Destined to Become Queen

I knew it was only a matter of time. Today, Baheshtur came to me, whining of a dispute he'd had with Katrin. While going through loot after a recent battle, he had found a very decent cooking pot. A pot. The dispute was over a pot. "Often I had wished to find such a pot, so I could boil some of the stews that my people use to warm their bellies during the winter months," he tells me. "But Katrin grabs the pot, and tells me that I will not be allowed to taint it with heathen food."

Sigh. I really can't believe Katrin's behavior. I told Baheshtur that he has my support on this, and that Katrin should hold her tongue. Hopefully things will even out at some point, but I worry. I'd like both Katrin and Baheshtur to remain in the party.

Otherwise, not much has happened of note. We've been wandering up and down the coast, making a living off of butchering sea raiders. They're a lot of talk. They jump us and scream things like, "Less talking, more raiding!" or "That's a nice head you have on your shoulders!", but ultimately they are like gnats against our band, easily swatted away. It's a bit boring, but the money is good.

My name is Laure.

Yes, it's pronounced like "lore". Who knows? Perhaps it is from my legend that the word was drawn.

Drawn by the stories I have heard about Calradia and its kingdoms, I have decided to join a caravan to Praven, in the Kingdom of Swadia. Here on these pages I will tell you my tale.

The caravan I joined has taken me through the heartland. Green shoots of wheat, barley and oats are beginning to push through the dark soil of the rolling hills, and on the lower slopes of the snowcapped mountains, herds of cattle and sheep are grazing on the spring grass. Occasionally, I catch sight of one of the great warhorses that are the pride of the Swadian nobility. The land here is rich—but also troubled, as the occasional burnt-out farm bears witness.

It was some relief when I crested a ridge and caught sight of the great port of Praven, its rooftops made golden by the last rays of the setting sun.

( But on my very first night here, I was jumped by a thug in the street! )