March 24, 1033
I left the Temple of Boccob shortly after dawn yesterday, with low mist hugging the roads and a red sun rising slowly over the hills. It was such a pretty spring morning that I was sorry to be leaving. Xanda got up with me, principally to wave goodbye from the doorway as I traipsed the cold roads in my new blue clothing, my bag of holding slung lightly over my shoulder. I turned and waived back just before I lost sight of her, and I will always remember the way the Temple looked that morning, all shrouded in mist. As soon as I got to town my tranquil mornin ceased, of course. There were at least a dozen people piling their things in wagon after wagon, bustling around the little square. I felt quite lost before an older human male noticed me and pointed me in the right direction.
I’m riding with Honey and Handy in their wagon. They’re as cute as their names sound, an old and wrinkly human couple selling Handy’s prize wood carvings and Honey’s prize weaving. Most of the group are Humans, and I find them quite energetic. The obscene amount of energy they have must contribute to their short life spans. They just can’t keep it up for that long! I haven’t spent much time with any but Elves in a long time. I must be quite a sight to see, piled in the wagon like another sack of cloth, bouncing away in uncomfortable misery on the worst roads in the country. I couldn’t have picked a worse time for travel, with the rains making muddy holes in all the major byways. We should be reaching Brindol on the 29th, and hopefully the closer to town we get, the better the roads will be. I’m crossing my fingers.
I volunteered for the first watch tonight with a few others, spaced evenly about the campsite. It’s been a beautiful night, with clusters of sparkling stars bejeweling the heavens. It doesn’t look like it will stay that way for long, though. An ominous cloud has just begun to form on the horizon. I fear it will be days of rough travel in pouring rain for us from now on. In some ways I love spring, but in others I wish I could just skip it!
March 28, 1033
It was just as I feared. Pouring rain with little let up these last three days. We can see Brindol now, a wide circle of gray stone and painted wood in the valley below. Little bits of color flutter from the ramparts, the red flags standing out against the cloudy sky. Tomorrow I’ll be there!