While rifling through old satchels last night, I came across an old scroll from a boy I once new. It had been nestled in the lining, and hadn't been read, though 3 years old. It brought a torrent of salty tears. A man once said that old letters are keys to doors we don't want to unlock, but cannot stop from opening.

Moving in is always such a chore... trying to make things comfortable.

Every once in a while I peek out the window at the strange and wonderful goings on in Elftown. Bards, Adventurers, workers and warriors, not to mention every race imaginable! I'm so excited with all the hustle and bustle, and completely afraid of getting lost.

I did get two lovely messages from neighbors... what a welcome!