Dirt note 43.25.a6.344
“ A way not to go crazy. Odd writing thoughts down. Something to do to break the monotony of nothing. Nothing to see. Nothing to learn. Nothing to do. I must keep my mind alert. I am able to remember most things anyways... I guess incase I am killed. Then someone would pick up after me, find this and my work would go on, although I'm sure my spirit will find another. Well here goes nothing...”
Nimrad sighed deeply, furloughed his brow, then picked up a quill he had made.
Another long peaceful day passed. There were no attacks, nothing to fear and nothing to run away from. The oversized red sun rose up and warmed the cell. The sound of children playing, fighting, and or working hard to help their parents filled the air. Merchants came and went from the town bringing all sorts of goods from their adventures. Some even gave me things for my work. No guard has caught on. They see what they want, a lonely old man quietly contemplating. I wonder why they have not questioned where all my potions have come from. The cold night was setting in quickly; which, without blankets or a fire Chilled one to the bone. If not careful ones toes would freeze and fall off. Not a pleasant thought. Outside my stone walls the city was still throbbing life. There were festivals, bards sang and told stories of the great mages, and the royal guard fighting swarms of endless monsters. Later there would be talent shows where archers would shoot through their own arrow 2, 3, 4 times, only once a masked man pulled off six. The town guards would spar to keep themselves fit, and there would be some bets in the background as to who would win. Meals are in constant supply, three meals a day, and if you were lucky you would get dessert. Although the chicken soup really tastes like mongbat...
Living in this new location isn't so bad. The guard do not mistreat me and the people mostly ignore me. That leaves me much time to sit around and to think. I think I'm starting to think about thinking a bit much... I think I should contemplate the realization that I pontificate in pedantic thoughts…
There is no worry about a swarm of all those crazy people out there who chase you, call you "the yellow named guy" or think I'm crazy no one called me names. I am not sure if there is even a way to see someone's name before it is given. Perhaps there are some gypsies or seers that might have that ability. I say there is no line between genuine genius and utter insanity; they probably just can't understand my level of thinking. They all want the same thing... to "just talk", although it ends up with them always doing the same thing. Asking for "the thing" or when the big event will occur. How do they even know that the thing exist? It has been well guarded by ancient mages and seers until this day. It was a theoretical project that has been in many ancient books of magic and lore, although the concoction has never been fabricated. It was my project until I was put in here. I was almost done too, although I will have to restart since some of the items have been sitting for an exceeding amount of time. What a shame that they did not know what they were doing.
The man visited me again. I'm not sure what he looks like. All I see is his shadow which stretches all the way to the back of my cell. I often ponder at the physics of that considering there is no light past that point? I think he is a magician, he seems very knowledgeable. He tells me of events that are happening outside and of things that I need to get done. Later in the weeks I am always given the ingredient for those things. I suppose he is the one sending them. He doesn't ask me about "it" so he has one up in my regards,’though, you can never trust your shadow, let alone someone else's. I am wise to be leaving one eye open at night.
I do need to leave this place and soon. I never got around to having my burial for the little one. Oh how I still grieve for her. A burial would help close that tragic chapter of my life. Everyone blames me for it. What do they know... let me ask. There was no answer. The guard is looking at me strangely now. I do not want to peak his suspicions. I have started plotting on getting a way out. They should never give people spoons, when they know how to dig. I am planning on making a tunnel back to my lab. They will not even notice me missing. I want to complete my project on time. I WILL COMPLETE IT ON TIME.
“ A way not to go crazy. Odd writing thoughts down. Something to do to break the monotony of nothing. Nothing to see. Nothing to learn. Nothing to do. I must keep my mind alert. I am able to remember most things anyways... I guess incase I am killed. Then someone would pick up after me, find this and my work would go on, although I'm sure my spirit will find another. Well here goes nothing...”
Nimrad sighed deeply, furloughed his brow, then picked up a quill he had made.
Another long peaceful day passed. There were no attacks, nothing to fear and nothing to run away from. The oversized red sun rose up and warmed the cell. The sound of children playing, fighting, and or working hard to help their parents filled the air. Merchants came and went from the town bringing all sorts of goods from their adventures. Some even gave me things for my work. No guard has caught on. They see what they want, a lonely old man quietly contemplating. I wonder why they have not questioned where all my potions have come from. The cold night was setting in quickly; which, without blankets or a fire Chilled one to the bone. If not careful ones toes would freeze and fall off. Not a pleasant thought. Outside my stone walls the city was still throbbing life. There were festivals, bards sang and told stories of the great mages, and the royal guard fighting swarms of endless monsters. Later there would be talent shows where archers would shoot through their own arrow 2, 3, 4 times, only once a masked man pulled off six. The town guards would spar to keep themselves fit, and there would be some bets in the background as to who would win. Meals are in constant supply, three meals a day, and if you were lucky you would get dessert. Although the chicken soup really tastes like mongbat...
Living in this new location isn't so bad. The guard do not mistreat me and the people mostly ignore me. That leaves me much time to sit around and to think. I think I'm starting to think about thinking a bit much... I think I should contemplate the realization that I pontificate in pedantic thoughts…
There is no worry about a swarm of all those crazy people out there who chase you, call you "the yellow named guy" or think I'm crazy no one called me names. I am not sure if there is even a way to see someone's name before it is given. Perhaps there are some gypsies or seers that might have that ability. I say there is no line between genuine genius and utter insanity; they probably just can't understand my level of thinking. They all want the same thing... to "just talk", although it ends up with them always doing the same thing. Asking for "the thing" or when the big event will occur. How do they even know that the thing exist? It has been well guarded by ancient mages and seers until this day. It was a theoretical project that has been in many ancient books of magic and lore, although the concoction has never been fabricated. It was my project until I was put in here. I was almost done too, although I will have to restart since some of the items have been sitting for an exceeding amount of time. What a shame that they did not know what they were doing.
The man visited me again. I'm not sure what he looks like. All I see is his shadow which stretches all the way to the back of my cell. I often ponder at the physics of that considering there is no light past that point? I think he is a magician, he seems very knowledgeable. He tells me of events that are happening outside and of things that I need to get done. Later in the weeks I am always given the ingredient for those things. I suppose he is the one sending them. He doesn't ask me about "it" so he has one up in my regards,’though, you can never trust your shadow, let alone someone else's. I am wise to be leaving one eye open at night.
I do need to leave this place and soon. I never got around to having my burial for the little one. Oh how I still grieve for her. A burial would help close that tragic chapter of my life. Everyone blames me for it. What do they know... let me ask. There was no answer. The guard is looking at me strangely now. I do not want to peak his suspicions. I have started plotting on getting a way out. They should never give people spoons, when they know how to dig. I am planning on making a tunnel back to my lab. They will not even notice me missing. I want to complete my project on time. I WILL COMPLETE IT ON TIME.