The Time Has Come

Dear Journal,
 
I did keep a journal as required for class at the schools and academies but I send them all home when it was time to make this voyage. Writing down my secrets and thoughts for all to see is very unappealing to me. These last five months of sailing the stars with my fellow shipmates have been very entertaining. They, however, are not the reason I decided to start keeping a journal. What did that, was our arrival through a wormhole into Telesian space. Instead of meeting our expected meet and greets from fellow Avalonians ready to show us their grand worlds, we were met with war!
 
Until then, we had little to worry about other than the usual pirates, which are hardly a match for a naval ship. So I felt entirely confident that I would be returning home with the memories of my pranks mine to relish. But this is war now, not pirates, and the chance of the greatest pranks being forgotten for all time makes me shudder. I now have no choice. I must preserve what I can within this journal.
 
I have always carried a journal in my pouch as it's expected of all of us, though its pages were empty. So, while Commander Goldenbough reads a scroll longer than two elves are tall called the Articles of War, I shall faithfully record the pranks.
 
Perhaps the greatest prank in all of history is still running on Tanzia. They, ah, we elves I mean, had always believed we were the dawn of all elf kind until the Avalonian Navy arrived ten years ago, and insisted we return to the empire. Not only that but our deep-seated culture of patriarchal inheritances is considered barbaric to all the Avalonian elves who have since followed, including those who were pirates, er, I mean privateers! Some of us quickly rose above our barbaric ways and embrace the Avalonian way.
 
My three years at the Naval Academy were an utter joy to watch student after student suffer the shock of learning Avalonian culture. Then, I was sent out on the Stalwart with crewmates who all seem to be recovered. In proper fashion, I have pranked them all at least once since we left the Kalea system, I waited until we wormholed out to prevent being sent back to the academy in case I was found out.
 
Firin Fernpine, though, I am rather gentle with. She is from Nebugleam, the island I rule as Squire. It would be a dastardly unfair use of lordly privilege to anything more, not to mention I would like to have a friendly subject at my back should I ever have to face my sisters.
 
Anaise Evergarden is, well, just too easy. I mean, I could sneeze trying to set up a prank right in front of her and she would STILL fall for it. Yawn.
 
Rusa Meeser, a Fenok, is too much cat for me to resist pranking. I mean ... she really is a cat person, of COURSE she must be pranked!
 
Renvair Everdream is such a quiet sort. But, those moments when he prays ... perfect opportunities for pranking!
 
Not all pranks on board were done by me. One morning I awoke, tied into my hammock. Very nicely done, Captain Darkstar! Who else could it possibly have been?
 
Enough about before the wormhole of war. Commander Goldenbough has less than one elf length left to read of the articles of war. I need to be quick.
 
So ... we arrived through the wormhole and three little arrowhead-looking ships attacked us. As battles went it was over quick. Firin did Nebugleam proud, hitting one with the catapult and bursting it to splinters. Next, Renvair split a second ship in half. Commander Goldenbough roped a goblin drifting in our airts, taking our first prisoner. Then, it was my turn to fire a ballista. I proved I am a true Squire by destroying it with a fine shot right down the middle! Rusa, the kitty, roped another goblin, our second prisoner.
 
Well, I best put away this journal. I will report anything else interesting later.