Ah Lam's notes, vol. II

((Ah Lam's script has become more legible over time. It lacks her old rambling, hasty manner, though, having worn down into something ponderous and utilitarian.))

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I thought I would be dead by this time last year. A sword in the heart of the world--why wouldn't that be our doom, after the deluge of horrors I endured?

I suppose there is some enlightenment to be found in hitting rock bottom. I found mine in that scorched and broken desert, one of many trying in vain to stem the flow of Azeroth's lifeblood. War waged in lands beyond, but I could not bear to watch--it was easier to keep my head down and my attention on the wound in front of me, though there seemed no hope for a future.

Yet, somehow, we survived.

It still doesn't feel real, this peacetime. It seems more like a dream, hazy and insubstantial and merely waiting to wake up for the next disaster. The people I love are there, my body still goes through the old motions and words, but...it feels hollow. I've been changed, these last long months. I can't recall the last time I felt like myself.

I want to. I don't know if I can ever go back to being as cheerful or carefree as I was before, but I can be alright with being different if I can just learn how to be a person again. I don't want to be ruled by my fear and pain anymore. I want to forge real strength from this remaining thread of steel I've found inside myself. I want to embrace living again, not just drift with the current.

One more try, then. I think I have enough in me to try once more.

I think it's a bit past second bell as I write this. The others (except for Rossa) are still slumbering. My restless paws led me up the hill, to a nice rock overlooking the town and river. Storm clouds are darkening the stars over the ocean, but they won't be heading for us tonight.

This is...nice. I missed the smell of the sea.

We've had a decent start here. I briefly regretted leaving Rumble home when we had to haul that stolen cart up out of the tunnels, but I won't complain if sore muscles are the worst thing we have to deal with tonight. James can become a bear-ish creature of bone and wicker, and can unhinge their jaws more than what should be natural in that form. Rossamund has interesting ideas about livestock alliances. I have concerns about how easily Sibyl bursts into flame. Jo has lost her void walker minion since I've been gone.

Quillboar don't seem bothered about wasting food. Thankfully the cabbage that hit my shield is only bruised, but still good enough. I can't say as much about the one that broke apart against James' bear bottom.

Third bell just sounded somewhere. I really should try and sleep. I'll need it, if we're going to be chasing pigs tomorrow.

I have a few minutes to spare for writing. I feel like I’ve had weeks longer than this day has been.

Brought back the missing pigs, fought more quillboar, found slaughtered chickens and more stolen produce. Took an earth spike through my leg, but it was shallow and healed fast with minimal magic. Big Paw caught up with us, and the puns immediately started flying. Easy on sparks this time, but we’re still on a job after all—also I’m sure he’ll get a chance soon enough to show off that new trick with the flaming spirits. Ancestors, I missed that man. I’ll have to think of something nice we can do after this, now that I don’t feel like I’m drowning as much. Maybe we can share a few cooking shifts out here in the meantime—I’ve missed that, being an active participant in doing things together.

I wish I was as good at subtlety and spy-craft as I am at wordplay. Investigating the Barrel and Crate went fine, and so did our talk with the constable, but I worried the whole time that I was trying too hard to be casual and that it would be obvious I had another angle. Thank goodness the others were there to carry some of the slack. Also got a new bag out of it. About time, too. I don’t know how my old one hasn’t fallen apart by now. 

Something about the constable makes me itchy. Not sure if it’s just because I’m not entirely used to politicking, or maybe it has more to do with that order of his that I saw in the B&C ledger. I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and not assume he’s involved with these quillboar troubles, but…I don’t know. I’ve seen enough of the world by now that I wouldn’t be surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. Hopefully we’ll find out tonight.