Last night the moon rose between two full pine trees. She was only at half face, but brighter than normal, and slightly blue in color—a cold light. Nibbs and I watched her all night. She set behind a copse of dogwood sprinkled with white flowers. I was sad to see her go.
This half-faced moon marks three months in Ursundova. I’ve been busy, with lots of things, and people…lots of strange people. I’ve taken over as Lord Marshall from a strange tall human (who thinks he’s a halfling) named Lem Berrybrook. I’ve also taken responsibility for his Way Watchers—women and men of the wilderness who Lem recruited to watch Ursundova’s borders. They seem like good enough people, but they need to think. It seems hard for them. I guess they need me to think for them. I think that’s my job now—thinking for people.
It’s pretty here, especially now that we’re moving into summer. There’s lots of flowers, young saplings, and plenty of furry things tromping through the underbrush. I’m trying to decide if I like it here better than I did in Brevoy. There’s less to do here, but more importance to what happens. Now that I’m the Marshall people bow to me on the streets. I bow back sometimes just to confuse them.
I met some kobolds. They were rude, but a lot of people are. I went to meet them with a priest of Saranrae named Gideon. Gideon is that naturally good sort of person who loves to talk to people. I like being around him, even if he talks too much. I don’t hold it against him, and I don’t care that he likes the sun more than the moon. I’d probably like the sun better too if I couldn’t see in the dark.
Speaking of talkers, there’s a dwarf here named Ulgar who we made General of the four pikeman Ursundova calls its army. He’s actually the first dwarf I’ve ever tried to talk to, and to be honest it isn’t easy. I think the reason we have ale is to distract dwarves when they start talking about things you’re not interested in. It works for Ulgar, it probably works for the others.
There’s also a man with pointed teeth who fancies himself a sorcerer…or was it a wizard…I’m never sure what the difference is. Anyways, he seems competent enough at making silverware dance or making cups float across the room, but I haven’t seen him do anything involving real power. That’s fine of course, I don’t need to have my hair singed to believe he can throw a fireball. In fact, I’d rather he keep that bottled up till Ursundova needs it.
There’s some nervousness here about that. There were some bad times in Ursundova before I arrived—a lot of people died and their deaths left people feeling pretty uncertain. Since then there’s been a change of leadership, new people moving in, and a new feeling of optimism. People are looking up—literally, I think their eyes are rising to the horizon. But there’s also some uneasiness behind it. I think some of them are waiting for a new disaster to strike. It’s a very human way of looking at things. I’m not sure I understand it. But that’s okay, I don’t think I need to. If these Ursundovans have one thing going for them, it’s that they understand our differences. I don’t begrudge them for not understanding me, and they don’t berate me for not understanding them.
I’m waiting for the next full moon to ask if I’m on the right track. I think I’ll watch where she sets and follow her to her rest. I feels like there’s something missing that I need to discover. I’m not sure what it is right now, but I’m sure it will make sense when I find it.