Date: Scorchedsky - Soulday the 26th, 3725

So its all caught up to me finally.

This chit is like bad history repeating itself - its like I'm a kid, back in Felwithe, telling them over and over that my father molested me, but no one listens because they saw him as being to "respectable".

Respectable. Yeah, whatever.

Yeah, I killed a man. Yup, that fop is dead as a door nail. He deserved it.

But apparently its alright for a rich and randy man to grab a woman, drag her back into an ally and force himself on her; at least that's how I feel when they told me it was murder - I didn't even get a chance to explain myself to that bitch Antonia, which I had always been told was my right as a citizen. They told me that "trash like me" doesn't get to speak to the Queen, because she won't talk to dirty murdering whores like me.

All because he's some high class merchant's son. Woo-hoo, he's just so special and more trustworthy than some Koada who dresses like an Ayr.

One of 'em had brains though. He believed me, as it wasn't the first time he'd heard of that brat dragging a woman off and screwing her brains out. He told me that his father was paying off the guard to keep it quiet, and that most of the girls who came forward would suddenly vanishi, their families claiming to have sent them off to some exotic location for more training.

He was sick of the lies, the deception, and so he helped me escape - told me some rat named Yuri could give me the name to someone in Freeport that could get me citizenship there.

I didn't quite make it that far, not yet.

I ended up at this gigantic inn out in the middle of no where, close to half way between Qeynos and Antonica. This place is absolutely huge, and has everything a person could ever desire, or at least it seems that way to some street rat from Castleview.

Maybe luck, maybe fate, but I met the owner - a woman named Duvessa El'lar. There was just something about her that drew me to her, maybe its because she looks so young but is so old, like I am...well, I'm younger than she is, but I'm older than most folk I meet...or maybe it was just that power she seems to radiate. I was told later on she has been a wizardess for almost her entire life, and that she possessed great skills most wizards could only dream of.

Whatever it is, I took to her well and to my surprise, she took well to me. We worked out a business arrangement where I could tattoo and pierce here, even down in the common areas, so long as there weren't squimish people about and the piece wasn't going anywhere personal.

That first night I was here, we ended up going to the baths - which I've not seen such baths since I got thrown outta Felwithe - and getting to know one another better, talked about how we took so well to each other. It was late when we finally left the baths, so I ended up just staying in her room - which I won't complain about too much.

Since then, I've already done one tattoo session with this girlie named Jellica; she really gets into being tattooed, has a lot of work she wants done, so she's staying here with me till its finished. Its taking a lot of time away from being able to promote myself downstairs, but the compensation is worth it.

Unfortunately, day three has turned out to be horrible, as I recieved word there was public notice about my conviction, which meant that anyone from Qeynos would have a preset idea about who and what I was.

Screw 'em.

An even greater headache has come from all the damn paperwork and bull's chit from Freeport - as a man named Dysin pointed out, I gotta work through Matthais Seigemaker, who tries to find any innocence left in a person's soul and snuff it out.

He wanted to stoke my rage and anger at Qeynos by spilling the blood of orcs. He seems to think that in slaughter I'll find some sort of pleasure that is damning to my soul. In all honesty, I could care less about an orc dying by my fists because they're just animals to me - they're the same, slow, vile beasts that haunted Crushbone which makes them inconsequential in my world.

Fighting is an art to me though, and I found myself immersed in my work, finishing off hundreds of orcs before my body demanded rest. I'm down to needing to find some traitor by the last name of Mochdre - seems to be a family of traitors from how Matthais talked - and some orc that'll answer to Geifr. He assured me there were few of Geifr's clan left, and that only a couple tended to wander out in the Commonlands.

Now I'm beat, dirty and still annoyed. I'm hitting the baths then sleeping - I'm hoping I don't wake Jellica when I get back, girlie's already passed out.