Taking her hand, she swipes away the dissarray, producing a small portion of empty space for her to write. Flicking two charts upon the floor, she reaches for the worn out red backed book and a stained quill already within a half emptied canister of black ink.

..her quill lavishly scralls upon the papers within...

[ Buissness entry ] - 1 commanding women by the name of Ma- to be used to keep the crew in order and command the posts. Entered into the ships crew 0/11/0/. - 1 ogre, gullies captor and head of cannons, under the direct command of Ma, goes by the name 'juggernaut', to be watched with caution. Entered ships crew 1/12/2 .

...she pauses as she redips the cracked quill tip into the spoiling ink jar, her dark grey eyes reflecting in tiny blades of fire from the candle withering ontop of the desk as she squalls quickly..

- 1 galley slave...by the name of Fallo...to be used at the whim of her crew...if unspoiled and alive in the morning..perhaps auction her off for profit...upon majority vote of the crew....or to be kept for the one name juggernaut as his personnal toy to keep him at bay...and a firm fixture of the crew...

(Captains note: find past resources on the elven wench, if un-missed...she will be held slave in the gullies)

Rising her hand, she reads over the chicken-scratched writing in the journals pages, letting the ink drip in smudged blotches ontop of the already deeply stained and filthy desk. Flicking the quill back into the ink jar, she rises up and leaves the book behind to dry overnight.

-Journal Entry 7 September, Captian Azryth Blyy

Unscrewing the sealed top, she licks the end of her cracked and well-used quill with her tounge, the dips the tip into the fresh batch.

[ Buissness entry..00165 ] [ Buissness arragements made with the wench women by the name of Madame, to pay her 500 gold monthy for the arrangements with top of the line whores. ]

(captains note:)
-Whores are to be checked regularly for diseases. - Men must be satisfied with the selected 'lot' - Must be well endowed and able to withstand a romping crew of 10 men onboard.

[ Provisions..
Three whores bought prior has one private cabin (shared) Food and clothed, sustained in good health. ]

[ Madames whores a fresh lot for my crew....three at a time...to be stayed at the Screaming Escatasy located just off my ships bow. ]

She rises her hand as she stares at the parchement, tapping her callosed index finger against the end of the quill. Licking her cracked lips, she re-dips the tip into the ink, blotting the end on a trashed peice of scroll as she continues..

[ Keep eye on the one named Amn, caused trouble last night with shipscrew 'Ma', regained his longsword as peace-offering for his rudeness...mentioned something about being a bounty-hunter....perhaps aquire..perhaps slay...send a watch on this man ]

Nodding to herself as she re-reads the still wet writings, she turns and glances back at the ever watchful and patient Don Santiago... "Now...whats dat othur buissness arrangements should we partake with...I wish to set sail soon, I `ave heard of the women named Fatima and `er bodygaurd may be in need of work...`eard grand things `bout dat one...Mayhaps we should offer them...a posistion onboard? whaddya think dere Santiago?" Grins knowingly as she leans back lazily within her seat, flicking the quill inside the freshly opened ink jar, not bothering to re-seal the canister as she fixes her slated eyes on the first mate of her crew...

-Journal Entry 10 September, Captain Azryth Blyy

Rosalyn sits in the bedroom she is staying at in Charquin's home, having spent most of the day resting from last nights ordeal. Rubbing her eyes she grabs her journal from under the pillow and begins to write.

Dearest Journal,

I'm not doing so well today. Char managed to bandage me up, I instructed her on what herbs to use to keep the wounds from getting infected, as long as I take it easy I should be alright. The wounds are burns from the fire last evening at the dome, the crazy old man locked me inside and then began pouring the bottles of liquor on the floor. I was already upset at being attacked by a dragon, that I didn't care much what the man was doing. Then I found his actions rather curious, but it was too late. He had dropped a torch onto the fire and escaped through the kitchen, leaving every exit blocked.

Surely I was to burn up inside, I began screaming, but the smoke filled my lungs and the fire burnt at my clothing and hair. I heard voices, each coming from different directions and I had dropped to the floor, crawling through the smoke. I was then pulled out. I seemed like a dream, I thought for sure I was going to be killed. It was Neo, at least I think it was, my memory is a bit hazy of what happened, I know I was pulled out and I remember somebody talking to me, comforting me..but then he was gone, and in his place was the ocean, I had been swept out to sea, I had begged before for somebody to put out the fire, and perhaps it was my prayers being answered. I nearly drowned in the ocean, not being able to keep from being swept out farther than I had ever managed to swim before. Just as I thought my time had run out, a huge bird like creature swept down and picked me up, depositing me on the beach where Charquin was waiting. We went home, the condition of the dome is yet unknown to me, I should perhaps write to Alterio and explain what happened, I fear being blamed. This is all for now, I shall go write my letter.

Rosalyn Lovine
-Journal Entry 10 September, Rosalyn Lovine

Dear Journal;

I have been remiss again, it seems in writing. It is just that I have had so little to write of except for work. I am currently cheifly concerned with the businesses I purchased during the auction. Since there isn nothing else for me to do, I shall work.

It keeps me busy and ... tired...

I shall write more later.. perhaps when I awake..

Xanthia
Journal Entry 18 September, Xanthia

{1-Madame Pearl, 3 days boarding, 10 gold per night agreed.
Pay back 30 gold to check the wenches for disease, cheapest diagnosis available...If wench is diseased, sell the whore for 500 gold asking price outright...dress her lavishly in one of madames attire......)
she redips the quill, not even reading what is written, as the room is to dim for her blurry vision to conteplate.

(1- gully slave...no name given..name the male...slave 11, manacled for rowing duty...seems to be unmissed and a no-body...note: check on background...find out if he has anything worth retrieving..if to much a bother..forget it)

Letting her head slap back against the wood again, she grimaces as her head throbs, yet her stomache no longer feels queesy...adding one more notation upon the leaflet after dipping the cracked quill in the ink she writes roughly.. (1- crew, named Jerr Keigh, gave to Ma for own whims....if undesirable, turn into a gully slave if no other working assets prove sufficient)

Letting the quill falls from her blackened fingertips, she lets the leaflet dry upon her thigh as her havy eyes drift closed, catching a few zzzzz's before launching the shipment that evening..

Journal Entry 19 September, Captain Azyrth Blyy

Dear Journal,

I am working with the clerks to get my shops back open but that seems oddly dissatisfying lately. Recent events keep pouring thru my thoughts and I cant seem to make sense of my life anymore.

Lately things are so depressing. I came out of the shop the other eve to see Alterio on the beach with 2 whores. I went to speak to him and got little respect, if any. As if I was nothing. No friend would deserve such. In fact as Jane walked to them and she questioned what was happening, I spoke up and told honestly that he had indeed done nothing out of line. And he threw my name back in my face, saying his wife would never take the word of a Morgan for anything. I have no idea what I have done to deserve such but it is typical for such things to happen.

I feel ... out of place and alone. I just have no idea why I remain here. I know it should be apparent that responsibility and family holds me to this place, and that those things should be enough but it isnt. When one lives as long as we of elven blood, it becomes sometimes painfully obvious that one's life lacks ... certain things. Companionship and love. Is that too much to ask?

Perhaps so. I am unsure of so much. Maybe it is just loneliness that is tearing at me.

... I have more work to do..

Xanthia
-Journal Entry 22 September, Xanthia Morgan