The Wraithwain Journal

This is an old leatherbound book. The pages look to be made of old parchment but are surprisingly sturdy. You wonder what art or devilry had given rise to this old book. It seems to magically update itself in your possession, with new entries being added every so often in a strong and firm, but sometimes illegible hand. You feel a sense of awe and wonder at this. Perhaps there is an original of this magical journal that you have found.

Journal Entries

January 11th, 2010

My new journal has arrived at last. The Trader took his time in getting my order out. Where do I start? Well, first, I did not expect to survive the Great Rebirth, but I am still here. Strange though, that I have no recollection of what has happened in the past before the madness of the Rebirth took over me. I feel as though I have spoiled my honour. As though, in a fit of madness, something came over me and I have done a great evil. It makes me feel sick to my heart.

I have found a small hut in the village Durham, and have chosen it as my residence. It is small and cozy, but anyone is welcome to stay and will have my protection, as little it may be. Also, it is worth a mention that I saw a Princess today. Imagine that? A Princess on this Light-forsaken Island. Creator, forgive me. I meant no disrespect. It is just difficult to imagine why a Princess would be here.

I will try to regain my honor now. Perhaps a quest could bring me back my lost honour. I will find a worthy cause and my participation will bring back my lost honor and perhaps, glory in death as well.

January 20th, 2010

I've decided to try and grow myself a garden. Thinkers of old always admired the beauty of nature. I think an apple tree will be a good tree for my garden. But first... I need one of those newly imported seed bags. I need help obtaining one though.

January 21st, 2010

I have obtained a seed bag from the Trader. And, I have attempted to grow an apple tree beside my home. Lord Crichton is here for some reason, but I value his company as I try my hand at bringing forth life. I have emptied ten bottles of water on this new plant, and I hope it springs to life. Apples are quite rare since the Magic Mountain decided to cease being magical.

January 22nd, 2010

My little plant has sprouted. A warm feeling fills my heart at this sight of life. I will water it daily to keep it alive, or have someone water it in my stead. I killed a parrot who attempted to perch on my newly sprouted plant. As I killed it, it spoke to me that "Stonerkitten is a hot chick!" or some such barbaric talk. As I stared at its eyes glazed with death, I felt a tug at the back of my mind that something similar had happened before, something about talking birds. I must be going mad. Mad with joy because of my plant. Yes, that must be it. Birds cannot talk. This is utter madness. Birds cannot talk. I will get to the bottom of this talking bird phenomenon.

January 30th, 2010

I was sitting under the shade of my apple tree when a curious thing happened. A rather decent man came walking up to me, with those fire-staffs on his shoulder. He demanded from me and my apple tree the truth whether we were plotting against the Royalty's rule. He was mad, I think. Mad enough to threaten a tree with a blade. Strange things truly happen on this island.