((I'd originally intended to reveal these logs from a former expedition at the proper time in my abortive RP of the same name. Figured I'd expand it and post it up.
Note: The abbreviation P.E. stands for Post Enlightenment, taken as the years elapsed since the church of Falis took control of Kalshana.))
Excerpt from the journal of Maryanillae Sonelle (translated from the original Elven).
5 Tzelara, 1750 P.E.
My last night on shore before the expedition departs. I must say it's been a whirlwind of activity these past few days, with supplies to be stowed, gear to be checked, and the ship itself to be given a final once-over.
Finally, to cap it all, there's the traditional night on the town before we set sail. Humans certainly take their partying seriously. I know that I left home to get away from the stately flow of life, to actually live a little; still, I find it hard to keep up. The noise, for one thing, is simply overwhelming, and I'm not even about to try and keep up with the drinking.
I have, at least, learnt a few drinking songs, not that they're exactly complicated. The one in which people accuse each other of having eaten all the pies seems almost orcish. I can only imagine Mother's reaction if she caught me singing that.
Later in the evening, I was propositioned in the crudest possible way by one of the deckhands. I confess I was unsure how to respond to this. Nellie, bless her, had no such difficulties, and countered with a suggestion I dare not reprint. She later confided to me that Hester would hit on anything with a set of breasts. I am unsure whether to feel relieved or offended.
I took my leave soon afterwards, being partied-out. The others showed no signs of flagging, and I cannot imagine how they will haul themselves out of bed come morning. There must be some middle ground between the stifling social events of Kalshana and this sheer anarchy.
Living among humans, I can see, will be a constant learning experience.
Still, I am looking forward to the next few months. It seems difficult to believe that come the morning, we depart for the legendary Ice Continent of Hastel. This trip surely embodies the spirit of adventure so typical of the younger races, and I count myself lucky to be a part of it.
((Edit: Damnit. Wrong forum. Could I prevail upon somebody to move this?)) <p>Centuries of threats of "I'll turn you all to stone!" and "I'll knock you all down!" have caused Domans to develop an instinct to form small groups. For safety, I assure you. â€“ Keir</p>Edited by: [url=http://p068.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=kelne>Kelne</A] at: 10/5/06 9:15