It’s an autumn day and almost feels like spring. The stink of the city is easier to bear when the sun is out. I still don’t feel at home, but at least I won’t have to be here much longer.
It seems like the call for adventurers draws a lot of people. I wouldn’t have thought so, but they’re all around me. My place in the stable was quiet the first night. Now it's more crowded than the barracks ever were. I guess city life isn't for me.
Luckily I finally have something to do. I'm starting this journal so I have something to pass the time while I’m in line later. I’ve never been a talented poet--most of the writing I’ve done was reports and commands in the army. But I’ll try to keep everything clear and maybe someday I can pass this on to my kids.
I’ll write more later.
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