(Being that this is my Baldur's Gate character's journal...I should probably mention there will be spoilers. OH MY GOD! SPOILERS! WHY?!? Originally I figured this would go in Roleplay, but since this isn't an actual piece of interactive fiction, I was told it doesn't belong there. So General is my home! Hurray! ))
Day 1:
Dear Diary, wait...diaries are for sissies. I'm just going to go with journal. That sounds better right? Journal. Much better. Less feminine.
Note to self: Beat up someone today in order to feel more like a man.
Well now that we have decided that you will forever be known as "Journal" and I will be writing to you in first person narrative style as if you were actually reading this (which is a bit odd, don't you think?), I suppose I should give an explanation as to why I am starting you in the first place.
I won a trip! Yes, that's right...Gorion told me all about it. He said something about how the iron industry was crumbling, and that we were going to start having to import from other lands or something. He might have said something about danger. But that's just silly. No one enters Candlekeep. The only people that do are the really brainy sorts that bring in books to get past the gate. Books! What good has a book ever done? Well besides getting me a romp in the hay with ol' Phlydia, if you know what I mean. Heh heh. I guess you don't though because you're a stupid book. But that's alright with me. So Gorion asks me how much he thought I would need to plan out my all-expense paid trip throughout the Sword Coast, and I said a thousand gold pieces.
I settled for one-fifty.
***
So there I was, getting ready to buy everything and anything that I might need in Winthrop's Inn (ALE! MEAD! WINE!) and the idiot tells me that I owe him a great deal of money. It's a good thing he admitted to joking around, because I was ready to break my quarterstaff over his fat, bald head. That might seem a bit rash, but I've been taking his verbal abuse for awhile now. Oh he got a big chuckle about my naivety or some such nonsense, but you better believe I glared at him when I accepted my first tankard of Bitter Black Ale (and you better keep pouring them you sodding fool!)
In between drinks, and a few attempts at groping the barwench's backside, I tried to get Winthrop to start talking. Mostly about my free expense paid trip, of course. The innskeeper wouldn't really talk though. I figured I might be able to mess with Gorion's plans by offering to stay the night. However, if he was involved in what my foster-father was planning, well, I'll never know. In fact, I never noticed before, but all Winthrop ever seemed to do was wipe that blasted counter down with his rag. He'd even do it in between conversations. "Why yes, Caludur, I always have a room for you," he'd say while wiping. I thought about attempting to steal something, but I didn't really think I'd get very far. That would have required getting very close to Winthrop and have you smelled the man's breath? The only thing worse are his teeth. Foul things. Still it seems like he is in a pretty good mood. Hasn't asked me to kill any rats in his basement yet this month.
A guard popped into the tavern while I was trying to determine whether or not it would be entertaining to sass a bunch of foolishly dressed nobles that were visiting town. They seemed the sort that would pretend that you were there friend, but wouldn't want to be caught dead near you because you were "common folk." Considering that we don't really have a noble caste in Candlekeep it sort of seemed silly to me. If anything...they should treat me with respect right? I'm Gorion's fosterchild. They should respect me, damn it. I should tell Gorion, but he'd probably just glower at me like he normally does when he thinks I said something stupid. Thanks dad.
So about that guard. That's when it occurred to me. I had all this money, and what I had always dreamed of was to stomp out of Candlekeep and kill things. I suppose that is kind of a silly dream, right? And I don't mean like actual people things, like men and women and small children. But you know...birds, hamsters, dragons...or maybe even the dreaded Bloodmaw! Scared right? I mean just the visualize of a mouth oozing with blood is pretty disturbing, but this isn't just any maw. This is toothy, blood-filled maw of the most vicious bear ever to set forth in the Sword Coast! Rumors have set the bear somewhere east of Candlekeep. And if I'm going to go on an expense paid trip, I might as well go and slay that monstrocity and fetch myself a nice cloak or rug from him. Or better yet...perhaps I could hollow out his feet and paws and fashion for myself a nice set of gloves and boots.
Perfect! Razor sharp nails all over...I'd be the deadliest warrior. Kicking and slashing all my enemies! But not people. I can't have people being my enemies because I don't think anyone would like that very much. I mean people have families. And who wants to be the guy to tell some person's family that you were the terrible cretin who slayed their brother or sister or husband or...well I suppose you could just exterminate their entire family.
Note to self: Leave no witnesses!
This is why keeping a journal is stupid, by the way, Journal, old buddy, old pal. I mean, here I am trying to have a conversation with you, while you gleefully soak up everything I say, and offer no judgment to my thoughts, and suddenly I realize I have no idea what I was going on about anyway. Oh right. Murder. I want to murder things, Journal. I want to kill them dead! Bleed them bloody! And in order to do that I need weapons! Right? So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to procure some weapons from Winthrop "for this trip of mine" and maybe some armor so it won't hurt when...animals...hit me. And then we'll be good. Right-o!
***
Well that was a waste.
Apparently Winthrop has never heard of platemail before. He's also never heard of magically enchanted items. Oh sure he's got weapons...swords, clubs, crossbows, but nothing that I would really be impressed by. He had the nerve to defend himself and say that nothing would dare try to penetrate Candlekeep's walls. I giggled a little. I don't know why, but I suddenly thought of Phlydia again. I wonder what she's up to. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I saw her meandering about just outside the inn. Hmm...Journal, are you thinking what I'm thinking? It's not like she's ever doing anything important. And if she was, she probably forgot what it was anyway. Yeah, she could definitely use a distraction. I know I could. I hope her favorite book is in the hay where I left it again...the chivalry ploy never grows old.
Anyway I guess you're probably wondering what I purchased. Well I bought a slightly dented helmet with horns on it. Two outlandishly large horns jetting out from the sides. I figure should I feel backed into a corner I can always charge into something. I'm sure that would hurt. And I figure it can't hurt me since that's the whole point of wearing a helmet right? I think the helmet is slightly used though, despite Winthrop's defense. It just smells like sweat and dried blood. He made the comment that I should be thankful since a lot of weapons and armor shipments in other places are rumored to be very poor lately. I guess dwarves are terrible miners after all. Go figure.
I also purchased the pointiest long sword I could find. I'm going to have to give it a name since all adventurers name things. I think I might call it Pointy Death Stab. I'm not entirely sure. It's a work in progress. Oh and everyone is going to just love this large shield that I purchased. It's about as tall as me I think. I already put it to good use by making Winthrop talk to it whenever I didn't want to look at him anymore. "Talk to the shield, cause this hero don't want to see you're face anymore!" I said to him. Winthrop was not amused. I didn't care.
I think I was just angry with him because he wouldn't buy my quarterstaff. He told me that he didn't live to be as old and fat as he was buying sticks off people. I told him that the two of us seemed to be in a sticky situation. It's hypocritical that people that tell terrible jokes never seem to approve of receiving terrible jokes in return. I asked the barwench if she wanted my stick and for a second I thought I was hit by a magic missile. Turned out to just be her glare. Icy women work at inns. Remember that Journal. That warning could save your life!
So now that I'm all set for my all expense paid trip, I guess it's time to show off my new armor and shiny weaponry to all my friends. That's a joke. Do you think the fosterchild of Gorion actually has any friends? Hah! Well...there's Imoen. But she's annoying. I would make up lies about her just so people would yell at her and make her cry. But she isn't very smart cause she keeps following me everywhere I go. She's also a thief. How can you trust a thief? I mean really...well...I guess she could be useful if I ever wanted to jump into a life of ripping people off and thievery. But she's too optimistic and happy. Ew.
Ol' Firebeard is trying to get my attention. Looks like I have to go. I'm just going to stick my shield out and keep walking. Maybe he won't see me. Yes, with this shield, I feel invisible. Just keep walking...walking...walking...
Day 1:
Dear Diary, wait...diaries are for sissies. I'm just going to go with journal. That sounds better right? Journal. Much better. Less feminine.
Note to self: Beat up someone today in order to feel more like a man.
Well now that we have decided that you will forever be known as "Journal" and I will be writing to you in first person narrative style as if you were actually reading this (which is a bit odd, don't you think?), I suppose I should give an explanation as to why I am starting you in the first place.
I won a trip! Yes, that's right...Gorion told me all about it. He said something about how the iron industry was crumbling, and that we were going to start having to import from other lands or something. He might have said something about danger. But that's just silly. No one enters Candlekeep. The only people that do are the really brainy sorts that bring in books to get past the gate. Books! What good has a book ever done? Well besides getting me a romp in the hay with ol' Phlydia, if you know what I mean. Heh heh. I guess you don't though because you're a stupid book. But that's alright with me. So Gorion asks me how much he thought I would need to plan out my all-expense paid trip throughout the Sword Coast, and I said a thousand gold pieces.
I settled for one-fifty.
***
So there I was, getting ready to buy everything and anything that I might need in Winthrop's Inn (ALE! MEAD! WINE!) and the idiot tells me that I owe him a great deal of money. It's a good thing he admitted to joking around, because I was ready to break my quarterstaff over his fat, bald head. That might seem a bit rash, but I've been taking his verbal abuse for awhile now. Oh he got a big chuckle about my naivety or some such nonsense, but you better believe I glared at him when I accepted my first tankard of Bitter Black Ale (and you better keep pouring them you sodding fool!)
In between drinks, and a few attempts at groping the barwench's backside, I tried to get Winthrop to start talking. Mostly about my free expense paid trip, of course. The innskeeper wouldn't really talk though. I figured I might be able to mess with Gorion's plans by offering to stay the night. However, if he was involved in what my foster-father was planning, well, I'll never know. In fact, I never noticed before, but all Winthrop ever seemed to do was wipe that blasted counter down with his rag. He'd even do it in between conversations. "Why yes, Caludur, I always have a room for you," he'd say while wiping. I thought about attempting to steal something, but I didn't really think I'd get very far. That would have required getting very close to Winthrop and have you smelled the man's breath? The only thing worse are his teeth. Foul things. Still it seems like he is in a pretty good mood. Hasn't asked me to kill any rats in his basement yet this month.
A guard popped into the tavern while I was trying to determine whether or not it would be entertaining to sass a bunch of foolishly dressed nobles that were visiting town. They seemed the sort that would pretend that you were there friend, but wouldn't want to be caught dead near you because you were "common folk." Considering that we don't really have a noble caste in Candlekeep it sort of seemed silly to me. If anything...they should treat me with respect right? I'm Gorion's fosterchild. They should respect me, damn it. I should tell Gorion, but he'd probably just glower at me like he normally does when he thinks I said something stupid. Thanks dad.
So about that guard. That's when it occurred to me. I had all this money, and what I had always dreamed of was to stomp out of Candlekeep and kill things. I suppose that is kind of a silly dream, right? And I don't mean like actual people things, like men and women and small children. But you know...birds, hamsters, dragons...or maybe even the dreaded Bloodmaw! Scared right? I mean just the visualize of a mouth oozing with blood is pretty disturbing, but this isn't just any maw. This is toothy, blood-filled maw of the most vicious bear ever to set forth in the Sword Coast! Rumors have set the bear somewhere east of Candlekeep. And if I'm going to go on an expense paid trip, I might as well go and slay that monstrocity and fetch myself a nice cloak or rug from him. Or better yet...perhaps I could hollow out his feet and paws and fashion for myself a nice set of gloves and boots.
Perfect! Razor sharp nails all over...I'd be the deadliest warrior. Kicking and slashing all my enemies! But not people. I can't have people being my enemies because I don't think anyone would like that very much. I mean people have families. And who wants to be the guy to tell some person's family that you were the terrible cretin who slayed their brother or sister or husband or...well I suppose you could just exterminate their entire family.
Note to self: Leave no witnesses!
This is why keeping a journal is stupid, by the way, Journal, old buddy, old pal. I mean, here I am trying to have a conversation with you, while you gleefully soak up everything I say, and offer no judgment to my thoughts, and suddenly I realize I have no idea what I was going on about anyway. Oh right. Murder. I want to murder things, Journal. I want to kill them dead! Bleed them bloody! And in order to do that I need weapons! Right? So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to procure some weapons from Winthrop "for this trip of mine" and maybe some armor so it won't hurt when...animals...hit me. And then we'll be good. Right-o!
***
Well that was a waste.
Apparently Winthrop has never heard of platemail before. He's also never heard of magically enchanted items. Oh sure he's got weapons...swords, clubs, crossbows, but nothing that I would really be impressed by. He had the nerve to defend himself and say that nothing would dare try to penetrate Candlekeep's walls. I giggled a little. I don't know why, but I suddenly thought of Phlydia again. I wonder what she's up to. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I saw her meandering about just outside the inn. Hmm...Journal, are you thinking what I'm thinking? It's not like she's ever doing anything important. And if she was, she probably forgot what it was anyway. Yeah, she could definitely use a distraction. I know I could. I hope her favorite book is in the hay where I left it again...the chivalry ploy never grows old.
Anyway I guess you're probably wondering what I purchased. Well I bought a slightly dented helmet with horns on it. Two outlandishly large horns jetting out from the sides. I figure should I feel backed into a corner I can always charge into something. I'm sure that would hurt. And I figure it can't hurt me since that's the whole point of wearing a helmet right? I think the helmet is slightly used though, despite Winthrop's defense. It just smells like sweat and dried blood. He made the comment that I should be thankful since a lot of weapons and armor shipments in other places are rumored to be very poor lately. I guess dwarves are terrible miners after all. Go figure.
I also purchased the pointiest long sword I could find. I'm going to have to give it a name since all adventurers name things. I think I might call it Pointy Death Stab. I'm not entirely sure. It's a work in progress. Oh and everyone is going to just love this large shield that I purchased. It's about as tall as me I think. I already put it to good use by making Winthrop talk to it whenever I didn't want to look at him anymore. "Talk to the shield, cause this hero don't want to see you're face anymore!" I said to him. Winthrop was not amused. I didn't care.
I think I was just angry with him because he wouldn't buy my quarterstaff. He told me that he didn't live to be as old and fat as he was buying sticks off people. I told him that the two of us seemed to be in a sticky situation. It's hypocritical that people that tell terrible jokes never seem to approve of receiving terrible jokes in return. I asked the barwench if she wanted my stick and for a second I thought I was hit by a magic missile. Turned out to just be her glare. Icy women work at inns. Remember that Journal. That warning could save your life!
So now that I'm all set for my all expense paid trip, I guess it's time to show off my new armor and shiny weaponry to all my friends. That's a joke. Do you think the fosterchild of Gorion actually has any friends? Hah! Well...there's Imoen. But she's annoying. I would make up lies about her just so people would yell at her and make her cry. But she isn't very smart cause she keeps following me everywhere I go. She's also a thief. How can you trust a thief? I mean really...well...I guess she could be useful if I ever wanted to jump into a life of ripping people off and thievery. But she's too optimistic and happy. Ew.
Ol' Firebeard is trying to get my attention. Looks like I have to go. I'm just going to stick my shield out and keep walking. Maybe he won't see me. Yes, with this shield, I feel invisible. Just keep walking...walking...walking...