Finally made it to Rimbar. It’s been a hard month, lots of walking (though that wagon ride between Killhawk and Maywear was a blessing, dear sweet gods!) I never really liked walking… Mylar always told me I’d have to get used to it, if I wanted to become a knight, but let’s be honest, Mylar was never the most clever of folk, bless his poor dead soul. Can’t complain, though, he was as good or better than any mentor I was going to get. Still, it’s been hard without him… I’ve got to remember to leave him a sweet bun, the Turnyear is coming up, after all.
Anyway, I decided to check around the Rafter for work, but, as is usually my luck, no one’s looking to hire a, and I quote, “skinny twig of a half-baked Hollows whelp.” Really. You don’t say… People just don’t appreciate good sarcasm when they hear it. (Mylar always did say I had one hell of a mouth on me…) So, I guess it’s back to the drawing board. I still have my credentials, Mylar left everything with me before he passed, so I could probably convince some lowly knight or Guard to take me on. Though… considering the state the city’s in these days, being in the Guard’s probably more likely to get you killed than paid.
I remember Mylar telling me about how beautiful Rimbar was, the overflowing markets, the shops down in Wendar, the festival lights strung up in the Great Square for the first harvest… I guess a great deal of things can change in a few years. Well, I suppose the excessive amount of refugees streaming into the city doesn’t help either. I’ve been hearing rumors about an increase in looting and violence down in the Hollows and Ridgebase. I guess the slums there are getting overcrowded and there’s a food shortage… It’s kind of messed up that it’s come to this. I mean, we went off to fight this war, to protect everyone, and now… now we’re just killing each other over a moldy piece of bread. It’s just not right.
I… I’m kind of glad Mylar didn’t have to see it.