[A journal appears to have been accidentally left open upon the front desk of the Commerce Guild, resting just next to the firelamp.

Upon the first page is a messy sketch of two draconic figures intertwined in battle, their silhouettes loose to study the shapes, the details remain unrefined. To the side is several testings of the texture of scales. Some sharp, like daggers interlocking with each other. Some smooth, like the scales of a fish.

The second page has been entirely scribbled out. It is impossible to tell if drawings or words were once upon this page.

The third page, again, has thumbnail drawings, loose and experimental. Texture studies, a corned filled with crosshatching, and a few flowers and petals of various shapes and sizes. One particular drawing that displays more refinement than the rest is a sword, lightly curved like a cutlass.

Alone on the fourth page is a drawing of a severed hand, a sword fallen from its grip. The blood is eerily well-detailed. The reflection of an eye, locked in horror, can be seen upon the blade.

The fifth page is blank.

Finally, upon the sixth page, there is writing. The penmanship is skilled, but seems wobbly despite the flow of the letters.]

I wish I had my old jou rnal. I don't know if they would have let me   bring it aboard the ship anyways, but for some    reason, a new one seems so   daunting. I had all  my thoughts   neatly laid out  in that old one. It felt like I could skim  through it and my thoughts would clear.  But I suppose fresh begiinnings   include fresh journals, too.

I figure I'll just ramble, and eventually I'll have a coherent place anew fo r my thoughts to gather.

My joints are getting worse again. I don't know if I can keep up with moving rocks the way   I do. I think it's the old injury from the damne d mines. 

[A cartoonish drawing of a squirrel that is unrealistically flattened separates the first part of the page from the rest.]

I still can't quite get my   my thoughts in order at times. I feel slower to   think. Was it that old concusssion I had? I feel like I can barely remember at times. I swear I'm not  that  old yet I haven't even hit thirty-five years. It's been hard when I need to say something important, or remember something impo rtant and it's just   not there. And it's terrible when I'm trying to help someone. I tthink the critters around here  might believe I'm just a  little dense, and that's alright.  Prrobably better.  I think I'm able to hhide a lot of it by just coming off as clumsy  and a bit slow.

[The handwriting appears to improve beyond this point, as if written at a different time.]

I probably am just clumsy and slow and forgetful at this point. Not much else I can do but try to keep better track of things that happen. And if that old injury flares up again, I suppose that's why I hire haulers.

I just hope I can actually use a damn sword once I get over the

[The writing ends abruptly. The bottom of the page is decorated with scribbles of various gemstones.]

[Unlike the earlier entries, this page has no drawings upon it. The text is slightly wobbly, but nowhere near the degree seen previously.]

Mining went about as well poorly as expected. I felt like I needed to take breaks twice as often as usual, and nearly passed out at one point. I'm lucky I made it back to the guild in time to rest for a moment, but I'm gonna have to be more careful. A bloodstone might help. Quarrel suggested putting it in an amulet, and I'd have to agree, especially if I plan to wear it consistently. Kinda wished I'd kept the brilliant one I'd cut awhile back now...

Ah well. Can't predict the future. I can only guess that all these aches coming back are some kind of trial? Or a sign I've not been taking care of myself properly.

I've only really talked about myself in this journal, so I figure I should write down something that isn't about me...

Things have been relatively quiet, all things considered. I think spring will be around soon, as critters saw rain again. I'm hoping the warmer weather will have critters wandering around more often. Not that having the guild full isn't pleasant, of course! But I think feeling cooped up has made some critters feel rather down. I can't blame them, Silvanus has certainly been making herself well known with all the blizzards this season, but the snow's to be appreciated too. I might make an offering to Silvanus to thank her for the winter.

There's been quite a few new critters lately as well. I suspect that with spring approaching, critters are finding it to be a good time to move to Kalris. Perhaps I should dig a few new rooms in the guild?

[The bottom of the page is signed in cursive with Sebastian's name.]

(Warnings for a lot of things. Mention of visceral details, eating issues, as well as serious traumatic implications.)

[There are several pages with handwriting so poor that it is nearly impossible to decipher, despite even the best efforts. The words look more like scrawling meant to resemble words or letters than actual words or letters, but nothing is legible. The pages are completely filled, top-to-bottom, likely written at the same time.

The letters and words don't make sense, no matter how hard you try to read it. Is it even Common? Sciurric? Or is it just so frantic that you cannot piece together the words?

After three full pages of inane scrawling, the fourth page is legible enough to make out...]

I've taken this entire situation  poorly. I know I have. It hasn't left my mind. How can it? I stood right next to the rotting, animated corpse of that horrid abomination. It might have been worse if they didn't guide me to my bed but they weren't acting right. Something was wrong with them I could see it in their eyes they weren't acting right they weren't acting right something was wrong something wasn't right something isn't right something isn't right something isn't right something isn't right someth- [This continues until it descends into unreadable text once more.]

I'm irritable. I'm angry. I try to contain myself but I feel tears creep into my eyes no matter how hard I try. Some times the paranoia creeps back in, like crashing waves, and I hide in my room, yelling at anyone who comes near to go away and leave me alone, until the visions of blood and fangs disappear from my peripherals. Gods. I can still smell it. Metallic like ore yet mixed with something that makes me sick to the very pit of my insides. I keep hearing the screaming. The expressions warped and twisted in horror. I close my eyes to make it go away but it comes back every time I do. I can't sleep my dreams torment me with visions of blood and teeth and screaming. I can't sit at my desk because I still smell the blood there. I can still see the stains even though they've been cleaned.

I can't eat, my stomach won't let me. I try but I can't and I'm tired of cleaning up after myself when my body rejects everything so fast. I'm trying so hard not to let myself wither but sometimes it just feels better than losing another battle with my stomach. 

I shouldn't be sorry for myself I'm not even one of the critters who were injured. I didn't get shot with a crossbow bolt. I didn't get my flesh torn into by those vicious fangs. I'm trying so hard to fight to do anything I can to itch at that anger and restlessness all at once to do anything meaningful rather than cower in my room. I'm trying so hard. I'm trying. I'm getting critters equipment. Making sure they're armed, paid for new weapons to be made. I tore through the pain and discomfort and sickness to get rocks for more silver. Is it enough? Am I doing enough? Will it just happen again?

I'm so tired. But I can't sleep.

I wish I had words to comfort myself like I did for them but I worry it would all be hollow lies. I want to tell myself it will be alright but it doesn't feel like it's going to be alright.

But by the gods I swear I will see to it that thing feels the smiting light of Dharasi's sun and Jyra-Tul's judgement.

[Whatever was written on this page has been scrawled out. Instead, replacing the space left on the page that isn't covered in copious amounts of ink is a drawing.

It depicts a small wooden figurine of a dragon. It is difficult to tell if it is meant to be depicting a particular dragon from the Pantheon, or if it is meant to simply be a generic, ambiguous dragon, but there has clearly been effort put into the details of the wood grain. The lighting on the drawing seems to mimic that of lamplight; this was likely drawn from a physical item as reference.

The dragon is smiling.]