Thentis. City of Blackwine.. City of hope.. city of him.

Looks like we are heading home. Well to his home, that of my Master. He wants him and Lolita's child to be born under the roof he too was born under. Under the same stars that he came into the world under. He wants to go home. I don't blame him. Home is where you make it.. I can go anywhere with him and be happy. I will follow him to the moons and back if necessary. Since our separation I often find it hard to be away from him for any amount of time for very long. I am glad this time that he is taking us with him. He has told me some things that I find surprising but amusing as well. I can't wait for Derra to find out. It's going to be funny the expression on her face when she realizes what happened.

I love my Master.. one can never know the depth of love I have for this man. I know Derra loves him.. but not like I do.. my Master and I know things about each other just from a glance.. its like we are connected by more then the heart at times.. he is my compass, my north star, my reason for living.. just yesterday he reminded me of this..

 

 

( To be Continued )



His.

I spent the morning with my Master a few hands back and well..the intensity of his need for me had not changed one bit in 20 vars. You could see it in his eyes while he used me. Hear it in his words as he pounded home his Mastery of me.. I am still his. I am his slave. I will never belong to another like I do him. When he finally takes his journey to the city of dust I will walk hand and hand with him into the flames. Unlike when I was the slave of Tarm.. I know I would not survive the death of Mallick Rel Tarnsman of Thentis. He is under my skin, in my heart and the marrow of my bones. Everything I am.. is his. He is a part of every inch of me. Every breath I take is because he allows it. I never thought I could love like I do him. Don't get me wrong.. I love Tarm. He was my world, he broke down every wall and fence and barrier I had and placed himself within the valves of my heart so deep it beat for him. But in the end things had changed. He sold me.. he sent me away and he scared me for life. When he returned for me we were both distant and scarred of what the other would do or say.. and just when we were on the right track he was dead. He freed me in his last will and testament. A last barb to a damaged heart. It was Mallick that found the me within the shell. It was him that coaxed the slave girl I am from the ashes of that pyre. He found me.. living free and suffering and made of me a slave.. his slave. I bent and molded and shaped me to his liking.. and in the end.. the love I felt for him overcame all. He might not Love me in the traditional sense.. perhaps it is more of an obsession he holds of me.. but it is intense.. and total and in the end.. it makes me his. I am glad he makes it so. I have not spent much time with him since that day... and I am tied up in knots without him. Perhaps tonight I will beg an Inn guard to truss me up and lay me at the foot of his couch for his enjoyment when he gets there...

 



Time long gone and forgotten... looking to the future.

It has been so long.. no years since I have had need to pen words in this book. I take that back.. I had a need.. but I didnt have the presence of mind or the drive to do so. I was not inspired.. I was a broken shell of a slave living on borrowed breath and time. Allll those years my Master had left me in Ar to be watched over by the scribe and his brood.. Master Zeb and his tavern, Madeline the slave and my friend, all of them.. gone. One by one until I was left in the hands of an angry city on the verge of a civil war. I had no idea if my Master still lived much less wanted me any longer. As the years and time went by, I served, I fucked, I was rented and used. I was threatened with death and freedom and so much else just like before.. and when I for real had grabbed the proverbial knife, and was about to slice the rope and just give up.. a shadow showed itself at the door of my kennel. Only the silhouette of the man was visible before the bright bright light that shined behind him. More then 20 years.. and I knew in an instant who that shadow belonged to. It was Him. It was my Master... Mallick Rel. I thought for sure I had been dreaming, but I threw myself at his feet at the inside of the door and wept. He turned and walked away and I heard him speak to the man at the end of the hall, heard the exchange of coin change hands and then he was gone. He did not take me then. It was three days later I was taken from my kennel. Washed and given a clean though plain yellow camisk and sent to the tarn cots with a perfect stranger. I was scared. Why would he spend coin to send me to another? I was hooded and strapped to the saddle of this man's bird and flown from Ar like a bad habit. Days.. it took days before I was released from the saddle a final time and unhooded near a building near a beach. So we were near Thassa.. the crashing waves... they were like music.. but I was not yet able to truly appreciate them at that moment. Taken by the bicep I was dragged into the inn and left in a room, told to kneel by the door and wait. Wait I did... for hours more.. when all of a sudden.. I was called for and taken from the room. I had an idea what was going down before they came for me.. but I was not sure. I was sent to the baths.. I was bathed and oiled and made pretty by other women. I was perfumed and wrapped in bangles and small delicate chains and slave bells and told to return to the room. When I opened the door.. there he was, lounging on a chaise.. with a woman close by on another and they were eating.. I froze for a moment and was soon on my feet making a run for the man who owned me heart, mind, body, and soul. I did not care for the punishment.. I didn't care what would happen.. I took a running start and threw myself onto him and kisses him like I had imagined sooo many times while I was away from him. OOh kings it was like heaven. I am soo very glad to be back at the feet of my Master.. I am so very glad he knows and he never gave up on his promise to come back for me.. I am so very glad I am his.. and in some small way... he is mine too. I love him.

Did I mention the companion... well she is a real peach. She is however for another entry.



The fountain and the raven

There has been nothing for so long. The city finally figured it out and has found it in it's best interest to claim my neck until they can some how make contact with he who owns me. I say good luck. I have been all over Gor and have made many a connection durning the time of my freedom and none of those people have seen my owner. Perhaps he has been injured.. or worse? I may never know. Regardless of this situation I find myself in, I miss him, however the scribe I miss even more. I wander now and then to the gardens that He and Madeline and I used to frequent, to relax by the fountain, to pick flowers for bouquets, other reasons I wont get into here. But on one of those recent endeavors I came across a man. No, I have not bedded down with him, he hasn't even kissed me or touched me in any overt sexual way. We have had words, and he stimulates my mind, and that I find more then physical beauty has a physical effect on me in a strange way. This man, not super attractive, except maybe in sleep when he looks almost innocent and definitely passive, does not pussy foot around a inquiry. He is blunt, and shrewd from what I have seen of him, and as much as I am sure it may scream danger and maybe even death, I find myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Is it wrong that I may want him so soon after the city has taken claim of me. They say if Mallick shows they will hand me over no problem, what if I don't want to be here when he does?

Scraps of Parchment 3

I was taken to Thentis. He, my Master thought it would be nice to show me what it is he does when he is gone for so long. I was content to be taken instead of left behind but I was left alone all the of the time I was there. Once or twice I was taken for a tarn ride over the mountain range it was beautiful. I can see why he loves his city but I am not that interested in it. Sure I was given blackwine, thick and syrupy caffinated goodness that it is.. and I enjoyed it, but that was only twice and it was to warm me after the tarn flights. I was up all night on those nights with nothing to do but think. Once upon a time I was rented by a paga den owner from Mallick to attract attention to his den. In that service I was given to spending long periods of time with The Scribe and Madeline. The Scribe and I have been friends for many many en'vars and have on more then one occasion settled into quiet contemplation in sprawl on the grass in a park or at the den. There has never been the call for sex and violence between me and the scribe. He was safe in the way that I knew I would not be violated upon arrival at his feet. I cared for him like he was a great friend, because he was. More often then not we would talk about random and normal stuff like I would speak to my other friends. About my Master, about his slave who was also my friend... The Scribe I miss. He became sick just before I left for Thentis. Tale being told he abandoned his slave and just vanished. Madeline now belongs to the woman who mothered one of the scribes sons so long ago. Catastrophe. A physician here in Ar. I have seen her since.. she is different, wounded in some way that will probabally never change. I heard tale of a certain floppy haired Scribe returning to Ar. I wonder of my friend has returned with him....

Scraps of Parchment 2

I spent one night in the collar of Zeb Bronson. I went to the den where I sat in a corner and was pissed off like no other. That night I went to my kennel and decided I would not let the loss of Mallick bother me. I woke in the morning and went to the market and purchased foods for a nice breakfast. I cooked for him. It was a large breakfast with eggs and bacon and toast with fresh fruit, and juice and jam for the toast. He was pleased. He was enjoying the breakfast.. but mostly ignoring me like usual when out of no where... in walks my former owner. In full regalia like he just walked in from some military parade. Instantly tears came to my eyes. I could not believe I was seeing him after all this time. My Master.. He watched me. While speaking to Zeb he watched me a moment but did not call me to him. That was when he noticed my collar.. he was not pleased. He called me to serve him breakfast. I went and got him a platter.. it was alot of confusion after that but in the end I left with him. I went to the metal smith and he replaced my old collar after some minor repairs. Its tighter on my neck then before.. but Im ok with that. That night I slept at Smoke and Mirrors for the first time in a long while. He did not use me. He kissed me and sent me to the mat. He did not even chain me. But he did tell me that he would not be traveling as often.. but his work in Ar would be keeping him busy most days but I would see him more often. I havent seen him since but he has left me notes and reminders that he cares. The Scribe... I saw him at the arena the next night after the fiasco with the collar. He had an odd look on his face when he looked at me as I came into view at the tunnels end. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head when I knelt at the bottom seat of the stands and lowered myself to the floor. He called my name and I looked up at him and he wore a frown. I did know why. Sooner rather then later however I ended up at his side. He pulled me closer.. eventally shifting me so that I was in a better positon at his side. His fingers in my hair.. my cheek to his leg. The semblance of control. I think he gets it. For a few moments I felt calm. Then something happened with Madeline. She started squirming and I mentally paniced. I didnt know why. It happened when I got closer and when he closed his legs around her. I thought she was over the issues with being restrained.. I suppose the large arena with all the people around spooked her. I just pray it wasnt me so close that caused it. When He, Mads and I parted ways.. he told me to come to Stylus before I headed back to the Smoke and Mirrors... I had buisness with someone who had rented me back when I was in Zeb's hands so he told me to come the next day. I suppose I should do that...

a piece of parchment

( Random scraps of parchement stuffed into her satchel until she stuffs them in her journal ) Madeline has my book, I will have her keep it, maybe to keep it away from him. He, he sent me to the metal smith and had my collar removed and replaced with a collar of a den slave. One thing I never wanted to be again was a paga slave. Billboard, sure.. paga whore.. no. Perhaps I will beg for freedom. Mallick.. he came to me and said it would be different. Then Zeb over stepped the line. Maybe it was to force Mallick's hand, maybe it was his greediness.. who knows. Has not changed a fucking thing. I went to the den last night like always.. and was ignored... like always. I used to care.. now I am just a shell. Im so disenchanted by the whole idea that things could of been different. IM a puppet.. hollow and dangling from the strings that control me.. or in this case.. the strings that leave me to hang in a limbo I can not understand. The Scribe will be furious I think, God in heaven knows I am.

In knots

I feel violent inside. I want to bash my fists into peoples faces for no reason. I want to kick and scream and scratch my eyes from my face. I dont know where this anger, this rage is coming from but it's horrible. I feel like an abandoned child in a jungle in the Amazon waiting for the missionaries to find me and make me whole. Feed me, give me education, inoculations, and love. I know these things are not something Gorean.. and I know I am just being angry.. but one time.. for five minutes I would love to feel half of what I used to sitting on the Irish coast, Happy and at peace with myself and my world knowing where I was going and why. I would love to feel the of the breeze, the salty air... to know I had a goal.. a mission.. But no. I am here.. under the rule of men, not my God, and I feel after 90 plus years.. that I will never feel that way again. I had it for a time with Tarm. Peace.. Love, focus, a goal.. but he is gone now. I thought I had it when I was free.. feeding children, offering help when I could... taking care of things for people.. learning the ways of warriors and scribes alike. But no.. its not there now.. and I wish I could feel it. In control of myself, controled by a purpose.. by another, a stronger mind then my own to guide me on a path to righteousness... worth, and love. I am torn.. in threes, knotted up in ropes I can not free myself from. Love, Friendship, and Adoration. In that order. What do you choose? Who's path do you place yourself on? How long can it go on before you crack? I sure as shit hope I dont have to find out. He came to the clearing while I was preparing to write this. The Scribe, something happened with Portia that I missed while I was out of the den. I will have to inquire from the dark beauty later..... ( entry ends here because Zeb called her to his feet )

He knows...

He said it to me yesterday, " I know " but I don't know who, or what he was talking about. He could of been talking to Madeline.. because she was there too. Maybe he was even talking to Portia.. I am not sure.. there were alot of us around the man. At one point I was kneeling there beside him, and next thing I know his nails are pressing into my scalp.. and he is guiding my head down to his thigh. I wasnt sure what I did to cause it.. but then I was there. At one point his grip tightened.. I was in pain.. but I think I may have almost smiled. That was when he said it... I dont understand... maybe.. I will ask him some day. He tattooed Madeline again. On the tender side of each of her wrists are tiny red and black letters. One L and one S. It's amazing to me how much better she is under his steel. She's fuckin beautiful. I wish.. for five minutes I could feel like she does. I miss feeling that under control. I was in the den the other night. There were a few other slaves in attendance and I think even the Scribe and Madeline may of been present. I served him, Zeb. I went to his feet with a water skin and offered it to him. For the first time in I dont know how long he looked at me. I could feel his eyes on me.. and he commanded me not to move from the upstretched position of my serve. The leer of his gaze was intense... I thought for once.. he noticed me. A rented slave in his den. Soon after however I was sent off to serve and I moved away... he didnt feign any notice of me after. Perhaps if I begged his steel he would deam to pay me notice.. though I doubt it. I need to find control... the more it slips away... the worse I feel.. maybe that is what he knows..

A spoon

I talked with the Scribe the other evening. It came down to selflessness. He challenged me. To selfless acts. He said at the end of the hand, which is today, he wanted me to come to him with selfless acts I had performed for people at the fair, or elsewhere. I am glad to say that I completed seven. I purchased for him a turtle stien.. it was cute, decorative. I also got him a Pewter drinking mug with a mermaid on the handle. He liked the breasts... pig scribe. Also I purchased Dancing Silks for Madeline because I know its in there.. she just has to be reminded. I wanted her to know that I see it.. and I could help if she needed it. That day while walking around the tents I stopped and offered to help a young merchant who seamed to be having trouble setting up her awning. She was very greatful that somone stopped to help. I smiled at her and declined when she offered to pay me for my services or rather my owner. I said it was my pleasure. I moved on. Number four was the night the Scribe joined the two young kids that attend the academy with Nash and Rami. They needed wine, and a candle.. so I rushed off into the merchants tent and procured them for the couple so they might be joined. It was the least I could do after all. I was on a roll. Number six was simple. I helped a pregant slaver take down her laundry from the line and folded it for her because her own slaves were off Whoring at the fair. It wasnt super selfless because she did demand I take five copper tarsks but later for number seven I had passed her camp and saw her attempting to pull down an awning that could of been dangerous if she fell from the small stool, so I stepped in and ended up remaining and helping another slave break down a fence and tear down some more of the camp. After that I went back to The Arian camp and sought out the Scribe. He was sleeping or tending the young ones so I went back to seeking more good deeds, I liked doing them, it felt good. A few hours later I came across him in the merchants tent. He ordered me to bend over. Apparently I was bad, I was smacked good and hard in the ass with a wooden spoon that he paid for and then, he handed it over to me. It hurt. He told me that was what I got for running down the gravel road alone through the night. I suppose now that I think about it I could of been kidnapped or eaten by sleen.. but I wanted to get back intime for the joining that didnt take place tonight. We will see. I suppose we are leaving in the morning at first light. I am going to the Merchant' s tent for candy and helping Madeline finish packing up the trunks and hittin the sack.. daylight comes between us...

First

There is a violent storm brewing in the center of my brain. I am discontent. I am tired of being that slave. My heart pounds in my chest to remind me I am still alive but often I feel like a cardboard cut out of my former self. I have been allowing myself to be blind to the idea of truly being Mastered. Sure I am a slave. I serve, I beg, I fuck, hell I even dance. But I am not Mastered. Im tired. I pissed off and frankly I feel a little violent. I want to lash out and men and demand they recognize me for who and what I am. I want to be known as the slave Kamaria. The woman who wooed the judges at the dance contest at the Se'Kara fair and won first place along with another slave. Tied.. though told by several persons who watched that Mine was better. The passion that inspired that dance.. I want to be known for it! I am tired of being that fuckin slave. The one people feel is safe because I kneel quietly in the corner and say " yes Master " and " Thank you Master " and beg to serve and such. I dont want to be safe. I want to be cherished and fought for and relished. I want to be owned, and not by a man that leaves me in the care of another so he can collect money while I wallow in wait. I hate it! I wish you could understand how frustrating it is. He told me he loved me and sent me to serve in a paga den and disapeared. I am so used to this.. I am sick. I look around myself. I see what it seamed to be like for others and it makes me want to kill something. It's stupid to be angry. But even the man who rents me has no idea who I am or what I feel. What I want or need. How I should be trained or treated. He lets me run wild. I cant understand it. I won. I danced my ass off ( Thanks Hazel! ) and I won.. but there was no one to revel in my victory with. The night I won.. I went to my furs in camp and cried. Every day since.. not one word from the one who rents me, the ones I share a camp with, no one. Fuck it. I give up.

differences and sameness.

I have been in the possession of Zeb Bronson for many many moons now. I am just a rented slave for the use of his den, being as my owner is busy flying back and forth between the Voltai and Ar near constantly. More often then not I am sent out into Ar with some form of advertizement attached to my body to bring clients to his den. It has been a long time since I have seen my owner. It as been an even longer time since I have felt like someone, instead of somewhere's slave. I have been on Gor for sooo long, I can hardly remember my village as the Scribe likes to call it. The short excursion to my former planet with Zeb and the two women I call my friends, Skirt and Madeline was not to the earth I remember. In the end.... I had a nervous break down of sorts and begged to be returned to Gor. Call it Stockholm syndrome.. call it what you like.. I didnt fit in at the former village any longer. Speaking of the Scribe. I think he has noticed my antsiness. In all these years I have known him. His and my relationship has been a kind of hands off respectful observance of eachother. An occasional serve of food and an often long distance appericiation of the man. I suppose I would call him friend if a Man and a slave could legitimately be such, he looks out for me I think, and I him if called for. Well resently I have been more so drawn to seek his company. I think because in some place inside of me I think he is safe. Not safe in a " i wont kill you or beat you for being an idiot, slave" kind of way but I do not think he is interested in me outside of our occasional meetings and I will never love someone like I do Tarm. Not even Mallick has that much love from me and I love him, very much.. just in a different way. Reguardless.. The Scribe owns Madeline.. and I would not want to impede on the perfection of their bond. Sure.. I serve the Scribe with as much favor as many men I enjoy serving.. knowing I dont have to worry. I am losing my point here.. He has noticed I think. His focus on me when I am at his feet seams to be more focused. One night he even kept me in his at his feet even after Madeline arrived. I was nervous. I didnt want her to be unhappy with me. Im sure she could understand though.. the draw to want to be near her owner. He told me if I needed it I could come to his home and sleep if I needed to. He didnt turn me away when I arrived at his door. I slept three nights inside of the house, a comfortable enough mat given me near a warm fire. I have yet to thank him properly. I will have to think of a way. It seams we, the girls of the den and Zeb are going to the fair. I will ask Zeb if he will enter me into the dance contest. Maybe I could win.. or at least Maybe place in the top three.... <>

back in the saddle again

It was all so quick... one day I met him in the falls park, and a little over a hand later, I was his slave. I was amazed to find out that he had me investigated and followed in thee time between the time we ment and the time he chased me down in the gardens and had me stripped. Things have been a wirlwind of experiences ever since, the collaring, the first use in 20 years... the beating with a switch. I have not seen a man like him in 20 years. I am affraid alot of the time, but it is exciting too. He is a man that knows what he wants and will do what he must to get it. I only hope I can commit to his collar the devotion I had for Tarm.. he would expect nothing else.

memories...

     Half of me.. wants to forget about you..

the other half thinks that is the worst thing that I can do.

And I dont know... dont know which side is right...

but I have listened to some people tell me

they have waited such a long time for something..

 they say two days is such a long time...

but I have waited five years for this

and now something has gone terrible wrong.

You say that you know what I mean..

but that's impossible..

I was so damned close

but now its gone and I dont know what to do...

 

      I have these moments sometimes where the presence of My former Master is soo close it is like his spirit has reached out and gently touched my face. I miss him like breathing half the time.. and the other half the time I can see nothing but his face everywhere I turn. The apartment seams cramped all of a sudden, the city too close.. I feel a wanderlust coming on but I do not have the money to hire someone to escort me to  Thassa to take that trip to saite it. I wish I could find something to take the pain away. Something... someone.. who knows. Sometimes I think slavery is the answer.. I mean at least in the collar with the proper handling one feels like they have a reason or purpose.. here.. and now.. I feel as if I am hanging my ass out of a car window and waiting for something to snatch me out and take me away. God do I miss cars..

Blue paint... and BlueBells.

   I went to the market this evening to pay my rent and the broker made mention that the fire headed fishmonger was seen in Ar. I do hope he does not come and evict me from the apartment already... I have done so much to make it like home. I just painted the oposite wall from the yellow one a almost lavender blue to give the room more of a sunlight and sky kind of look. The blue and yello wlook good together. WHite is sooo sterile... like a hospital.. in a rual jungle village in Guatamala I once nursed at when I was about to join the nunnery... Anyway... very pretty. I suppose once the buds that will soon become flowers bloom they will look nice against the wall on the small table I purchased in a vase. The place is so girly.. even with all these slave rings all over the place. I had a dream the third day I was here that I was chained there whilst sleeping... I woke up in a sweat. How scary that could be. Anyway.. more painting and shopping. I wonder what it would be like to be chained here in my little apartment... Uuggh it gives me the shivers just thinking about it. Perhaps if I see Naka and the fishmonger.. I will ask her when the fishmonger is not looking...

Girlie wiles

     The apartment is looking more and more like home, and I can tell you that living in such a place, and being who I am makes life interesting. Who would of thought, like I said before, that a former Earth Girl who was destined for the Nunnery, aquitized to Gor and enslaved, forced into freedom and left to her own devices would be living in the district of the central cylinder in Ar. I painted one wall in the main room a soft yellow hue to better reflect the sun when it comes through the window and liven up the place a bit. I was sure to pay the rent first to make sure it was out of the way. I do not need the fishmonger to come back when he chooses to do so and find the apartment redone, but no rent paid. The yellow wall was added, and so too was my flower box. The plants are germinating and small sprouts have come through the top soil. I wonder how much longer until I have pretty flowers to place in vases around the place. I wish they had star gazers on Gor. The smell alone from one flower is enough to fill a whole room with its lovely scent. I need now to go to the market... after all this work... Im hungry. I will write more as I renovate.

Flowers

     I am not  born Gorean, and in all these years of having been brought here... I only knew the name of one flower.. and that was the talander. So when I went to pick the seeds of flowers this afternoon.. I was clueless as to what ones I liked by name. Some flowers that are indiginous to Gor are the same as certain flowers on earth. So in my own rekoning.. I planted some 4 O'clocks, Blue Bonnets, Marigolds, and Poppys in my window box. I would never claim to be a carpenter by any means but growing up on that farm in Ireland I did learn a little bit about swining a hammer. So outside of my rented kitchen window now hangs a wooden box full of dirt and seeds awaiting the suns rays to help in the germination of some pretty little flowers. As a slave I knew only two things. You slice open a larma or wear a talander in your hair if you wanna get laid by your Master... I wonder what the names and purposes of these flowers are. I wish I had friends that I could ask these simple questions without seeming " Barbarian " or " Ignorant " Anyway... Im looking forward to them... I think the white paint can use a little color. I hope the fishmonger doesnt mind I placed the flower box outside his window.

Open windows.

     I am pretty excited. I have recently made an agreement with the fish monger to rent the apartments that him and Naka shared in the district of the Central Cylinder here in Ar. Can you believe me... living in the district of the Central Cylider? In Ar..? IN such a grand apartment.. with so many slave rings... hmm. Anyway... the price is good for this area. I pay two silver a hand and it is my responsibility to over see repairs if they are needed. So far so good. Who would of ever thought a freed barbarian slave girl would be living in this neck of the woods.. I will write more later... I have some flowers to pick and plant in the window box I built.

     Seams Naka and Phi went on their trip afterall. I wish my friend would of let me know they were leaving so I could of said goodbye. It seams the more I try and have friends and a life the more it slips away. I hardly leave my rooms at the Inn any longer.. seams everytime I do I get assulted verbally or otherwise by someone accusing me of being a slave. Well I am a slave... in a free woman's clothing somewhere in my heart... I just down know how to go about setting myself free of my forced "freedoms" I miss Tarm. I wish that he had not died. Things would be so much easier if he had not. I wonder if the poet could use someone to help him at the Boarding House. I am running out of coin quickly...

trippin

     The one person whom I might consider an friend of mine, who is now slave... is being carted off by her owner on a trip to the Sardars. Im bummin'. I even offered to come along and cook for the fishmonger so I can travel as far as Venna and let them be on their way.. but as always the fishmonger is an ass and told me to get naked and kneel.. or to be quiet.. or some such nonsence. I would like to follow along for the protection it would afford me to Venna.. but I do not think the old fire headed fishmonger will allow it... without a fair trade of robes and veils for the collar of Ar and her kennels.. and some other such nonsence.

   The poet caught me by suprise last evening when we were all at the falls park. He asked me if the fishmonger had made up his mind yet. When I asked him about what.. he said that was all he needed to know. I admit my curriosity is peeked..but I am not one to go asking for answers when it could get me stripped and beaten for no reason. We shall see if it comes up again... then I will ask the poet what the hell he means.  Anyway... the slave is here to clean my room and I need to get out into the city and make some cash. I will write more soon...