Loakee

Knife Juggler (Click to listen)

Ryheric composed this piece after convincing Loakee to juggle his knives outside the Prancing Pony in front of a small crowd. Loakee impressed the audience not only by juggling knives, but also balancing along a narrow wooden beam, leaving a few of the characters nerve wracked, but ultimately entertained at Loakee's showmanship.

The harvest is finally in, it was a race against the coming cold and the threat of rain. The hands of the farmers from the Northdowns that Crow and Nettie escorted down to work the fields were exactly what we needed. It is nice to have a full house once again, Mother is in her element with people to take care of and children underfoot. Watching the last of the barley being cut down was a weight off my shoulders, for to lose any of the grain due to lack of labor would be a failing on my part.

The fire was burning low now, in the large hearth that consumed most of the wall in the lavishly appointed bedroom. Soft, golden light danced and writhed over the woman standing near, then cast longer and dimmer shadows into the deeper recesses of the room, just barely highlighting the unmoving figure laid upon the bed. 

The woman brought a simple, ceramic cup to her lips, sipping its contents with lazed relaxation. A bare foot shifted over its counterpart as her ankles crossed, drawing the lightest whisper of black silk from her dressing gown. 

A series of written thoughts stashed away in a box of parchment, written meticulously and precisely, as if the writer had taken great pains to make their handwriting as legible and clear as possible. This entry is written with a noticeable amount of introspection and jumbled thoughts piled one over the other, as if the author's feelings were very much in disarray.

A series of written thoughts stashed away in a box of parchment, written meticulously and precisely, as if the writer had taken great pains to make their handwriting as legible and clear as possible. The contents of this piece don't focus on one particular event, instead narrating a series of happenings with a tone that ranges from exhasperated to indifferent to finally one where the author appears to feel 'strange' about recent events. There is a large blot of ink on one of the corners.

A series of written thoughts stashed away in a box of parchment, written meticulously and precisely, as if the writer had taken great pains to make their handwriting as legible and clear as possible. The tone of this entry veers between light-hearted and somewhat somber, implying mixed feelings.

Outsiders sure are a queer folk.

A series of written thoughts stashed away in a box of parchment, written meticulously and precisely, as if the writer had taken great pains to make their handwriting as legible and clear as possible. This time, the author's manner of speech is far more eloquent and collected, like he had taken the time to sort out his thoughts.