Freydag, 40th of the Raven
F.40.R It rained axebeaks yesterday! The poor things just falling out of the sky, making an awful mess. Some of the sevenfolk tried to pluck and roast them, Trumi said, though I guess this is easier said than done – the hides are tough as leather and taste rotten. Some of the larger boys were kind enough to clear away the horrible mess from around the house.
Holes in the sky, raining axebeaks, in all my years I’ve never seen such things!
Although, I suppose it’s possible I have, but can no longer recall. Memories come and go more frequently now. I can tell when I’ve said something nonsensical because Solaufein gets that scowl on his face, the dear. I tell him when you’ve lived 600 years and managed to avoid succumbing to the many calamities and terrors of this world, a little historical relativism is nothing to rail against.
It’s like the White Book says: Who else but Mimir can tell fact from fancy, and She’s not telling.
Mimdag, 2nd of the Bear
M.2.B Tika, Toff and Mila came to visit today, the young dears. They had another boy with them, a half-orc lad they called Crunk. He seems younger than the twins, and doesn’t say much, but he was hungry and very sweet. Mila says when she found him he was hanging around the merchant gate, lifting scraps from feeding troughs over by the square and about got trampled by a 4th tier never-you-mind.
The weather is turning; I think the Bear may slumber early this year.
Sola was excited about some new research at breakfast; he is being coy, like he always is at the start of a project, but I’m sure he’ll tell me about it soon enough. I hope he isn’t delving into things he shouldn’t.
Oh! It’s Mimdag already. I must make haste if I’m to make the temple by Sun’s Hour. The walk seems longer every span.
Thordag, 4th of the Bear
T.4.B Sola had that look again. He’s been searching for something to “fix me,” he says, though what he thinks is broken I haven’t the foggiest, and when I told him so he seemed so angry I thought he would snap his soup spoon in two. He went to market at barely Soul’s Hour this morning and locked himself in the basement upon his return.
Some children came by the house this afternoon, three humans and a half-orc. The were much too familiar with me for someone they had never met, but that’s upbringing in the Modern Era for you. No respect. They were filthy and half-starved so despite their rudeness I gave them Sola’s leftovers from breakfast, which vanished faster than a merchant on tax day, and I admonished them to speak more carefully to their elders. I haven’t lived this long to be spoken to so.
Syfdag, 6th of the Bear
S.6.B Something horrible has happened to the sky! A great hole, some sort of tear; Trumi from over River Way says the moon itself is cracked! I wish my young man Solaufein would come calling. I’ve not seen him in a span of days and I fear this city’s prejudice. A drow will never be welcome in Uman, I told him. I would run away with him but he says he could never anger Father so.
Mimdag, 12th of the Bear
M.12.B Is this mine? Something is wrong, I know. I found this diary. My husband is gone. Sola, please, where are you? Gone. Gone to earth. Father should never have sent you away. I will follow you, my beautiful blue boy!
Some children came to the house. They say I am to feed them. Was this Father’s doing? He’s so kind. He must have gone out.
There is a foul smell coming from the basement. I shall have to see what’s causing it.