Sheep Herders Diary

Dear Dairy  

I can’t believe I just spent 1 silver piece for this leather bound journal with quill and ink well. I cannot focus on the negatives here, sure it was my entire fun budget for the next 2 weeks but this is my diary as I have to let these thoughts out of my mind before their madness consumes my very Soul.  I am tormented by things that I cannot change, and ravaged with the guilt of failing to even try.

  I heard sheep for a living…I make no illusions or grand speech of my harrowing exploits.  I have never left my shores to boldly venture to other distant lands.  I haven’t single handedly slain a mighty foe while rescuing the damsel in distress.  

  No…I heard sheep 6 days a week for little pay and dangerous working conditions.  My employer is a difficult taskmaster as he demands fattened Sheep which means moving them constantly further and further away from our bowman and city guard.  Today for example I was so far outside of the City that I barely made it to the safety of the outer gate before sundown…

Sundown is the absolute worst part of my day…I move the heard as quickly as I can estimating the distance as too not arrive back at the gate too soon otherwise my employer gets angry and docks wages.  For the God’s sake's…I barely make enough to eat right now…I hunger even now as the rations we get are slim at best.  Despite the hunger pains in my empty belly I find myself not thinking of roasted Chicken or baked pastries…No instead I am thinking of Ormond.

  My best friend since childhood had always been Ormond.  We both knew we were going to work in the fields as our social class did not permit a formal education.  Our flocks were always together and we made the best of a tough day with jovial laughter, and song.  

  I can still remember the dark day my late friend was killed within feet of the main gate.  I had been sick that cold day with a chill and fever.  Ormond had chosen to take out both flocks so that I would not loose my job.  It was more than any man could easily handle on a slow day, but that was Ormond.  He gave to others without thought of repayment or obligation.

It was getting near dark when I wearily ventured out of my sick bed. Making my way to the main gate to see my friend was no easy task in my condition.  It did not matter to me as I was more worried that he should have been back an hour ago.  There by the Gate stood 4 armored men of the Town Militia.  They guarded the gate and protected those whom were running for their lives as dusk approaches.  I tried to get past them to find Ormond, but Prince Ulrich had decreed that no one leave at nightfall.  

I was about to voice a strong argument when I heard the bellow of the approaching herd's.  There in the distance ran Ormand.  It was quite clear that he was in great fear for his life.  At the top of his voice he was screaming..."Goblins are after me...Goblins are coming." Quickly the Militia ran from the gate towards him.  He was still too far out to get covering fire.  Their Long Bows were out of range still.  

I can honestly say that the moments that followed felt more like a slow motion nightmare than real life.  Seconds past and as Ormond drew closer the sounds of Goblins began to fill the air.  It was a raiding party, and they were mounted on Dire Wolves.  Howling filled the air more and more as they sped closer to Ormond.  Arrows flew from Long Bow and Goblin bow with lightning speed.  Militia missed but...To all of our horror the Goblins did not.  I was barely able to stand, as the fever gripped me, but to this very day I swear I could see that foul beast smile as he let loose his lethal volly.  3 arrows stuck my friend killing him instantly.

  Again...As if I were trapped in a living nightmare...My eyes watched in agony, and despair as he fell slowly to the cold ground.   I fell to the cold ground on my weakened knees and wept as I had never wept before or will again.  I did not feel the Goblins arrows wiz by as they narrowly missed my head.  My sense of fear never registered even as the Militia slammed the front gate closed and barred it shut.  Howling of wild beasts and the cursing word of frightened men filled the air as I lost consciousness.  

I must stop for now as I am tired and these thoughts are getting more difficult to handle with out a still Ale to dull the senses.  I must admit that I do feel a bit better after writing down these thought so far.  Perhaps there is hope yet to free my mind of these torturous memories.


Dear Diary...

I have managed to sneak out my Diary with out my employer being none the wiser, and I can now write more than just in the late evenings.  It is quite cool this morning as the Sun rises. Everyday we draw lots and the lucky ones remain closer to the City walls.  I won today and I am grateful that I am nearer to the City walls.  My herd will easily be able to make it back in time today.  I look over the fields as my Sheep graze, and in the distance I can see the entrance to the Neverwood.  Aptly named as you NEVER want to enter it.  Armed Calvary's can muster the journey, and survive sure, but for plain folk such as myself it is an assured death sentence.   

A cold breeze chills my veins as I see look to the heavens and see storm clouds approaching. It will be raining in a few hours  I am sure of it.  I can only hope that my writings will not get ruined by a torrential deluge.  My belly rumbles as I had little to eat for Breakfast.  It is going to be a long day to be sure.  

Dear Diary 

It is lunchtime and I was blessed enough to find some wild berries to eat.  They were quite bitter but filling.  I often wonder what it must feel like to have all you can eat all the time?  I envision meat roasting on a spit and vegetables cooking in big metal pots.  I am sure our Lord Prince Ulrich is dining upon nothing but the finest of meats this night.  

I can not bear any ill malice towards our ruling Prince.  He had never done me any direct harm, and under his rule we as a City have favored quite well.  Sickness is down, and thanks to abundant rains we have a really good crop this year.  I shudder to think of a Winter without enough grain to go around.  It happened when I was a little boy once...I clearly remember going to bed hungry many nights and of the horrific stories of parents devouring their children's flesh in order to survive another wretched night of existence.  

Dear Diary

The night winds are a bit crisp with Northern cool breezes, and I sit here a the Pub waiting for my Soup to arrive.  Money's tight as always so Meat is not an option this night.  I worry not though as the Pub owner,  Mr. Gunderson is a charitable soul to me as he was once a Sheep Herder as well in his youth.  I get a nice bowl of the daily Soup and a hunk of warm bread with Goat butter. All for 2 copper pieces. It might not seem like allot, but if you had nothing to begin with then this meal I am about to eat is a bountiful harvest indeed.  

Mr. Gunderson has a lovely daughter named Judith, A tall young lady, over 6 foot tall to be precise...I have known her all of my life as we often played as children.  When I was bullied Judith often bested the other Males in any form of wrestling, and bo staff fighting.  Her Father taught her well to defend herself...Now she runs the Pub with her father and serves food to the customers as well as bouncing out the occasional drunkard or two.  She always has a smile and a kind word.  Unbeknownst to her father she has more than once slipped me a piece of cured ham or stewed beef.  

Dear Diary

It is cold in my little attic room tonight.  I had hoped that the house hearth of the landlord would have provided more heat up here to me, but sadly not.  I sit here with my back against the wall looking out my window.  The glass is good quality and allows me to see off into the distance a good piece.  

  It is here that I can catch shadows of the wild beasts from the wood.  Goblins ride caring torch's trying to get close enough to start the town ablaze.  Few even get close as our nights watch are quite skilled with the Bow.  A single volley of arrows has been enough to slay a dozen invaders.  

  I have spoken to many a trader whom had to make it through the night...Out there...Alone with only a sharp sword, and blind luck keeping them alive.  I shudder inside just thinking of being so brave.  I know If I were to venture out there...Into those accursed woods...I will surely die.

  My eyes are as tired as my bones this night.  Cold as I am...I am too tired to honestly feel it.  I could lay here and feel nothing more than misery, and whom would blame me?  
This I can not allow...Ormond would not wish this for me.  He would not wish me to live in fear as I do now.  He would have wanted me to end this madness and travel to a distant land away from this place, and the beasts of the night. 

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