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.

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 still felt the vibrations of every market crash and every shadow-contract signed in a boardroom ten thousand miles away. I sat on the edge of our bed, the cool linen sheets a contrast to the lingering heat of the day. Dante was in the bathroom, the sound of running water a comforting, domestic backdrop. I looked down at my hands. They were steady, but the skin was thinner, the veins more prominent a map of a life spent holding onto power with a white-knuckled grip. On the nightstand sat a small, leather-bound journal. It wasn't the Moretti-Vane ledger. That belonged to Leo now. This was my personal audit. A record of the things that didn't have a dollar value.

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.

— He spent a few years living the life of a wealthy wanderer. The contention, combating an inconceivable punch, the conspicuousness, the pain, and the result Now Paris is back for exceptional treatment. Why do I want to record this? for the right substitution by resulting ages? — Why? I have a planning sense, so how should a journal begin with major areas of strength for me, regardless of whether just for my eyes? I know not and care not. Three enrapturing animals are coming to have tea with me today. Since Maurice educated them regarding my boorishness and forlornness, they consume sweet chocolate cake and tea. They want to show that they care about me.

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.

After all, I always had a solution on my problems. 'I din't think U'll be able to think clearly this way' Again, I sighed and put down the pen that I am currently holding. I have been taking notes of the key parts and characteristics of the dragon that a knight must watch out so even my finger us starting to get numb due to too much exhaustion and repeatedly using it to write more. Since letters here are quiet complicated, it is harder to write it. Maybe that's the reason why my finger is now starting to get numb. On my past life, I usually write more than this everyday to pass very exams and to get good grades to maintain my scholarship.