Today, I am called Brand the Humble. This is the name and title that I have inherited in my life thus I intend to use it well. I hope that it gives the impression of a respectable fellow to any would-be allies. It is true my mother was seduced, and my father left her for the glories of battle and lust… However many things could be assumed about me due to my heritage as Half-orc, and these accusations could easily be dismissed by name alone. I need only build my name on a foundation of honor for it to be so. If it is my true destiny to become the next Ruler of Kings, I shall start on my path by building my name on the honor of my word.
My age is now 20 years, but according to the years of man I would be considered 16. Barely a man myself, and yet capable to compete with most untrained men a few years my senior in physical competition. This is all because of my heritage as a half-orc, which has even made for naturally sculpted muscle to begin forming on my lean frame from extended travel. I stand over 6 feet, my shoulders are broad and my masculine jaw protrudes barely, having an underbite that exposes two inhuman fangs in the lower row of teeth. In general, my appearance is rough yet stoic. My skin is reddish like dull brick. While my sharp eyes are a plain brown. My shoulder-length, black hair is wild and unkempt, often tied into a rear knot. To many, I would likely appear capable, although I bare no arms to my name.
In my pursuits, I see myself seeking the skills of thieves and swordfighters. My time in the taverns as a youth has taught me to respect the skills of a scoundrel, so long as I hold myself to a higher standard than one. My first priority is to affirm my interest in some working opportunities around town and gain familiarity with the kin who live here. Becoming practiced in diplomacy and charisma will not be too difficult, I suppose. I speak better than most and have no negative predisposition toward the other races. When it comes down to carrying out the personal tasks however, I prefer not to drag my allies into such conflicts unnecessarily.
Finishing the contents of my short entry, I practice a signature at the bottom of the page. It will have to be worked on.
A Sentimental Value: Ring of Solace
This Ring of Solace is the first and only piece of jewelry afforded to me as a boy. It was a gift from my Mother. Once it was given to me, I was told a superstitious story about how it may serve to ward away evil spirits and energy that may seek to attach to my soul. Not to say that I didn't believe in my mother wholeheartedly, but talking of souls and spirits always came easier when speaking to the gurus. I have not learned much in the way of souls and spirits nonetheless; I took this keepsake as a memory of my birthplace and carry it in my pocket at all times. My hands/fingers have grown too thick to still wear the silver band.
After getting an introduction on dice games and gambling from Stefan, I took leave from the tavern. When I exited, a lithe and dark-haired woman could be noticed standing immediately to my flank. We met each other's eyes with equal defensiveness and confusion - I almost thought I'd be robbed by some woman assassin! She dressed simply, albeit her cloth was more fancy than mine. The woman stopped me on my way and introduced herself as Catherine, an elder stepsister to me and relative of my clan. In our conversation I noticed Catherine's tired eyes, which had developed dark circles around and underneath them.
Doubtful yet respectful, I dismiss such relations at first. However, as the commoner names my mother and describes my birthplace I become more assured of her candidness. Catherine could be a witch, surely. To have tracked me down despite my name having no merit at all, it gives me a sense of unease. Anyone could believe their parents cared enough to send for a personal advisor. I do not believe such things easily. We will have to see what guidance Catherine has to offer, although I do not doubt her wisdom. The woman speaks well and has better upkeep than peasant-folk without being a complete harlot. Perhaps she seeks to steer me away from the barbarism and aggression often suspected of Orcs.
The Beauty of Lady Fluke
A serenade to the Lady Fluke, A fair maiden! Not a lad or lass can rebuke, A beautiful lady such as thee.
Ye be brawny as an Orc, Soft as a tree, The queen of thy court, An honor it is for me, To write a serenade to Lady Fluke!