Dnd Character Journal Novels & Stories

I muttered to myself, ignoring the small voice in my head that mocked the action. Pondering everything I knew about Dark, I suddenly got an idea which made me scramble up from the bed. The red notebook with kisses all over the cover made me smile for a second, like all preteen girls, I was obsessed with the idea of keeping a journal, but honestly- I wasn’t disciplined enough. Turning to a clean page, I scribbled all the facts I knew about Dark and his history as Belen and the snippets of information Jasper told me about his upbringing and how he turned into the monster he is today.

Thousands of wolves from dozens of packs, all coming together to face an enemy none of them fully understood. And we were still outnumbered. On the second night… the last night before battle… Darius and I retreated to our chambers. The war planning could continue without us for a few hours. We needed this time. Needed to be just Darius and Kiera, not Alpha and Guardian. “I’ve been writing things down,” Darius said, showing me a leather journal filled with his careful handwriting. “Memories… our history and everything important.” I had my own journal, pages filled with moments I never wanted to forget. Our first meeting, mating ceremony, Eli, Margaret’s first smile, every triumph and tragedy

’s gave me, I feel like a little bit of wholesomeness would do me good. Before leaving the changing room, I take a quick look at my new identification documents. According to these various pieces of paper, my new name will be Jennifer Donner, twenty-eight years old. My new birthday is May tenth, and my parents are named Benjamin and Amanda. No siblings, which is standard protocol, as the less fake people THEM has to create, the better—for obvious reasons. The rest of my back story—relationship history, general life story, etcetera—is up to me to create. I’ll come up with most of it tonight, back at home, as I try on my new wardrobe and see what personality my new look and clothes come up wit

*Mago’s POV* As I held Ailene’s journal in my hands, an uneasy weight settled over me. My heart pounded as I prepared to open to the next entry, Journal Entry 15. There was something about this entry—her handwriting looked more hurried, as if she’d written it in the midst of overwhelming emotions. I was afraid of what I might find, but I couldn’t stop myself. I needed to understand her, to piece together the parts of her story I’d missed, or worse, had ignored.

He found himself sneaking into my room for seconds late at night and out of desperation for a quick fuck fix and not wanting to let him know that I was done with him, and having to put up with drama I'd given in; bleh. Whatever, it's time to get back to the real world, time to finish what that asshole screwed up. Time to plan my grand return. I could already feel the excitement growing. Taking my diary out of hiding, I read over some of what I'd written since I'd been here and added to the notes I'd started working on the night before. I can't slip up now or shit would hit the fan and I am far from ready for that so I still need to stay in character. These notes help me remember shit.

Almost no one came here anymore. Dust coated the shelves, and cobwebs stretched across forgotten corners. I lit a small lantern and began searching. Ancient journals. Old hunting records. Bestiaries. Legends passed down by hunters centuries ago. One after another, I pulled books from the shelves. My hands moved faster as my heart beat harder. "I know I've seen it..." The word lingered stubbornly in my mind. Mate. I just had to find where I'd read it. • Third Person's P.O.V •

I murmured, my voice sounding impossibly loud. My eyelids were heavy, but I was drawn to the chair in the corner. I could almost picture her curled up in it, gazing out the window. The view was magnificent, a sprawling panorama of Aelindoria's vibrant life. My gaze eventually drifted down to the windowsill. Resting there, beside a tarnished silver pen, was a leather-bound journal. My heart gave a sharp kick. Curiosity warred with a sense of reverence as I picked it up. Elegant, flowing script graced the first page: Property of Syanna Lorendel.

I ask. "Oof, right into the heavy hitter questions." He glances over at me. "Sorry, I've never been great at small talk." "No," He pauses. "I like that. Let me think a moment." He looks straight ahead, and I can tell he's really thinking. Something about the way he takes his time is really attractive. "Don't tell anyone, but I keep a sort of journal." He says, almost laughing at himself. "I know it seems weird, and it's not like some dramatic thing, but I like to keep a log of important events in my life."

JOSH POV “This one,” Giselle holds up a thick, dark brown leather covered book, “is her current journal. We all keep one; it’s necessary to have journals for reference when you live an eternal life. I’ve actually kept many over the years, as has Morgana and all the other members of my circle. These others are her older journals.” She gestures to a stack of similar books.

Leather-bound, worn, stained in places that I didn’t want to identify. Dominic’s secret. I set the lantern on a table and opened the first journal I found. The pages were filled with symbols—circles, runes, crude drawings of wolves chained in fire. Blood-magic, the kind even rogues dared not touch. I flipped faster, my heart racing. Incantations, sacrifices, rituals. My father’s hand inked every line with careful precision. And then I saw her name. Lyra.