#damn having exquisitely good taste is such a burden sometimes

[desperatepleasures]

adagio has been out of matcha so I bought some from another company that had good reviews and it's. well it's just hot leaf juice :(

[saigeboredeaux-blog]

( cisfemale ) haven’t seen NAEVA BARABESI around in a while. the NAOMI SCOTT lookalike has been known to be (+) STEADFAST & (+) JUDICIOUS, but SHE can also be (-) CHARY & (-) DETACHED. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in ANTHROPOLOGY. I believe they’re living in POTENTAS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( james! 20. EST. she/they. )

hello hello ! i’m james and this is my baby naeva !! she’s an oldie but also ... a new..ie ?? let’s just say it’s been a hot minute since i’ve awoken her ! i’ll probably pick up another muse at some point b/c that’s Who I Am and it was already a struggle figuring out who to bring in first so jskjdflg (except ik who i’d bring in for my second muse :~) ) anyways !! let’s get right into it !

TW: implications of illness.

a e s t h e t i c s

black a-line dresses and black oxford shoes and their light tapping against polished floors, parental expectations and eyerolls beginning lectures, sunglasses under fluorescent lights and the same old tired excuses. driving drunk friends so there’s a reason to say no, laughing off backhanded remarks and clinking of glasses, that old vintage watch that no longer functions but the presence brings a comfort like no other. tossing and turning and waking up and falling asleep--vicious cycles in a battle between dreams and reality. knowledge, and the ever-ending thirst to learn more--love for the surrounding world and an undying will to live. noses in books and the peaking gazes from underneath so, curiosity peaking and a longing to feel alright in one’s skin.

general info !!

full name: naeva ornella barabesi

nickname(s): to be determined t b h

b.o.d. - september 1st, 21 yrs old, virgo

label(s): the facade, the pastiche, the prevaricator, the salubrious

height: 5′6″

hometown: lecce, italy

sexuality: brave of u to assume naeva even know

her stats can be found HERE

and her pinterest can be found HERE !!

biography !!

to those her parents boast to, naeva is a miracle child by all means. guests told that she was born perfect--silent out the womb, easy as day to care for after years of trying for child with no avail; an angel taking vessel in their baby daughter. she is born to liars.

born to old money invested in hedge funds and the vice president of an international bank, surrounded by old buildings of exquisite architectural design--the barabesi family lived lavishly. this is not a lie. their mansions and sports cars and boastful superiority is all, undoubtedly real.

a child born with ailments to last her lifetime is a precious miracle who needs to stay quiet when mommy and daddy are bragging to their guests.

being oh so fragile only meant a lack of socialization except for when it’s convenient--the endless faces of specialists, or tutors, or her parents’ friends.

they love their daughter, yes, but after years and years of building perfect empires and fitting the mold they’ve so desperately tried to label themselves--god be damned if little naeva wasn’t their golden star right from the moment she was born.

born and, for a short time, living in lecce, italy--the barabesi family soon moved to the states in pursue of the best of the best doctors. specifically, cold spring, new york.

small enough to go undisturbed, the young girl spent her time learning and learning; whether it were numbers or vague history or what to take on what days and how to turn a cough into a smile.

and being treated as far too fragile--too delicate, as if she could shatter if you so dared look at her for too long.

eventually, the vicious cycle shifted to a life manageable. though still feeling as if she walked on eggshells, naeva could attend elementary school.

sure, it was stressful--but god, it was her life; she was not a burden, no matter the circumstance and no matter what ailed her.

years passed as naeva juggled the golden child act--attending school, her parents’ little parties, her after school lessons, endless doctor appointments--a blur, in all honesty. a near comfortable routine.

it wasn’t until naeva was in high school that she got a little, well, restless

routine is good, yes--but she was a girl who wanted to live a life where she didn’t have to worry about her health.

it were small things at first, skipping class to read in the library (how very rebellious, wow) and staying out of her house as much as possible without raising suspicions--whether it was stopping at the convenience store after violin or purposely hitting as many red lights as possible.

though naeva seemed to spiral her senior year, really, that’s when it became an issue.

unraveling quickly for reasons she really couldn’t fathom, she felt as if she wasn’t living enough.

going to parties instead of the library, committing vandalism with newly acquired friends, ignoring all the don’ts that came with being her and getting just. absolutely plastered.

it was at one of these parties, a college party nonetheless--where naeva met tatiana samuels.

the girl fascinated an impressionable naeva in a way she didn’t understand--it grew into a friendship, and for the rest of the year; if tatiana was at a party, so was naeva.

but of course--reality got to the best of naeva and when her health crumbled, she withdrew. canceled her bad girl subscription; practically swore it off.

it hadn’t helped that the entire situation had thoroughly freaked out her parents, and suddenly, naeva was six again. back to the basics. this time, however, naeva thought that just maybe, it was for the best.

her parents practically forced her to attend lockwood (not that she really minded) in order to keep her close to home--even so, naeva is living as independently as she can.

personality

it’s sort of easy to mistake naeva for a very serious kinda woman; y’know, no laughs or jokes or inappropriate behavior.

it’s the air around her, really; cool, calm, and collected; aloof yet confident, eyes so dark y’can’t tell if they’re judging or commending you. always seen with a yeti in hand, undoubtedly filled with decaf coffee--booties and tights and tasteful blazers. she’s your fourth grade substitute teacher that wouldn’t let you talk during free time.

but well, it’s a mistake.

she’s responsible and rational and work-oriented but god, does she value humor and amusement and all the good little things in life.

maybe she’s not the funniest person around, but she’ll attempt banter with you--and if you’re passionate about something she’ll hear you out; hell, she’ll support your excitement, maybe even share some of her own passions. naeva is constantly amused, even if her mouth’s set in a hard line.

she studies anthropology because of her love for human life and culture; her minor’s in sociology for god’s sake. naeva loves life, loves liveliness, loves people who feel intensely--naeva’s got a lot of love in her.

it’s a shame she’s so afraid to let people in.

don’t get it wrong--she’ll cozy right up to you but...is she really? or is she just letting you see what she wants you to see? it pains her, as somebody who feels so much, to act so...distant? she by no means gives off a cold air, but she’s the kind of gal you know without really knowing.

god, naeva is so scared. it hurts, sometimes, how scared shitless she is--the events happening in lockwood, secrets being revealed--the possibility that hers will be one day out in the opened without her consent. she just wants to live her life. she really, really, just wants to live.

‘course, she keeps it very very contained. her friends must not know how goddamn stressed she is, at all times of the day--the woman hates pity. she’s been pitied since birth. she wants no more of it.

it’s precisely why she keeps her medical history so hidden. she isn’t ashamed of her life, no, she’s alive and that’s what matters--but the pity. imagined or not--the thought of it is unbearable. maybe it’s silly, maybe a little too irrational for a girl considered so...rational, but, she can’t help it.

it’s not anybody’s business anyway--she tells herself, at least--

it’s led to her lying a lot--unnecessary, but she panics often--when she disappears from school for an extended amount of time, it’s because of family drama or events or public appearances or whatnot.

which, sometimes really gets to her--she’s supposed to be dependable, reliable, trustworthy--goddammit, and she can’t even do that. she’s just a girl with a lot of excuses up her sleeve and one day she’s going to run out.

don’t get her wrong though ! she’s not a passive person, y’know, just because she can be quiet and distant. if she sees an injustice she will speak out about it--she’s got a lot of opinions, and is pretty much ready to attack you with words.

tl;dr - kind and a Pal whilst keeping a distance--always stressed but [laugh track] you’ll never know. she’s also a big nerd when it comes to cultures and just. learning in general. loves history and sociology and anthropology and all that. like...a mom friend? very responsible, will be the designated driver Always and take care of you, it’s just...you only really know what she wants you to know, and she’s a lil bit of a liar. Big Smart, is always amused. not as serious as you’d think.

OH! and she’s very noncommittal in the relationship-sense. like...she’s probably dated around a little bit but the longer it lasts the more tense she gets and more often than not she breaks things off.

disclaimer!

illnesses can be a very sensitive topic and i promise i’m not being vague about it without reason: i’ll be going into it for a task. i’m always cautious on how i portray it, so please let me know when and where i can better myself if something feels off ! the last thing i want to do is come off as inaccurate.

i also was going to do a fun fact/headcanon section but my brain? big dumb and i literally forgot everything i wanted to write so lmao. one of these days, expect a lil headcanons thing. but for now ...

OH! here’s a fun fact! she’s rich as FUCK. that is all, good day.

wanted connections

god give me everything

like i’m really up for anything.

give her a best friend! somebody who really truly knows her

or somebody who Thinks they really know her tehehehfgjfghj

let her mom friend others! be the parental figure in this relationship!

fake friends b/c she’s got money.

study buddies!

people she tutors!

somebody who lets her be a lil’ wild, loosen up.

on the other end: let her keep somebody rooted! a good influence.

ex partners! on good or bad terms??

hook ups! one night stands! fwbs!

ex-hookups ! one night stands that lead to awkward encounters

a thorn in her side, an absolute Annoyance.

on the other hand, let me use naeva to badger your characters. let Her be the annoyance.

enemies? for whatever reason ??

on-and-off-agains!

will they won’t they?

ex-friends! ex-friends trying to fix their friendship!

tense relationships!

oh, your mail keeps getting mixed with mine ?? wth ?? we don’t even have similar names ??

conspiracy theory buds!

STOP running INTO ME on ur morning JOGS u PRICK i’m trying to WALK HERE

purposely stealing the last like...breakfast sandwich in the food court just to be that asshole

bickering. just lots of bickering.

somebody who is just suspicious of naeva’s lil lies n is like HMM and she’s like OH NO U DON’T

somebody she rly wants to be close with but just :) refuses :)

anything unrequited. anything one-sided. love or hate or platonic idc i want it all.

pls n thank.

like this n i’ll msg you of course !!

[riaasam]

... because they know exactly what they are doing

Jair stepped onto the spacious terrace of the Presidential Villa, his official residence in the government capital Brasilia. The architecture of the villa did not suit his taste. Too simple. Too detached. So he preferred his finca in the rainforest in an elegant, down-to-earth colonial style and his city palace in the style of modern Sun Kings. He smiled at the thought, then his eyes began to dim. How greedily the people cried out for democracy. Acting as if something had changed beneath him. As if the rainforests had not been cleared for hundreds of years, to the advantage of the most successful, because cleverest. As always. Like everywhere. He was glad that the road was now too arduous for old Batista to audition personally at the villa. He laughed up his sleeve at the thought of how cleverly he had managed to pull this off again. Old Batista had the unbearable charisma of a self-made man who looked down scornfully on all those who were already born into a privileged position through the achievements of their forefathers. As if he had chosen it! The old man unpleasantly reminded him of his father who never missed an opportunity to point out the ridiculousness of all his Jair's successes in relation to his own, his life-giver and founder of the family dynasty.

One of the reasons why he got along so well with Joesly Batista, who was tormented even more by his father, who had actually made him one of the richest people in the world and his son, as he was happy to point out, would be nothing without him. It would not surprise him if Joesly would speed up the departure of the old man, who, in his mid-eighties, was still bristling with tyrannical power. His assistant, a capable but extremely ugly creature, he suspected that his wife had had a hand in this, as she knew too well how quickly he exchanged his wives for their younger model, reported that the gringos would arrive slightly late and Joesly was to arrive in five minutes. He liked Trump for his exquisite taste in choosing his women and admired his open display of his supposed wealth. And he was not one of those softies who outwardly presented himself as liberal and democratic and then, behind closed doors, euphorically shit on morals and greedily seize every opportunity for money, as the US and European democrats like to do. He shivered at the thought of the second guest who was to travel with Trump. He was reluctant to admit it but this Larry Fink frightened him. For a long time he had pondered over his motives. He was already rich and his power was one he could not flaunt. What was he interested in? Control? The guy worked 100 hours a week, did not take part in orgies, did not drink, did not take drugs, ate only white rice. Creepy. At least this time Trump left his maladjusted son-in-law at home. After the last visit they had to pay the family of the very young chambermaid a horrendous amount of hush money to comfort them over the brutal rape by the devilish gringo. A fine piss who believed the whole world had to obey him. Jair had heard rumours of goon squads, from which the said son-in-law had his opponents beaten to a pulp, and then, when the poor bastards were tied up and lying half-dead in their last trains, he would slip on a pair of gloves made of human leather, demonstrate his power with weak blows and then cut their throats in a cruel, amateurish way. Rumours. But he would not be surprised. Despite the pleasant 24 degrees that prevailed here in summer, Jair shivered again.

His assistant tore him from his morbid thoughts to report that she had led the just arrived senior Batista to the large terrace. Jair tensed his shoulders, pulled in his stomach and put on the El Presidente's jovial smile as he approached his guest. They greeted each other amicably and toasted to hopefully successful negotiations with the whisky that his prudent secretary had brought. Trump had been extremely vague on the phone, but he was immediately infected by his euphoria at the prospect of the money blessing. Joesly seemed tense as he talked about the shitty climate bitch from some shitty farm town in Europe who dared to complicate his life. "Isn't it enough that I have to deal with these retarded Indians and their backwoods tree love? And then there are those brainwashed religious fanatics from Gringoland who claim that God has a problem with us cutting down trees to grow meat. Then why did God give us the fire and the saw in the first place, if He objects?" Jair nodded sympathetically and grumbled something about plaited dictatorship, which he had picked up on the internet and seemed particularly witty to him. In fact, these rebellious children were increasingly becoming a problem. They talked about their future, even the future of all humanity, which was stolen from them by the older generation. Old that he did not laugh, he was in his prime. As a result, an unpleasant hatred of the rich and powerful also began to spread, and it took on alarming proportions. Powerful men were dragged to court for so-called sexual harassment. As if they did not all crave for it and lick their eggs with enthusiasm for even the smallest promise of success. Now these sluts all suddenly showed solidarity and spoke of abuse, even though for centuries it had been more a matter of a silent agreement of giving and taking. Sometimes he no longer understood the world. Maybe he was getting old after all. Both looked mournfully ahead and sucked listlessly on their Cohibas as the roar of an approaching helicopter tore them from their thoughts. As this ghastly bloodsucker Fink seemed to have something against sunlight, they had to leave the bright day to go to the darkened library. They allowed themselves a good sip and poured themselves into the leather couches that looked more comfortable than they were. Trump rumbled a greeting in surprisingly poor English for a native speaker, while Fink's smile seemed a little forced as usual. The two probably saw each other more as an unfortunately acceptable means to an end than as a human enrichment. Drinks were served, still water for Fink, a can of light cola for Trump and after the somewhat tough small talk had completely dried up, Fink, the initiator of this meeting, directed the conversation towards the purpose of this very meeting. "Gentlemen, I think I need not mention that everything discussed in these four walls today is subject to absolute secrecy. He looked around and everyone nodded. "The world is changing right now and not in our favour. The internet is a goldmine on the one hand, but on the other hand it is an almost uncontrollable pool of information that can be accessed by almost the entire world population. What used to be a regional scandal is now a global story that puts pressure on the courts to impose harsh penalties and forces politicians to take an official stand. Two decades ago, neither Weinstein nor Epstein would have been brought down. At the mention of these two names, all those present sighed with concern. That such cunning bastards were put on trial in public had been a shock. Especially this blackmailer Epstein had made all men in powerful circles tremble. It had been a masterstroke to fake his death, to give him a new face with a small surgical operation and to make him disappear forever to prevent all the sex videos with minors that this criminal had recorded with almost everyone in the world who had anything to report from being published on this damned internet. After a short break Fink continued: "Millions of young people worldwide have made it their business to destroy our economic system and even if they are just children, we should not underestimate the pull of their rebellion. Politicians feel compelled to make more and more green concessions for marketing reasons and consider that these children have parents who will take them on for themselves and their cause. The fear of terror is decreasing worldwide as the Islamist movements become less and less attractive and fewer and fewer young people want to commit themselves to their cause and give their lives. We need a new source of fear, a new enemy from outside, which makes authoritarian states seem necessary again, nips troublesome social and climate policy discussions in the bud and promotes nationalism. We have run various scenarios through our Aladdin Programme and our analysts have come to the conclusion that a global pandemic is the best outcome. We take a relatively harmless virus that actually exists and declare it the greatest threat to all mankind. The virus will be fatal, especially for very old people, thus reducing the burden on the health care system, and will hardly affect the production and consumption power of younger people. The initial uncertainty will turn into fear and, as a result, widespread support for rigid policies and high public spending on public health and safety. According to our calculations, the portfolios that we have created in anticipation of what is to come will have a significant increase in value in the pharmaceutical industry, medical products, safety clothing, new technologies, digital media, food industry" - he nodded to Batista, "online shopping etc. with 99% certainty". Trump, who was always nervous when listening for a long time, asked for his third can of light cola. Fink waited, with the patience of a sadistic governess for the child she had entrusted to her disturbed parents, until the little drink disappeared in her big hands to continue with his explanations: "Politics, which fortunately is globally in conservative hands, where change tends to be detrimental. "But our hands are not at all conservative behind closed doors, aren't they Jay-Jay?" Trump interjected and looked around the faces of his co-conspirators for recognition. Jair twitched slightly and forced himself to grin. That this stupid redneck could not remember a single non-English name. And Jair was really not complicated. Fink suppressed his increasing energy. Even the joint flight with this giant baby had been an intellectual imposition. But he played his role in world political affairs perfectly and had earned them billions in just one term of office, thanks to the withdrawal of bank regulations and other gifts with which he bought himself free of his debts. He cleared his throat: "Conservative governments worldwide will not question the existence of the virus when they realise how useful the situation is for them to extend their power and distract from their own political shortcomings.  And no one will risk going it alone, as science will be uncertain in the beginning, when assessing the danger of the disease and a decision against the trend could make you a murderer umpteen times over. We already have the Chinese on board. Their sensible approach to the freedom of the internet and freedom of expression in general will make it much easier to let the outbreak take place there and we have been able to convince them with the political incentives as well as the financial ones, as the unrest in Hong Kong, Taiwan and the PR disaster with the Uyghurs urgently require distraction. The international airport in Wuhan will make a rapid global dissemination look credible and the scandal-hungry press will be enthusiastic about it. Our programme sees only one problem and that is the unpleasant desire to question the decisions of the rich and powerful, which is ineradicably stuck in a part of the people. We distinguish between the factually based empirically rational criticism of the mostly academically educated, the argumentatively logical criticism of the intellectuals and the intuitive criticism of the uneducated. In order to convince the critics of the opposite, our analysts have come to the conclusion that the questioning of the existence of the virus must come from their anti-Jesus, the symbol of the rejection of rational reason and scientific facts, from them, Mr Trump and Mr Bolsonaro!Jair was unsure how to react, as the image for which he had just been described to stand did not necessarily seem positive to him. "Don't get me wrong," the diplomat of money, who became aware of his perhaps a little too businesslike way of talking about people present at that moment, reacted promptly. "of course, this is not about you as private individuals, but you as public figures with a publicity value" Both Trump and Bolsonaro seemed insecure and hurt. "What I mean is not real public opinion but the left-wing propaganda that sells you to the establishment! Larry's voice was firm and convincing as he quickly took those words from his brain. That was the secret of his success. He was simply faster than the majority of his counterparts and was able to provide the desired answer within seconds, which in turn led to the desired result for him. Larry looked at his brain in a similar way to a computer, which fed data into it and used it to make predictions. The better the data, the more precise the prognosis. When the internet was invented, he immediately saw its potential. With it he was able to build the super brain, the real time super brain that was closest to a collective memory and therefore knowledge store, the Internet, scouring for information and being able to make the most precise predictions about the possible future. A real boon to financial investment, whose weakness is its dependence on insecure political systems, rebellious people and natural phenomena. The earlier an investor can predict the occurrence of major changes, the earlier he can react to them by either selling or buying shares affected by these changes, depending on the circumstances. An incoming uncertainty among consumers, let's say caused by a virus that can be deadly, offers the opportunity to sell shares in tourism, travel transfer, aircraft manufacturers and their suppliers, shipbuilders and their suppliers, car manufacturers and their suppliers, etc. and to buy shares in pharmaceuticals, medical supplies, safety clothing, online shopping, telecommunications, security, etc. But, why bother reacting to events only when you can trigger events? Especially if you have the perfect tool to play through all scenarios and thereby protect yourself. He was almost touched when he thought of Aladdin. For him it was like landing on the moon for others. His dream had come true. Jair was still not quite sure if he had just been insulted, but decided to listen to the bloodsucker for a while. "We already have Boris Johnson on board. He thinks the plan is brilliant. Even the Chinese will first deny the existence of the virus in order to strengthen the belief in the virus among opponents of authoritarian regimes. Steve Bannon has the political right in Europe well in hand. There are too many risks involved in opening this kindergarten, but they will probably follow your good example as always. Your followers, who are more likely to be the Uneducated Critics, will follow your example and question the existence of the virus, which in turn will strengthen the credibility of the Educated Critics Group 1, as they will instinctively believe the opposite. Group 2 of the intellectual free-thinkers is more difficult to convince but according to our calculations negligible, as they play hardly any role in the formation of public opinion at the moment, fortunately for us. If at some point it inevitably comes to light that the virus was actually harmless, group 1 will look stupid, group 3 will feel strengthened in their belief in themselves and their leaders and you will be the more or less the only ones who have seen through the situation". Fink looked around to see if his words had the desired effect. "I love it," Trump said. "Nice work, Larry." He patronisingly added. Jair was thrilled. A worldwide conspiracy and he, one of the few initiates. As far as he could see, the thing didn't even seem to be claiming any real victims, just hastening the departure of those already doomed to death. "Not uninteresting" he commented, however, with restraint at first. Larry added "In addition to the political capital, there is of course also the possibility for you to privately and discreetly make considerable financial capital out of the matter. Through Black Rock I have the possibility to invest anonymous investment packages for you, whose profit is distributed directly to an untraceable account in a country of your choice. "Who all knows?" was Batista's first words. "Few who, apart from me, know nothing about each other. There are no records, only verbal agreements. I don't need to explain to you what you or your company get out of it. Climate strikes will dry up. People will have other problems than thinking about animal welfare and veganism, and according to our calculations, the turnover of the food industry will shoot through the roof because underemployed people tend to overeat. Batista nodded in agreement that this was a well-known fact. Hooray for the holidays. Jair's mind was already somewhere else. He thought of the house on the French Riviera that Michelle had wanted for so long, the Ferrari he had secretly dreamed of for so long. All of this was served to him here on a silver platter without him having to lift a finger! And in the end it would even get him another term of office. So dreams became reality. He smiled blissfully as he rang for the maid to order a bottle of the best champagne the villa's cellar had to offer in the library. The mood was exuberant. Even Fink was persuaded to have a glass. Suddenly it didn't seem so bloodless and unpleasant anymore. He was a genius and they are notoriously eccentrics. And this eccentric would make him Jair very, very rich. He would have liked best to kiss him. Instead he raised his glass and shouted happily: "To a fantastic coming year gentlemen!"

Continuation followed ...

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)

[derelictwritings]

Aerin’s Journals- commission for Stephen Sweeny

Aerin, Sun’s Pinnacle 18

Father, now that I have turned seventeen, has given me his blessing to take up the family trade on my own and begin selling our wares abroad. I must confess my dizziness as my heart is racing. I have only travelled with him to some of the surrounding villages in the time that I have been learning. To think that I will be a man of the road like father. I should hope that my estate will be as great and respectable as his own one day.

This morning I was walking the grounds just beyond the garden and to the north I could see these great clouds brewing from the top of the hill. Funny, they almost looked like the blizzard clouds of winter, but they were so far away that could just as easily have been a trick of the morning sun. The grass just washes over the earth for miles like some great ocean of green. What a great day it will be to see the real ocean. Graer left for the north against father’s wishes. “Our family's place is selling finery and bringing joy, not donning armor and waiting to die on the battlefield,” is what I remember him saying. I should hope that I see him again sometime soon.

I’ve been packing and plotting my route all morning. I’m being sure that I am thoroughly prepared for the morrow when I make my way. I even made sure to take some of the longer routes around the battlefields to the East. I wouldn’t want to get caught up between the nation’s army and the Gethrani. The stories of battle I have heard are quite fantastic, but I know not to stick my nose in the middle of that which will surely burn it from my skull. On a partially unrelated note, Nerie told me that my nose is my most admirable feature. “Befitting of a Veratovian king,” she said. I don’t know about a king, but I think I might make an agreeable lord one day should Pelor’s mercy allow it. Nerie is a beloved friend and I should confess that although I am ready and willing to make this journey, my heart tears a little at each thought of being so far from her. I shall have to make due with receiving her kindness in letters only. I couldn’t hope to ask for more as I feel I already take too much, even if it is only her company and thoughtful conversation.

Ah well, I should ‘Think to the horizon’ as grandfather used to say. Dwelling upon home before even leaving it will make the road bitter and journey’s end even more so, and I want home to taste sweet when I return. I believe the place I’m looking most forward to visiting is Telfin. It’s the city on the edge of the sea. I hear the tapestries that hang over the city streets match the seasons. I’m sad to say that I will be missing the city dressed in gold like the summer sun, but I’m sure that blue will be a lovely color to behold when I finally make it to winter. By then I hope to have made enough coin to participate in one of their winter social gatherings. I hear the music in Telfin is by far its most exquisite feature. I must be the judge of that, as I am one to think that a city’s food is its most important quality. The only issue I see with that is that telfin has so many different kinds of foods, being a port town. I should be careful, I may find it too revolting. Even worse, too delicious.

With that I can feel myself easing more into my travels. I should make many stories to share with my family, and Nerie ofcourse. Ah, yes, that’s the rub. I’ll return as a bounteous giver of gifts and stories. Perhaps I should take up an instrument while on the road to greater deepen my stories! It has been some time since I’ve sung, though. Aerin, the Merchant Musician. That is what will help me drift off to sleep tonight.

Aerin, Sun’s Pinnacle 37

I have been on the road for eighteen days and already I have made some very interesting new friends. A fellow merchant by the name of Garvin has been my travel companion since I left from Flotsam, one of the larger towns east of my homestead. Garvin is a Dwarf and every bit as hardy as I have heard. To think that I would’ve met a dwarf in my travels is astounding. Father said he met a family of them in his youth, but I’ve only heard stories. Garvin said to me that he travelled from the south and that his family is comprised mostly of craftsmen. He lacked their talents in making things but had all the makings of a good merchant. I’ve learned many tips of the trade from him, and I look forward to strengthening our friendship through our travels.

Things have been difficult in the trade, I must say. The war with the Gethrani has made people reluctant to purchase finery and whatever wares I have. I haven’t been completely without success, as a number of wealthier personages have purchased a significant amount of my goods. A few trinkets, jewelry, and fine pottery were sold off to allow me to make it through my next several weeks of travel. Damn this war. I’m tired of walking into villages and towns to see worried faces and hearing grim mutterings. My excitement for travel has been somewhat sullied as of late. Garvin says this will pass as the war winds down. With any luck, the Gethrani will be pushed out soon. All will be as it should be.

I received my first letter from Nerie today. A runner caught up with me on horseback and I will freely say that seeing that the letter was addressed from her lifted my spirits somewhat. Garvin kept trying to read over my shoulder, and I was getting agitated when he started prying into my relation to Nerie. He means well, but he can be a bit excitable. He was disappointed when I told him that she was just a dear friend and that all the letter spoke of was her dealings with the burdens of farm life. Her brother, Fenlin, was off fighting the Gethrani much like my own. He was on the North Eastern front, miles away from Graer, but they supposedly exchanged letters while not engaged in combat. According to Nerie’s brother, a series of strange blizzards have been blowing down from the far, far north. Certainly an odd occurrence during the middle of summer. I would speculate that this may be some kind of Gethrani magic, but I am no expert on such things. I only hope that Graer and Fenlin return home safely.

Aerin, Sun’s Pinnacle 55

Garvin and I had to reroute through a northern pass to a small town on the edge of the warfront called Verta due to a series of rockslides that made our originally plotted route untraversable. What we did not anticipate was that Verta had been under Gethrani occupation for some several months. Admittedly I had never met a Gethrani before, nor did I imagine that I would cross paths with one whilst on my travels. I thought as much about Dwarves before I met Garvin, however. They had a regality about them that I cannot quite place my finger upon. Their armor was light and etched with runes. They were draped with cloth embroidered with deep, vibrant blues. Their dress was somewhat lavish if disciplined compared to the more utilitarian military garb of the Veratovi. Once I shook myself of my awe at their appearance, I became aware of how much worse the somber spirits of the people in this village were.

Garvin and I made no sales at Verta. No one had coin to spare due to their need of supplies to keep both the town and their unwanted visitors fed, blanketed, and satisfied. Although, as one would suspect with most occupancies, the soldiers had first pick and were the more comfortable lot within Verta. Garvin likely lost the most between the two of us seeing as anything that even remotely could act as a weapon within his inventory was confiscated under the stipulation that he would only receive them back once we have left. This meant that over half of his wares, which were predominantly forged weapons and armor, were unavailable for him to sell. Not that anyone would be able to buy from him regardless.

The stay in Verta has been somewhat frustrating, but at least the food and the company we have kept has been pleasant. Garvin and I offered to help around one of the estates within the town in exchange for room and board in order to save coin. The Tothlin family, as they’re called, took us in happily. It took some convincing for Garvin to go along with it, but I think he has begun to warm up to the Tothlins. He often spends his time watching their children while I prepare food and clean, two things I am most familiar with given that those were what I took care of around my family’s household. Garvin likely misses his family back home. His own four children are young still as he’s told me, so it’s not difficult for him to handle the two Tothlin girls. Although, it is quite humorous that they are both taller than he.

The Tothlin’s have been helping keep the peace between the Gethrani occupancy and the townsfolk of Verta. Garvin and I have been able to use this to our advantage. Fenrig Tothlin, the household patriarch, has been able to secure important information to help us in our travels. What towns and villages are under occupancy, which ones are going to be under siege, and which ones are far enough from the warfront to be safe from any direct involvement in the war. Luckily most of our route we have scheduled to travel through is far from the warfront.

Aerin, Sun’s Descent 10

Our stay in Verta was extended due to our lack of proper paperwork and adequate coin to pay the tolls set up on the edge of town. Unfortunately, Garvin and I had to take to working for some of the local businesses in order to save enough to make it out. This truly has been an affair of mixed blessings. The Tothlins have extended the invitation to stay whenever we pass through to the both of us. If there is one thing I am truly grateful for it has been their kindness and hospitality. Though the company and the food has been good, we must be on our way again.

Something struck me as odd, however, as we were taking our leave from the town. The Gethrani soldiers seemed ill at ease. They were quiet, disturbed by something even. Fenrig confessed that he had heard little of the goings on of the war, which in and of itself was somewhat disquieting as the Gethrani were rather open with him about their victories and even their defeats to some extent. He said he had overhead one of the Gethrani captains speaking to a colleague of some disaster that had struck the northern front. Fenrig was unable to acquire details as to what had happened or the extent of the disaster itself, but one thing is certain, the Gethrani are terrified.

The leaves are beginning to change color now. I love the autumn months. So short lived, but so colorful and vibrant. I look forward to traversing the roads with this minagere all around me. I thank Pelor for such beauty.

Aerin, Sun’s Descent 23

Garvin and I stopped at a small village about halfway from where I had begun my journey to Telfin. I likely would have been significantly closer by now if it were not for our delay at Verta. This village has been much more lucrative for myself, however, as many of the farmers in the area are more well off than in our previous stops. Garvin, on the other hand, has been forced to keep moving. I shall miss his company, but he said he would await my arrival at Yonshire once my business had been conducted here.

I must say that my heart is heavy. I received another letter from Nerie today, but the news was of only heartbreak. Her brother, Fenlin was killed on the Northern front. Her writing seemed rushed and she told me that her and her family were making a journey south soon. She wished me well and gave me her love, but nothing more was said. I should hope that she is well. With any luck she will write me again soon. I have heard nothing of my own family. It is my deepest hope that they are well in this troubling time.

I can see blizzard clouds to the far north. Winter must be arriving exceedingly early this year. I should hope that Garvin has the means to keep warm through the storm.

Aerin, Sun’s Descent 28

I began making my way to Yonshire, but my path was blocked by a Veratovian barricade at the bridge that would have lead me there. The guards told me to pursue this path no further and refused to answer why. One of them took me to the side and encouraged me to seek no shelter at Yonshire and to take a more direct route west to Telfin. The guards here seemed just as uneasy as the Gethrani back in Verta. I was wise enough to not pry further, but I am quite concerned for the well being of Garvin. I do not know what is happening, but the whole countryside seems eerily quiet. Could it be the war? Are the Gethrani really so close to victory?

The clouds to the north seem much closer and more enormous than I had previously seen. This cold is unbearable, and I do not look forward to travelling through this weather so early in the year.

Aerin, Sun’s Descent 45

I’ve only received a few letters in the past several days. Travel has become a lonely, and to my shame, a harrowing affair. The letters only worsen my disposition. The first letter was from my family. Graer has been slipping in and out of consciousness since returning from the warfront. He mutters in his sleep of horrors and his sweat is cold. He screams late at night before falling back to restless sleep. He and a silent platoon, far too terrified to speak of what they had witnessed returned to our home village from the warfront. They will not speak or describe what they saw, only murmur of great beasts of an incomprehensible nature. What have the Gethrani unleashed in their desperation? Is is their doing? Or is this something we cannot comprehend?

What’s more, Garvin finally made contact with me, although I am uneasy at the contents of his letter. It simply read ‘Run. Go south and do not look back. I beg of you. Run.’ His handwriting was shaky and I could see tear stains upon the rough parchment. I’m certain all of this will be over with once I return home after making it to Telfin.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 3

I can see Telfin on the horizon. I have pushed through the journey so far in spite of all that I have dealt with and I will not let fear dissuade me from journey’s end. I will imbibe song and drink and all manner of wonders in this great city. It's bell towers touch the sunset and its ships from far off lands vary in size and shape. I can see it all upon this ridge where I have made camp. A pity that I may not be able to see it for much longer as there appears to be a storm coming in from the north. I can hear the thunder rolling like a marching army in the distance. Luckily I can take shelter in a cave nearby.

I stopped receiving letters from home and I will have to wait until I reach Telfin before I make any to have sent back. I will send good news. Father will be proud and I’ll be sure to send home money to help aid in Graer’s recovery.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 10

This storm has not weakened. It seems to only press on harder by the day. I can hear trees topple over in the distance. This is madness. I will be in Teflin soon. I only hope that my rations hold out long enough for me to weather this blizzard. It’s like nothing I have ever seen.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 25

I am terrified. I do not know how much longer I can last in this cave. I can only venture so far for firewood before the great winds overtake me. I fear that I might die here before I reach Telfin. Dearest Nerie, I hope your life is much longer lived than my own. I hope you find yourself healthy and happy, free of care.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 39

I believe myself to be sinking into madness. I could hear echoing through this endless storm, the sound of screams and ringing bell towers. Crashing stone and thunderous clamour. Like ghosts that would echo for hours into this eternal whitened night. I tried so very hard to cover my ears, but the wind only carried the noise to me as though it were upon the wings of torturous cherubim. I cannot sleep.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 41

The storm seems to be finally dying, or moving further south at the very least. I saw something as I emerged from my desperately claimed hovel. It must have been a trick of my solitude addled mind, but I feel in my very aching bones that it was real. In the distance, miles beyond my shelter I saw what appeared to be the silhouette of an immense figure plodding through the receding mirk of the blizzard. I could hear that thunderous march from before being carried south with the storm. Pelor protect me.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 48

I made it to Telfin. I finally came to my journey’s end and I do not have the words to describe what I have seen. When I approached the walls of the city, they were broken, the gates stood, but hung on their hinges like rags. The mid morning sun shined through smoke. As I walked slowly through a ruin. Telfin, it’s people, the music, the food. All of it. Dead. bodies strewn throughout the street without the surviving cry of a child or a call for help. What have I come upon? What hellish nightmare have I awakened to?

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 65

I have travelled for miles on my way home from the ruin of Telfin. Not a soul have I seen. Villages lay in abandonment or ruin. The dead lie scorched and frozen across the land. I fear I am the last of the people of the world. Thunder and clouds, and ice move south. Merciless. I am alone.

Aerin, Sun’s Rest 88

I have returned home. The house is toppled to the ground. Not even smoke remains. I must travel further. I will find shelter or die. What terrible dream I am to live now. Nothing remains but ice and fire. Will they come for me? Those great gods of death whose only song is thunder and screams? Has Pelor forsaken me? I cannot lay down and die. I must move on and hope. Can I hope? What is there to hope for when for a hundred leagues there is nothing but death. I can only mourn for the nothing that my people have become. Pelor grant me peace.

The Light of the Dawn will protect us, the Light of the Dawn will save us, The Night will fade away.