Written By Harper
May 24, 2017, 6:04 p.m.(7/10/1006 AR)
If anyone sees me today: you'll notice me wearin' pink. if you say somethin', like it makes me look like a tomato, I don't care - I'm kickin' you in the shin.
Written By Harper
May 23, 2017, 6:14 p.m.(7/8/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Armel
Grandmaster Arm(el) and his Hammer were a good conversation at the Traders fer a bit. No one can't be bad that gets ya whiskey an' don't mind that ya cuss.
Written By Harper
May 23, 2017, 1:44 a.m.(7/6/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Merek
Shiny. 'Nuff said.
Written By Harper
May 22, 2017, 10:37 p.m.(7/6/1006 AR)
Does someone need pepper for their journals tonight? Just let me know.
Written By Harper
May 22, 2017, 7:40 p.m.(7/6/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Armel
Well, yah, gimme both of 'em answers or I'll be disappointed.
Written By Harper
May 22, 2017, 4:51 p.m.(7/5/1006 AR)
I think I needa wild animal. Does, uh, anyone have a spare weasel layin' around?
Written By Harper
May 22, 2017, 1:41 p.m.(7/5/1006 AR)
There's a lot of poets on the Journals alla sudden. I know poetry. Ready?
There was once a beautiful lass,
Who had a magnificent ass.
'Twas not perky nor pink (as you'd probably think.)
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.
There was once a beautiful lass,
Who had a magnificent ass.
'Twas not perky nor pink (as you'd probably think.)
It was grey, had long ears, and ate grass.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 8:01 p.m.(7/4/1006 AR)
[ YOU SAW NOTHING, Scholar. ]
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 7:54 p.m.(7/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Percephon
Zounds! 'Tis the uncommon smartypants in the wild. A - designation under the better known fancypants. I must seem a swain (thanks, Scholar) or slugabed by comparison o'some shit. 'Less Prince Patron is going to sic you on me for uh, what's it called - elocution lessons.
Balls. If that's true I guess I'm the fuckin' mooncalf.
Balls. If that's true I guess I'm the fuckin' mooncalf.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 7:46 p.m.(7/4/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Kenna
Gonna add her to the list of nobles that ain't bad 'cause they're in the Guard. And - and - she's my height - so I bet a fight with her won't knock me on m'butt.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 3:08 p.m.(7/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Sparte
This is what'cu do when someone's bein' wrong and callin' you a liar.
1. Say "Bite."
2. Say "My Ass."
3. Say "You Smellfungus." OR "You Mumpsimus." Both are good words that Scholar told me.
In a sentence to the donkey's mother that's hurtin' your feelings: "Bite my ass you smellfungus." Then, you go on about your own day.
1. Say "Bite."
2. Say "My Ass."
3. Say "You Smellfungus." OR "You Mumpsimus." Both are good words that Scholar told me.
In a sentence to the donkey's mother that's hurtin' your feelings: "Bite my ass you smellfungus." Then, you go on about your own day.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 12:28 p.m.(7/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Talen
Dark Prince Patron. You and yer Black Widow Lady are the kinda relationship goals that all like-minded folks should aim for. It's kinda romantic. If serpents and scorpions and spiders could be considered an'such. I'd say so.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 12:26 p.m.(7/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Niamh
I'm was not gonna broadcast it, you know. But. But - sometimes - I can be wrong. Sometimes, I can admit it.
Written By Harper
May 21, 2017, 12:24 p.m.(7/3/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Juliet
Fi-danty rhymes w'panty. I don't care what the Scholar told me. That's all I'm sayin. Silkydrawers is stayin.
Written By Harper
May 20, 2017, 7:34 p.m.(7/2/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Magpie
Yer welcome, Mags.
Written By Harper
May 20, 2017, 7:33 p.m.(7/2/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Edward
BALLS.
Written By Harper
May 20, 2017, 11:15 a.m.(7/1/1006 AR)
News alert.
Fancies, set down yer silver. Commons, lift a cuppa. News of m'absence was greatly accurate. I was there. Jus' in the background like I always was. But, I did not lose my nose. I dunno who started th'rumor - mebbe I did, cause the idea of losin a nose seemed uproarious (check out that fuckin' word, Scholar) - during a siege. All cut of m'nose to spite my face. Spit in the face of Brand, 'cause we won, and now I'll spend the rest of my day drinkin' --
Rambling, sorry.
Fancies, set down yer silver. Commons, lift a cuppa. News of m'absence was greatly accurate. I was there. Jus' in the background like I always was. But, I did not lose my nose. I dunno who started th'rumor - mebbe I did, cause the idea of losin a nose seemed uproarious (check out that fuckin' word, Scholar) - during a siege. All cut of m'nose to spite my face. Spit in the face of Brand, 'cause we won, and now I'll spend the rest of my day drinkin' --
Rambling, sorry.
Written By Harper
April 23, 2017, 4:08 a.m.(4/28/1006 AR)
Warnin' to the one that gave me Grit: if I find ya, I'mma buy you a pint.
Pee Ess: Maybe two.
Pee Ess: Maybe two.
Written By Harper
April 22, 2017, 12:50 a.m.(4/25/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Ford
Bruises dun last. Losin' temporary. Unless you die, I guess. But, yeah, I did get to play with Grit - that's 'er name and she's beautiful, so thanks for that Popinjay. I liked dancin' with rubicund.
But - why - why everyone I fight gotta smack me on m'fuckin ass? Th'shit smarts. Makes sittin' hard. Least I can stand sentry duty til all the bruises turn yellow.
(Scholar, quit laughin'.)
But - why - why everyone I fight gotta smack me on m'fuckin ass? Th'shit smarts. Makes sittin' hard. Least I can stand sentry duty til all the bruises turn yellow.
(Scholar, quit laughin'.)
Written By Harper
April 21, 2017, 10:56 a.m.(4/23/1006 AR)
Been quiet these last coupla days, like, patrollin and drinkin. Trainin. Readin. I CAN RUN FASTER in my kit now, patron. You'd like that. Gettin sneakier like, too. But I'm MODEST 'bout my successes.
Got some real nice letters from Nim. Yeah, you needs an insult - you get 'em from her.
Missed that feast at the Hart th' other day, blast, I'd woulda love to stuff my face while honorin Gloria - but, some of us gotta work when th' other guys are playin. That's a fact. But that really ain't the point of this entry (ain't rambling, Scholar. Eat yer lemon cake and let me write.)
I woke up this mornin at th' Crown and there was a messenger at the door with a package from Lord Boss. Boss Whitehawk. Bosshawk. Yeah, Bosshawk. From a shy (I laughed) and anonymous benefactor.
It's. Rubicund. It's the tits.
Got some real nice letters from Nim. Yeah, you needs an insult - you get 'em from her.
Missed that feast at the Hart th' other day, blast, I'd woulda love to stuff my face while honorin Gloria - but, some of us gotta work when th' other guys are playin. That's a fact. But that really ain't the point of this entry (ain't rambling, Scholar. Eat yer lemon cake and let me write.)
I woke up this mornin at th' Crown and there was a messenger at the door with a package from Lord Boss. Boss Whitehawk. Bosshawk. Yeah, Bosshawk. From a shy (I laughed) and anonymous benefactor.
It's. Rubicund. It's the tits.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.