Entry 1 - 34th Ostara

I had always intended to keep a journal, but not this early in life. All of my plans, both realistic and far-fetched, have ended with my living in comfort, enjoying the fruits of my labours as I laid out the story of my rise to whatever prominence I had achieved. However, the imminent journey to Greenwood has somewhat forced my hand. This journal’s purpose, too, has changed. Once I would have imagined using such an account to explain my part in The Game, to educate new players in the ways of a successful veteran. However, the work I am currently penning is a far more private thing - a record of my mind, in its meandering entirety, in the hopes that it will serve as a reminder as to what I had been before entering that abominable place. Maybe in laying down my thoughts, ordering them in immutable ink, I will be able to hold on to the essence of who I am in the face of whatever trials my sanity might face.
 
My party is currently travelling in another creation of Ulric, that greatest of contradictions, so this journal will not be an account of any day-to-day happenings (assuming no interesting diversions, of course). However, this will give me good opportunity to take stock; I will of course cover those companions in whose presence I have spent my third Spring; they have become an integral part of my life, more so, perhaps than anything that came before. I will also lay out any other topics that cross my mind as we travel, though in the slim chance that this is ever read by another, perhaps it might be appropriate to start with an introduction.
 
Haakon: that name is the earliest memory I have of myself as a Self. It is curious that the first thing a new consciousness does is name itself, though perhaps not entirely unexpected: in a world already demarcated by people, places, things and concepts, the overwhelming need is to carve out a place of your own, to say “This perspective I now know as Mine is a true thing, separate from all others”. How else could such an entity stake a claim to itself - what other way would it know than to assign a label, to further demarcate? The word itself has no subtlety of meaning: the Gnomish for “Favoured Son”. The relationship I had with Ulric must have been how I defined myself in those early days. I sometimes think about a new name, one that captures who I am, rather than who I was, but that is probably unwise: it is the subject that defines the name, not the other way round. Whatever it may have originally meant, Haakon now simply means me: whoever I am now; whatever I value; whatever skills or desires I have, is what defines the name Haakon. To place an undue importance on names, I think, betrays a lack of self-confidence: the idea that your label needs to reflect who you are suggests that who you are is not enough, and I have little patience for self-doubt.
 
As I write this, my companions are eating, something which I have no need, and thus no desire, to do. I sometimes wonder what effect my unusual nature has on me: I do not eat, drink, breathe or sleep; activities which in all occupy the majority of every other creature’s existence, and I am excluded from that baseline of shared experience. I have no conclusions to draw from this: it undoubtedly forms part of who I am, but I cannot say more without speculating wildly on the contents of other heads.
 
I did promise a meandering account, and so this has proven to be. It is peculiar; I feel a sense of loss when I see my thoughts written exactly as they appear in my head, it is as if I am somehow relinquishing ownership of them. Hopefully this feeling will pass with time. As I reach the end of today’s page, I can’t help but feel disappointed at how little ground I have covered. Perhaps the idea of producing a complete picture of myself on this relatively brief journey was always doomed to failure, but starting tomorrow, I will try to gather my thoughts throughout the day before committing them to paper - hopefully that way I can produce something with a little more structure. I have a lot to say, so I must be firm in deciding what of it is worth the paper. Either that, or I must learn to say more in fewer words - curse my lack of foresight in waiting until this moment to first practise writing.