Aly was alone for a bit and sat in her chambers at Southleigh. Moving to her desk, she sat and dipped quill to ink.
"It has been some time since I've sat an wrote my thoughts. I fear wha't I write here shall be hard to swallow. I need to see in 't here, an mayhap my thoughts c'n clear, for surely I am bent for Tarterus if I continue on this path 'f self denial...destruction?"
The elf sat back a moment and looked at the vellum then leaned and continued to scribe.
"As I sit here writing, th' world seems to hav' gone addle-pated around me. I cannot make sense 'f much, if any 'f 't now. My guts seem to nev'r stop tightenin' on me, an' each an' every day seems to be a new chore to live."
A dip into the quill once more, and a drip on the parchment that she smeared while trying to clean it with the pad of her thumb.
(I thought this might be fun if I did a Captain's log for Aly. One never knows what is in her mind on a daily/weekly basis.) ************************************************************************
March 5 in th' Year 'f oor Queen 1467
I sit here 't m' desk, wonderin' th' whys 'f things tha't occur in m' life 'f late an' hav' foond no desiroos answers forthcomin'.