Dear Diary,
Fredric is dead and with him, goes the bulk of the towns books and writing supplies. I still have a number of books and letters he wanted me to transcribe as part of my training, but the everything else is going up in smoke as I write this. They don't seem to mind us living here, but they are quiet fastidious in the removal of homes and shelters for the written word.
It's part of what is called the "Fragile peace" between the series of smaller settlements and the Barbarians who own much of the land surrounding. I'm told that every places agreement with the wild tribes is different, and that for the most part we're left alone because there are bigger worries for the Barbarians then small settlements of mostly High Humanity. With the internal, and external struggles with other factions taking up most of their attention.
As the gathering hall is also on fire, my coming of age celebration has also gone the wayside, which is just as fine as I'm pretty sure I've been of age much longer than they realize. It doesn't stop the lurid stares, but it keeps them from going further for most part.
Did I mention that my families home is also on fire? I'm mostly writing this huddled in a pile of blankets that I've gathered that smell of smoke and stain my remaining clothing with soot. Beneath it is the collection of things I've saved, and an old pair of boots that belonged to a man that had lived with us for a short time. The soles are coming apart, but it keeps the bottoms of my feet from touching the cold ground.
I'm heading to Nanthalion, as while it is Barbarian controlled land, they also have Unigo, some place called Umbara, and a shop for spells that is for the most part unmolested by the locals. I can hardly imagine it!
The carriage is almost here, I need to pack all these things away before it arrives in case we get stopped by Barbarians patrol on the way.
Until then,
Mandy.