Beer! Beer, beer, beer! I could never have imagined
something could make you feel so…tingly. I tingle from my lips to my toetips.
My head won’t balance on my neck. Forgive my handwriting, it is dancing across
the page, up and down, like the hills of my homeland. These words are spilling
from my fingers in big golden drops on this page. At the tavern, I had the
fortune to meet a brew master from Hiroja. I forget his name…something like
Hoarg, Foarg, Schmoarg-a-boarg-a-dilly-doo. How do I write laughter? Boarg and
I became fast friends over a pint of fangwail pale ale. I gave him a fake name
but I may have let it slip that I am a chemist. We had a delightful
conversation about specific gravity and how to combine different ingredients and where they are harvested. We compared compounding methods and ratios. Ratios. That word
looks funny, ratios. Is that how you spell it? My next pint was a bitterot brew
and I do believe I went blind after my first sip, but I kept up the
conversation, not letting on that my world had gone dark. However, when my
sight came back, my new friend was gone. How long had I been talking to myself?
Had anyone noticed? I’m glad I was in disguise. If any of my friends saw me, I
would be banished from the Catalyst Foundation. What am I saying? I am already
banned from the Catalyst Foundation and I have no friends. Well, except Jarax,
who should return at any moment. And my son, Dashyl, who is asleep on the soft
bed next to the writing table. Peaceful. Enjoy the peace, son. Once we reach
the Tanglefern Thicket, all luxury and comfort will vanish from our lives.
Perhaps I could take some beer with us. I do believe that is one of the best
ideas I have ever written down. Good night.
***
Readers, please forgive my entry from this night. I am not
proud of the frame of mind this entry reveals, but for the sake of true and
accurate reporting of this expedition, I will leave it intact for future
readers. – Kilkarak
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