Hamish’s Diary

Dear diary,   I’ve never written a diary before. This is weird. I’m talking to myself, yet someone else at the same time.    My name’s Hamish. I own a tavern called the Lazy Dragon. I built it from the ground up and I’ve not been more proud of anything in my life. My friends, well, patrons, suggested I start a diary because I’m not very good at talking to people, and so I can practice talking to myself instead of talking to others and getting nervous. And so, here I am. Talking to myself.   Today has been a good day. I worked all morning at the market and sold some firefly jars, which gave me some social practise and some gold. At the moment I’m saving up my gold to buy myself an actual house. All I have is my tavern and the market, where I have a small, closed off room in each for sleeping. It’ll be nice to sleep in peace for once, I guess.   Maybe I’ll save enough, I probably won’t, though. Maybe my father will finally return to see his son grown up, but he probably won’t, though. There’s little probability that anything positive will happen any time soon, but there’s also a probability, although small, that something good will happen. I’m pinning all of my hope on that. That small slither of a chance.    Anyway, thanks for giving me something to talk to, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Diary.   Signed, Hamish.