7th of Kythorn, in the season of thunder and bad decisions
by
Stormsworn of Kord Thorek Bronzeboot
Ale (for prayer, hydration, and charm checks)
Bread (weapon-grade preferred)
Cheese (aged, or unreasonably aggressive)
Jerky (something that’ll last longer than a moral debate)
Soap (Kord willing)
New stool (won’t last a day, but tradition matters)
Bandages (for civilians, not me)
Chalk (for tracking, marking, or drawing rude helmets on statues)
Things I Am Definitely Not Journaling:
Got kicked out of last town. Again. Third time this month. Chair snapped mid-blessing. They said it was a disturbance. I said it was a divine message. We agreed to disagree. Loudly.
Tavern keeper said “maybe sit on the floor next time.” Floor cracked. That’s not on me.
Sleeping outdoors again. Stars are nice. Wolves are louder. One growled during my evening prayer—took it as applause.
No signs from Kord lately, but I found a stump shaped like a fist and tripped over it. That counts. Probably.
Still haven’t found a cause worth smiting. Starting to think the next one will find me.
This is NOT a journal. This is a battle ledger with snacks.