Rob's Carrion Crown

To be read in the morning

Dearest self,
I do not know if I shall wake from this horrible nightmare, to be once again reunited with my lithe, beautiful body. I fear this is the punishment of the Heavens, for judging this ‘Frank’ a beast without due cause. Perhaps it is yet a crueler joke, and I have become an orc because the unwashed plebeian did not correctly recite the invocation.
Regardless, we will be returning to the grand city in a manner of days. Oh the glorious things I can do with this wealth, but time is limited and my companions have needs also. The elderly fellow seemed a little hesitant at first, upon receiving his reward. My spirits were lifted, momentarily, as I thought he would simply return the coin with a valiant, “just doing the right thing” or something more poetic – in hindsight, perhaps he was weighing the option of squeezing the man for more. He had a strange look as he approached me, mumbling something along the lines of, “You look like you enjoy shopping, get me something nice.” I am most certain he refers to the lovely work I have done with the wild woman’s shabby furs, so I humbly obliged and said nothing of the unspoken admiration and desire in his voice.
The days of recovery were largely uneventful, the different social classes largely sticking to themselves – the womenfolk in the kitchens, the yeomen boasting of their achievements, and the strange new companions becoming worthy members of my staff once they were properly bathed and deloused. It was towards the end of one of these evenings, as I was enjoying brandy with the Count, when the little one came to engage a bit of Arcanis Theologis with us. A brilliant mind, the old man has, when not creating horrors… Freya was asking about some permanent sort of magicks to gift the recipient an understanding of the spoken word, as if any passerby was speaking the common tongue. I assumed it was in reference to the brutish Orc tongue which some of us have been using recently, and was fearing confrontation among my menials; we were all surprised when she finally came out and requested that her little critter-friend be made a bauble so that he might understand our needs better. I was cut short (no pun intended) as I mused on the little Senji fetching my pipe and slippers whilst dressed as a butler, but I do believe the theories are solid and it can be accomplished.
I have much to do upon returning to the University, though I feel something resembling guilt for not rushing off to reprimand the Count’s captors. Oh, guilt! I need some plan to gain entry into the city, so I am not executed on sight for the crime of being a savage. In the morning, when the others wake, we will come up with a plan.
Kindest regards to myself,
Atherton Mordekainenson.
ps Shall I be forced to take up a new name for fear of bringing shame to my family?



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