- A loose, crumpled up piece of yellowed parchment that would lie aimlessly littered close to the Scholar Stairs -
I was horribly attacked on my way to the Pony today. I was caught completely off-guard and by surprise as the assailant jumped from behind and slammed onto my back, holding on for dear life. I didn't see it coming, at all. Never had a clue I was being stalked. And when the culprit blinded me with her hands, threatened me with death by letting me fall off the edge of the landing, claiming self-sacrifice to my demise, I knew I was in trouble. The smell of baked goods hung thick in the air.
I carried Piperel into the Pony, then. It was good to just let go for a change, be without constraints and laugh. And I must say, it was one of the most pleasant evenings I've had in a long time. It was to my surprise that I saw Taala and Eroforth standing in the Pony, as I've grown quite accustom to lounging around, hoping for some form epiphany to strike from out of nowhere. There came another member of the Dawn to the table. None of us knew him, but he bore the Dawn sigil. Also a man from the Dales. Eroforth, a previous resident from Lake Town, as well, proved just as pleased by the turn of events. This man did look as if he just swallowed ball of shit most of the time, however, but a good lad to have next to you when that very same excrements strikes from behind.
I was impressed, I have to admit, though. This obnoxiously rude bastard, towering huge, lumbering hulk of brainless muscle, think they called him Stryk, came on to Pip. I wanted to step in and ask if the bastard if he needed any coins for a bit of entertainment. Perhaps he thought Pip to be a common whore, I don't know. But to see her insult him like that, humiliate him, was just too precious. I'm glad she can handle herself. A damn bloody necessity if she still wants to join the company. She'd not survive a day in the Dawn hall other wise, I'm afraid. I'll have to talk to Taala about this next time, ask if there's any administration post for Pip. Perhaps she can help out with the logistics of the caravan trips. She needs the coin.
Pip had to leave the Pony to see her landlord, but the poor bugger pegged and left this, Widow Woodash, the leases to the block of apartments she's renting from. And of course she'd seize her chance from her new high and mighty post to increase the rent. They always do, the bastards. She wants an extra 50 coppers above her normal installment. Which is pathetic, if you ask me. Well, at least Pip has a place of her own. Far more than I can say for myself.
When she came back we went to her place. She showing me her room for the first time. Me staying over. It was already early morning when I should have gone. So, I thought, what does it hurt spending the night in her bed. It's only one night. I didn't have anywhere else to go – it was either that or back to that filthy straw mattress up in the Pony or in Combe. And I'm pretty much sick of wondering if the previous tenant weren't covered in crap. I've gotten lice like that before, and the bloodsucking buggers wouldn't stop itching.
