Viaja sits down on her bed, blank paper in hand and sets the ink on the corner of the bed, wedging it between the bed and wall to keep it from tipping. Pen in hand she looks at the paper then chuckles to herself, gets back up and grabs a book to place under the paper and returns to the bed. She begins writing
“To learn from our journey, we must find time to be introspective and consider our experiences.”
She raises the pen and looks with head crooked to the side at the paper. Minutes pass and she sighs impatiently. “Clearly this isn’t working,” she thinks to herself. Grabbing her supplies she heads to the common room, sits at a quiet table and tries again, but not a mark makes it to the paper before she decides this isn’t working either. She rises again and heads to one of the bridges heading out of Blackmire. Sitting with her feet dangling into empty space, she leans over the book that she brought, paper on top and begins writing again.
“The graveyard was full of undead as expected. What wasn’t expected was just how useful that little sling that I picked up would be. Many skeletons fell because of the bullets flung from it, some with only one hit! I wonder how much more damage I could do with a bow (clearly not to skeletons but in general). This is something that I need to look into.”
Viaja spends a few minutes looking out over the water of the river, then stands up, crosses to the other side of the bridge and lays down on her stomach, using the planks of the bridge she continues writing.
“The adventurers here are impressive. Bronson and Ba’zou and Isidren, they all did a tremendous job combatting the undead. I’m not sure how many skeletons we killed but there was even a large bugbear skeleton that we destroyed! And there were zombies and ghouls too. The ghouls turned out to be the worst. I think that we were all paralyzed at one point except for Bronson and he took such vicious hits that he was unconcious and near death when I was able to move again. Only Isidren’s unknown talent for binding wounds saved his life until I could heal him.”
Viaja stands again, looks around, and picks a tree and climbs it before continuing to write while sitting on a branch.
“The adventurers here spend too much time in town and too little time on the road for my liking. I’m not good at being still. But I hear that this is the place to experience the ultimate form of travel, using the obelisks. I will find a way to be still at least until I get an opportunity to have that experience.”
With that she decides she’s written enough and returns to her room to put away the paper and writing supplies.