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Fallcrest, then. The most ancient memories I can access already circle around that town. The earliest thing I remember is waking to the morning sun face-up on the roof of a two-story house. Because I know not where I am from, I shall try not to feel puzzled by the fact of waking in some town right in the middle of the Nentir Vale, surrounded by the Moon Hills…

But that was not my knowledge at the time. I should focus on recording events as they happened in order to keep my mind from making distracting leaps and forgo important details. Again, I felt soft sunlight on my skin and woke up.

Pelor’s orb was not yet at its zenith, my eyes were still closed, and I realized I actually woke up to a continuous hammering sound. The second thing I experienced was the sound of flowing

I have never been fond of journals. My concerns are far removed form believing that someone else is interested in my deepest thoughts. If you save a farmer form a troll, the poor fellow will not care if you feel insecure or fight to earn a fair maiden’s favor. He will just be forever grateful and tell the tale. If you save enough farmers from enough trolls, you shall be regarded as “hero” and then nobody will care the least about your inner self: they will build a very specific and mythic You to worship and ask for assistance. And they will not have any reality that does not live up to the legend, thus vexing your actual existence to oblivion if it does not feed the legends.

In any scenario, nobody gives a fig for what we think and feel, either for being a simpleton or