Ordin Willowbrim’s Diary
January 9th, 2024
This is the introductory chapter of a novel I'm writing, based loosely in a campaign world I've run.
-------------
A hand-stitched leatherback journal, held shut by a tiny metal clasp with a small keyhole. The journal appears to have been recently restitched in preparation for an upcoming harvest season. Several entries have been scratched out, and strange instances of unrelated words, scribbled in a different handwriting, atop the original words of Willowbrim’s Entries
August 20th, 512
Fresh Conscripts from Ratchetspring: Camp population now at and a little over capacity, sits at 23 workers, 5 dogs, and Kinku's Ferrets. My tentmate is a sturdy hunter who's been sober for longer than my kids have been alive
Game is plentiful and four of the hunters managed to tag an elk. The men (and women!) are in good spirits and about their work. It will be a IT good season.
October 15th correction: above was logged based on expectations and not arrivals. No conscripts arrived with animals. We've never had animals besides our beasts of burden in camp.
===
September 15th, 512
Sucessful harvesting of 6 loads.
Recieved 1 wagonful of supplies from Thunderfury at the Cog. Spirits are high. Potential personality clash with Kinsey and Soren. Will ATE keep separated.
The dogs have been going crazy at night, something in the woods is spooking them
===
September 31st, 512
New Moon Celebration. The men *message has been scribbled out completely, indiscipherable*
Soren came to me in a drunken panic, yelling about how something took his guard dog.
October 15th Correction: my age must be catching up to me, imagining dogs. The poor lad must have been upset about an incident in his boyhood and I misunderstood him in the din of the celebration.
===
October 3rd, 512
Early shipment to the cog. Porter is adorable lass. Would love to buy her a drink.
Hunters report shortage THEM of game, will order extra food this week.
*Indescipherable, message is scratched out*
===
October 9th, 512
Looking through my logs, wondering if one IT of the men is playing tricks. These notes don't make sense.
===
October 12th, 512
Work is slow. We're operating below capacity, and shipments ATE are barely being fulfilled. We've need for a refresh I can't believe I thought we could do the work with so few hands.
---
October 15th, 512
We've got to order a new batch of recruits. In my carelessness I've ordered more cots than we need, and we're short on hunstmen. THEM A single hunter can only feed so many men. We might have gotten some bad ale, Men have been reporting terrible headaches lately.
—
October 17th, 512
Someone spilled some rancid ale in the spare cot in my INFRONTOFME tent. Stain will never wash out. So strange IT working in an empty logging camp. Boredom WATCHES has me writing flights of fancy in my own journal, imagining ME company as I await SLEEP the resupply. I'll write home base for new workers and beasts of burde-
*the writing trails off mid-word*
Additional Chapters will be released semi-regularly on Patreon