Weathered Journal

[Cypher]

Twelfth day of Thaheims

Spent the morning wandering the newly cobbled streets. Recent shipments have brought much wealth to the Baron, Lochwar's blessings upon him. The lamplighters were out when I began my round past the baker. Witnessed the sunrise past the moored ships in the harbor.

Father has come down with an illness. Mother is caring for him. Petra and I entertained Mr. Du Bois at the amateur poetry club. Though open to all, it is by every means a ladies establishment, with a few exceptions every now and then; today was such an exception. Were it not for my sister's frequent visitations there, I would have had to host Mr. Du Bois in our home, with my ill Father upstairs. Mr. Du Bois will be opening a mapmaker and scribe's shop in a month, after all the legal hurdles have been overcome, and with the Baron's permission.

I am grateful for Petra's help socializing with Mr. Du Bois. I should be so lucky to be hired by a man such as he. Luckier still to have a sister like her. She really ought to be something more than a common woman. I wonder if she is happy. My heart aches, in spite of her sunny demeanor. Those twinkling eyes, fetching smile, crooked teeth, and dimples are my reason for pursuing this thankless work.

Today, Petra wore a plain brown, woolen dress with red seams. She had a white sash across her waist, and a beige bonnet. If I can earn enough to buy her the clothes she deserve and a house fit for her noble's gait, I will have lived a full life. Am I selfish? Am I using Petra as an excuse to justify my poor choice in education and profession? I hope she is happy.

Why have I not yet met my bride-to-be? Once Father recovers I should see to question him. Sister cannot always remain a substitute for me.

[Cypher]

Ninth day of Rhautheims

So many things have happened recently that I simply must forgo recounting my daily business routines, Diary. Strange days. I am both elated and saddened. Foremost, I have met with Irena, the young lady I am to wed. Furthermore, the recent string of coughing fits in the higher echelons of society have put great strain on the lower classes.

Mathias, the baker's son, passed away two nights ago, and rumors abound that the Baron will be next. Selfish as it may sound, I find this outbreak comes at a very inopportune moment, what with the planning of my wedding.

Recent events have seen fit to shape this city into something different. Violence erupted near the city gates, when a woman, ill with coughs, was barred entry. I do not know of the extent of the skirmish, but one peasant may have been slain. May Etoth's Order be restored soon.

I have spent hours upon hours with Irena, and they seem too short. She is quite pretty and well educated, if a bit independent. I had to battle for her affection, but she is sweet on me now. She shines when I praise her. I use all my second-hand knowledge from Petra's poetry club meetings. When she smiles, her face warms up like the summer sun, and twice as radiant. She is a shelter, a charm, from this malediction on the city. The epitome of a Varanite lady.

We are in love. Our wedding will be held at the Cathedral on the first of Iaover, during the equinox.