Dragonwilds:Red-stained Diary: Difference between revisions
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==Location== | ==Location== | ||
{{Map|Red-stained Diary|width=250px|height=250px|zoom=3|center=-32350.346,235251.53}} | {{DW/Map|Red-stained Diary|width=250px|height=250px|zoom=3|center=-32350.346,235251.53}} | ||
==Journal== | ==Journal== | ||
{{Journal entry|There are strange visitors to these lands, people I never expected. Unsettling, pale elves who arrive in the night and stay for an evening asking us very unusual questions. I don’t even know why we let them in. It was as if they belonged here… as if they had a right to be here. | {{DW/Journal entry|There are strange visitors to these lands, people I never expected. Unsettling, pale elves who arrive in the night and stay for an evening asking us very unusual questions. I don’t even know why we let them in. It was as if they belonged here… as if they had a right to be here. | ||
We spoke of travel and family, of loss and of love. They asked me about the scar on my lip and the way I hold my sword at an angle. I told them about my first crush, even though I’d never shared his name with anyone. | We spoke of travel and family, of loss and of love. They asked me about the scar on my lip and the way I hold my sword at an angle. I told them about my first crush, even though I’d never shared his name with anyone. | ||
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But, like all those empty rooms, somehow, I forget.}} | But, like all those empty rooms, somehow, I forget.}} | ||
{{Lore Scraps}} | {{DW/Lore Scraps}} | ||
Latest revision as of 18:50, 9 April 2026
The Red-stained Diary is a lore scrap, found on a pile of boxes in Dragonwilds:Silverthorn Keep's courtyard before heading up the stairs.
Location
Script error: No such module "Map".
Journal
We spoke of travel and family, of loss and of love. They asked me about the scar on my lip and the way I hold my sword at an angle. I told them about my first crush, even though I’d never shared his name with anyone.
Then there was the talk of loss. Loss, like it was happening right then. A bottle spinning, fingers pointing, a choice we never chose to make. We lost someone that night, didn’t we? I don’t remember who, but there’s a hole there where a person should be. A shadow over my memories.
A locked room, where no one has the key.
I remember laughter, dancing and eyes like perfect rubies sparkling in the dazzling night. I remember his lips on mine, cold and tasting of metal, and then… nothing.
Their names. I don’t remember those elven names. You’d think you’d remember something like that. It’s not like we see many elves, not since that bard passed through a while ago. I feel like I should know them.
But, like all those empty rooms, somehow, I forget.