#3 An entry in a battered leather journal...
8th Firstbreeze, 812
Go deliver these supplies to the Dwarven Excavation, they said. It’ll be an easy handful of gold, they said. I suppose this is a lesson to teach us not to trust strange old men with no shoes lurking at job boards. It has been an eventful few days, but now we have made the round trip and are back at the Beheaded Orc Inn at Phandalin and there is finally a moment to collect my thoughts.
My first thought is that I ought to write to Kithri before I leave here. Thrain and I got to talking during last night’s second watch, and while I knew that he was a wizard of course, it was a surprise to learn that he was still new to magic. In our few days travelling together, he seemed to be so knowledgeable and competent that I assumed he must have been practicing magic for years already. I suggested to him that if we do part ways and he is in need of further research, he might want to take a visit to Kith at Marcon’s Academy in Insmere.
Second, Lorelai almost died. She had been weird ever since we finished fighting the jellies in the altar room, even standing directly in Faen’s line of fire when he was trying to get a shot on the jelly attacking Azriel and refusing to move until he forced her to. We thought that was the last one, but when we turned back to take a rest, we found Jerryn in the doorway. Alas, we spied the jelly too late to save him. Ghoulish things. Lorelai was knocked unconscious by a jelly but the combined skills of Frederick and Thrain were able to stabilise her. We were able to move her to the entrance of the excavation in order to recover a little more.
That’s where Thrain and I got talking, and I confess that while I was supposed to be sleeping beforehand, I overheard some of Faen’s conversation with Frederick. I learned that he was discharged from the military due to a diagnosis of psychosis – he claims that it was made up so that he could be free from his duty but having overheard his night terrors I’m not entirely convinced.
He’s an interesting fellow though – over the course of two days I have watched him turn into a rat, a horse and an ape. Incredible feats, even if he did use the latter to win a bet made in good faith.
I will have to wrap up my thoughts here as there is a wailing bard in the corner and it has distracted all of us.
Lucky's Journal Ordered oldest to newest
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Letter to Kithri Greenbottle
1st Firstbreeze, 812
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An entry in a battered leather journal...
2nd Firstbreeze, 812
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#2 An entry in a battered leather journal...
4th Firstbreeze, 812
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A Letter to Lucky Greenbottle
18th Frostfall 812
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#3 An entry in a battered leather journal...
8th Firstbreeze, 812
1st Firstbreeze, 812
2nd Firstbreeze, 812
4th Firstbreeze, 812
18th Frostfall 812
8th Firstbreeze, 812
The major events and journals in Lucky's history, from the beginning to today.
#3 An entry in a battered leather journal...
8th Firstbreeze, 812 Go deliver these supplies to the Dwarven Excavation, they said. It’ll be an easy handful of gold, they said. I suppose this is a lesson to teach us not to trust strange old men with no shoes lurking at job boards. It has been an ...
04:53 pm - 15.04.2024The Journal Entry’s title
8th Firstbreeze, 812 Go deliver these supplies to the Dwarven Excavation, they said. It’ll be an easy handful of gold, they said. I suppose this is a lesson to teach us not to trust strange old men with no shoes lurking at job boards. It has been an ...
04:52 pm - 15.04.2024A Letter to Lucky Greenbottle
18th Frostfall 812 Lucky Greenbottle The Baudy Bard Inn Highland Way Highland Rim Dear Lucky, What in the hells are you playing at brother? In my last letter I ordered you to return home at once, and yet when I last conversed with Milo he tol...
04:52 pm - 15.04.2024The list of amazing people following the adventures of Lucky.
Social
Birthplace
Newbarrow
Contacts & Relations
Kithri Greenbottle (sister): she is three years younger than me and left Newbarrow to train with a wizard in the city of Insmere. She disapproves of the way I handled our father’s gambling and thinks I ought to have been gentler with him. She knows that I got into some sort of fight with the gamblers of Newbarrow but doesn’t know that I have started heisting things.
Ander Greenbottle (father): once an acclaimed goldsmith in his own right in Newbarrow, he changed significantly once my mother disappeared. He took up drinking and gambling, first spending the money he had accumulated and then spending money he didn’t have. He took my money, my brother’s money, my sister’s tuition money…and still didn’t see any reason to stop. I humoured his grief for a long time, until he broke into my workshop and stole mother’s silver ring to pay off his gambling debts. Disrespect to her, I won’t tolerate.
Lindal Greenbottle (brother): Lindal is a dumbass, a holier-than-thou member of the city guard protecting Newbarrow from all manner of fiends and foes which, let’s be real here, consists of overly drunk townsfolk and the occasional unruly salmon. He turns a blind eye to all the gambling and criminality in Newbarrow, and then has the audacity to be angry at me for stealing back something that belonged to me in the first place.
Milo Tealeaf (brother, changed surname): Milo is the smartest of the Greenbottle clan since he decided to move away and change his name. Admittedly, both of those were because he married the heir of the Chenyu District premier tea-grower and also wanted to grow tea, which is impossible in Newbarrow. He is the oldest of the siblings and has long since decided he has no time for our nonsense, or that of our father. He point-blank refuses to get involved in our arguments, and whenever I write to him complaining about things, he sends them back unopened with a note to tell him something more interesting.
Roscoe Tealeaf (Milo’s husband): Lucky knows next to nothing about Milo’s husband, aside from the fact that he is the heir to a tea-growing dynasty in Chenyu District.
Bree Greenbottle (mother, missing): The mother of the Greenbottle siblings was an accomplished jeweller and silversmith, well-respected in the town for her no-nonsense attitude and ability to resolve any conflicts. Lucky doesn’t remember much of her, as she was often away on commissions and disappeared when he was relatively young. In regard to the disappearance, Ander refuses to speak on it, but Lucky has heard from other townsfolk that Bree set out one morning to deliver a commission and simply never re-emerged from the woods. Oddly though, the silver-opal ring which was the commission had been left in the workshop, and the commissioner never came looking for it.