Worship of Apathatsclir
Greatest of all thinkers, time and again I prove myself a fool. I fear to have shamed thee by squandering my gifts. Please help me to sharpen my wits, the better to do thy will. My intentions are good but I am hapless.
Message to Advisor
Today I finally passed Lady Fluke's quest and rose in power. I met a mysterious figure who gave me an elixir that increased my speed, but all that was lost in a visit to the Physician who unexpectedly put me to sleep. It is always a step backward for every two forward it seems. I will continue to try and improve my Body.
Meeting the townsfolk
I spend a lot of my time cooking in the tavern so I meet a lot of Townies. Most of them like my pies although sadly my Fern hated the one I baked her. There is one Dwarf, Hakun, that I have become friends with and he gave me a shoulder to cry on. He lost his own love when he moved down to the Town from the eastern mines. He likes animals which was considered odd for a dwarf but we bonded talking about different beasts. Now he's a teamster between Lown and Anglesley.
Fern, art thou the gentle frond that shades the forest floor at noon with thy delicate beauty, or the crystal pattern that traces its fragile grace 'pon the window in the moonlight? My heart is yours by day and night. As we have picnicked on pie by the brook and swung from the branches of the wood, laughing until with fell on the moss, so shalt we always be merry and satisfied together. Say we shall not be parted!.
Mysterious Person at the Tavern
The willowy figure detaches itself from the shadows of the tavern. It lowers it's hood, revealing a lean, smooth face with pointy ears.
"Er… yer an elf."
The stranger grins wanly. "There is no deceiving you, Master Brocket. My name is Balsam Starsailor. I represent someone who… appreciates an excellent pie."
"Er… swell. Where are they then."
The elf gazes impassively at Brocket. "My Master is a private person. Suffice it to say, they have been watching your progress with great interest. They wish to give you a… leg up."
The young baker looks down at his legs, then up again. "Er… is that a short joke?"
The elf looks impatient to be gone. "They wish for you to have a gift to aid you." He profers a bag.
"Ye shoulda said! Much obliged, Sir. I'll make yer Lord a fancy pie an' no mistake!"