August 25, 2012
The streets of this city are strange to me. Not simply because I have never seen them before, but because they are nothing like what I have seen before. This city has been lived in for 2000 years and you can feel it. Even the relatively new façade of the stone houses speaks with the voice of the aged.
It is strange to walk in such a place. People the same, but different. Places the same, but different, food even. The same, but different. It is the way I find myself feeling. The same, but different. There is something strange. Something strange within myself that I cannot seem to put down as fatigue or wonder or fresh experience. No. I suspect there is a touch of homesickness. But not for a place. For Professor Garrel, my family, Ellen even.
Still, such things do not come in the way of adventure, and this I must tell. I was exploring the town with my fellow adventurers (looking for food actually) when we came to a beautifully decorated building. It was made of old stone, the statues of a style not seen in prevalence for two hundred years at least. It was a thing of beauty. We asked some of the locals about it. Apparently this is the home of Lord LeNoir. From the tone and looks of the people we spoke with, he is not a man to be trifled with. And neither a man that they much like. Of course, we asked them about the man. Apparently he is a tyrant.
For now, I do not believe there is anything for us to do. However, there is a feeling within me that says he will have much more to do with our experiences here.