[RPG][FEI][Adv] The Journal of Swainson Hawkestone, Adventurer.

[Diana P.]

December 24th.

Been neglecting me journal and here it's Yuletide already.  Can't hardly 
believe it nohow.  Damn, but these nights are getting cold.  Ain't worth 
your life to sleep out in the open, leastwise not without a tent, which 
I haven't got.  So it's back to the city for me, where there's ale and 
pleasant company to warm my bones.

Seems a strange time to be an adventuring sort, when all around are 
families preparing for Yule.  Nothing more than human flotsam this time 
of year, I am -- me and the rest of us wanderers.  Oh, I can still get 
me a few rounds of ale with stories of beast-hunting, but seems that 
kind of story is in less favour with the townsfolk.  No, they want to 
hear tales about mercy and kindness and miraculous doings by angels all 
a-shining bright -- something to assure them that life isn't as bleak 
and cold as midwinter makes it seem.  Me, I'm a realist living day to 
day, edge on to death, and right now my tales aren't wanted.

Never mind, leastwise I managed to sell a couple pretty trinkets to folk 
who needed gifts for their loved ones on the morrow.  Must be nice to go 
home to families.  Wouldn't know myself -- tavern wench that Ma was, she 
never exactly made what I'd call a home.  I'd send Ma a letter if she'd 
ever learnt to read, which she ain't never done.  She was fair proud of 
me when I did, though.

Anyway, Merry Yuletide Ma, wherever you are.  I'll raise a glass of 
mulled cider to you tonight at the tavern, and mayhap the angels will 
let you know I'm well.  That'd be miracle enough for me.