The Blackest Feather - Coltaine's Journal

What a day.

Coltaine sat reclined on a bed, with pen, ink, and a small book. In a castle. Well, not really a castle, but he knew the way of things. It would be one someday. He really had no need or desire to live in a house of stone, but it was defensible. And when he saw families living independently, at the whims and mercies of anyone who passed by with a sword, leadership instincts drove him to action.

This path was a dangerous one though, and he knew it. So he decided to keep a record of his activities, his thoughts. So he opened the book, his new journal, and began to write.

Illyria, Day One - I have no idea where I am, really. I do know that my horse is missing and walking on my own two feet so much feels odd. The horses the King of this place sent were entirely unfit for riding, so I'll just exercise different muscles for now. I met some very friendly people too, and some very odd people. I had to physically untie MicroMe the Dwarf's tongue, which was insane and disgusting enough that I decided it would be my last act of the day in public life. Even a horse's mouth is cleaner.

But I once again find myself a leader of people. An authoritative and decisive voice is sometimes all it takes to stir people out of complacency. I gave orders and was obeyed. Made promises too. Maybe they will actually believe those promises someday.

I took the first step on this path. I'll be watching for capable leaders among those who now serve me. I know all too well what happens to any who gather together for mutual defense when their leader vanishes, no matter what form the vanishing takes.


Coltaine paused, frowning. He glanced around the small room, sensing something was missing. The dryness of his throat and perfectly clear senses alerted him to the true nature of his dilemma. He made a small addition to the day's entry.


Tomorrow I'll take some people aside to start a brewery. A dry city is a damned dreary place to live.


Not a lot of good it did him for the night, but he could at least look forward to some good ale every night thereafter. Benefits of leadership.

He closed the journal and set it and the pen on the bedside table, next to the ink. Tomorrow would be a long day.

beer ... it does a body good

Coltaine's head felt as if a horse had trod over it when he collapsed onto his bed for the second night in a row. In truth one nearly had, but it was his own fault for drinking so much the day before.

He had to rouse himself to seek his journal though. He knew well enough his diligence in recording his life's events would waver over time, but these were the founding days of his life in this land, a time when everything was new to him, magical in its own way. These would be the memories he would treasure over all others. As long as he actually remembered them.

Illyria, Day Three - REX_GAMBIT sent me a pair of northern horses when he heard of my plight. Such a generous soul. Some of the locals questioned the wisdom of riding with such a powerful hangover. I'll have to look for some horsewarriors here to educate these soft-skinned folks with their weak stomachs and fear of anything that moves faster than a plow. Imagine if their women were bold enough to throw pots at them. Would change so much overnight.

There was also a discussion regarding superpowers, and one was so incredibly idealistic that I felt it needed to be immortalized, at least privately.

[04:20]<Ryelle> the best superpower would be to be able to instantly make friends with anyone

My hero. But then my day got much, much worse. I made the mistake of saying that I was adept enough to handle all the gifts the good people of Illyria were sending me. Shuew decided to bury me under an overwhelming mound of clay as a lesson.

Sometimes there is something to be said for silence.

Coltaine set aside the writing and dwelt upon silence until dreams swept him away.