I have left the collegium, and good riddance. I’m sure father won’t be happy, but I have no intention of staying in Fallcrest to embarrass him. Once he learns that I’ve left the city, I’m sure he’ll be positively elated. Mother on the other hand… well, I’ll just have to try not to think about how she’ll take it. They’ve dictated my entire life up to this point and will have no right to complain now that I’ve taken it for myself. With this entry, I begin a new life. Hopefully this one will be more carefree, or at the very least, more interesting.
I have signed on as a guard for a local merchant caravan. It doesn’t sound incredibly exciting, but it should get me away from the city and put some coin into my pocket. The caravan master seems a strange type, name of Yorin, fidgety for sure. I’ll be seeing him safely to some backwoods hamlet to the south (I can’t be bothered to remember it’s name) along with three others. With so many guards it seems the caravan will be quite large, I may have to have see if some of the inventory can end up being “misplaced”.
Yorin seemed quite pleased to learn that I have some skill with a bow; it appears in his mind he is already waylaid by bandits and horrors from the woods. I neglected to mention that I’ve only ever fired at the practice range. It shouldn’t matter, these trips are often uneventful, or so the stories at the tavern would attest, and I expect to be at our destination (remember to ask Yorin the name of the place again, this is beginning to bug me) within a week. Maybe from there I will be able to find something more befitting.
I’m afraid I have to end this entry early here. There is a woman singing with otherworldly grace near the back of the tavern. She’s already gathered quite a crowd and I think I’d very much like to be part of it. Remember to leave a letter for mother. No need to do the same for father. His agents will have already delivered news of my plans.