Saturday 5 March 2011

Miroslav's Diary

A dreadful night of rain. We found shelter in an old Tor. Dry at least and out of the rain. I took some time to observe the storm from the enterance way then made something of a camp. I gathered together some dry sticks and begun a fire which I warmed myself by. Pushka stood nearby looking dejected. Ha! Like she would prefer to be outside. Silly mule. I fed her then looked to feeding myself. I spoke some with my travelling companions now we were inside it was easier to hear them. Lacrimas is a smith by trade, probably travelling to find work for some reason of his own. He kept to himself in the corner. Elias played some Traladaran folk song on his flute and was good with it. Or perhaps it was more the scene Traladaran music always stirs the blood with it's melancholic melody and nod to our past glories and struggles. Makes sitting in a cave something of insignificance and trivial. It was good to hear it so far from home.


I refused his offer of a game of chance thinking it best to settle down for the night and be refreshed for travel the next day. Also I did not have much money and gambling is not a good way to gain money from little.

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