidance. I know I can't.

I just reopened the Village Idiot not but a month ago...I'm going to have to find someone to take care of it.

*He leans back and thinks for a minute, then chuckles and writes a quick line directly below that last one.* Screw it, I'll leave it and let the locals rob and vandalize. What do I care now?

I have to secure a passage to the mainland...Perhaps the only hard part of the whole ordeal. Well, that's a thing to be done tomorrow. Tonight, I sleep soundly, and tomorrow, perhaps, find my freedom.

*Ben doesn't sign the entry, not needing to, knowing Lyrias may read it when she sees the journal open upon the desk, but she'll be the only one, and he has to tell her of his plans soon anyways. Nothing to worry about now, he disrobes and flops into bed, curling up and forgetting all about his troubles.*

-Journal Entry 15 July, Lord Calkane

Dear Journal;

I did it. I looked into filing for dissolution of my marriage to Eden. I requested that the marriage be dissolved, and I told Eden of it. I cant trust him right now. I cant stay married to him. Perhaps if we are given enough time we could reconcile. Maybe. I dont know. Oh Eden ... I loved you. I am sorry for all the pain. I am broken now.

I hope everyone else is happy. I am not.
Xanthia
:: Setting the journal aside, not caring who reads it, she crawls into bed. She has not been able to sleep properly since her return and she knows tonight will be no exception. She will cry again till she falls to sleep. Fitfully she may rest a few hours at most then walk the halls till she is exhausted enough to doze for a few more. It's the way things are now.::

-Journal Entry 15 July, Xanthia

Having awakened with a hunger befitting an ogre I stumble into the bazzar one lid matted over with a mixture of eye snot and sand from sleeping on the shore. I rub my eye and remove the foulness that hinders its use.

Noting now that the eateries are either all closed or packed like that lil elfs vocabulary,I glance down to see a chicken running at my feet. ahh now there's and ogre's breakfast.

Reaching down I silence its crowing ,clucking ,and crooning with on nice big chunk of a bite. the fresh warm blood runs down my cheek and the marrow is fresh in the bone. Now this is the life. Think I'll go and check if this Lyrias Dreams has left a reply to my last letter.

Maybe she has come to her senses and is ready to apologize for her rude treatment of me. I sedriously doubt it!!

(just the thought starts a belly laugh so huge it is aparent there is a chicken leg, foot intact caught amongst my teeth)

-Journal Entry 15 July, Beljaron Polgarath

Sitting near the forge, with a quill, and piece of parchment she had left from her drawings, she sits to catch her thoughts in the peace afforded her by her shoppe.~

Father and Alterio have been corresponding quite a bit lately. That cannot bode well. There is something afoot here, I just am not sure what.

Father seems to be doing well with his injured arm. I have no doubt that the stubborn man will have use of it again. He is too prideful to not work his hardest at restoring the use of his limb. Not to mention; and I know this; that he cannot stand having to rely upon me for a place to rest his head at night. He was always the provider, and to have me be his provider must be quite a strain on his sense of pride. I just wish he could understand that it is no burden to me to have him there at home.

Thia was awake wandering the halls when I left. I do hope that she isnt worried. I did leave rather suddenly, and with no inkling of where I may be going. Though, I havent gone far, just back to work.

~Sighing again, her mind rests on Ben.~
Well, he says he's leaving. Wherever he goes, I hope he finds what it is he's looking for. Surely, he must not have found in on the Isle, or even in my home. I will miss him... more than likely he knows. I understand he has his own problems to see to, and I understand that he is in no way bound to me...but, it doesnt stop the sense of loss. Again.

Perhaps I should never had said anything to him on the return flight back to the Island from ThornHenge. In fact, now, Im sure I shouldnt have. I should have listened to my instincts and kept my mouth shut. Once again, I spoke without thinking, truly. Its no wonder he wants to return to the mainland.

Oh, but, it will be so odd to wake in the mornings and not see him curled there on the other side of the bed. Not to mention lonely. He was truly the only person I had to speak to about things that honestly bothered or troubled me. I know I could talk to Father about it, but, there are some things I dont talk with my Father about. There are things I dont even speak to Thia about. He was the only one who I could count on to listen and give me an impartial answer, or even his honest thoughts on what bothered me.

Oh well, its over. He's going back to the mainland. I just hope he finds what happiness he lacks here on the Isle.

Lyrias Dreams Morgan

~leaving the entry upon one of her work counters to dry from the heat of the forge, she stands, making sure that everything is ready for her to work in the morning, and heads to the dome for a drink.... or three before coming here to sleep, and return to work.~
-Journal Entry 15 July, Lyrias Dreams Morgan