Twenty-Seventh Entry

The moment I returned to the waking world, I rose from bed and reached for paper as though it might flee from me. I kept as quiet as I could for Ragar’s snoring sake while I wrote down what I had just dreamt. I needn’t have feared forgetting. It lingers still, as vivid as any lived memory. But perhaps it is the act of documenting that convinces the mind something is worth keeping.

The window glowed with the splendor of a clear Phandalin afternoon. Pale blues and warm golds mingled with the soft gray dotting of distant clouds. It was dinner hours. I could hear it in the muffled liveliness beneath the floorboards. It would soon be time to knock upon the men’s door and descend once more into Tresendar Manor’s cellar to reclaim what had been promised to us.

But that little pause in time’s tapestry was a particularly fond one for me. Within that pocket of my reed pen’s scratching against paper, the distant sounds of supper prep below, Ragar and Smeak’s uneven chorus of snores, and the bloom of the sun’s rays through the dusty window… it was the very last time in which I found absolute comfort in journaling.

Because I was one day’s events away from… an absolutely embarrassing decision, in retrospect.

But I digress.

After speaking with Linene—who, through her sending stone, consulted her sea-faring spouse—we were given what little insight they possessed on confronting the Nothic. It was not much, but it was something. The potions she offered were well beyond our means, but she attempted to soften the sting of truth with kindness. Rest, she suggested. Clarity. Preparation. And for me, a replenishing of those arcane wells I so often drain without thought.

So then, after a thorough rest and stuffing another sheet full of fantasy between the pages of my sketchbook, I stepped downstairs. Dinner was chestnut stew and day-old bread, dry on its own but perfect for dipping. Nordak, the tavern’s dwarven cook, was used to seeing me approach the kitchen alone. He hardly spared me a glance as  he wordlessly handed me today’s special in a tankard and gave a small, knowing nod. I placed two gold upon the counter. Though he tried to wave off the sum, I insisted it was to cover my companions’ meals as well. We’ve been through this song and dance before. I’ve requested my meals in private so many times that it’s become a quiet arrangement. Ragar and Smeak were already up and roaming. As I passed her, she nodded her head toward our shared room.

Go eat, her motions said without sound. So I did quickly as she gathered the others to dine below.