Tuesday, November 13, 2001

my name is Nathaniel, i am young not weak. I am cold and always hungry. Times are testing, I sometimes wish i could take a cart home. Perhaps a merchant would take pity on me and would take me back to Naadac, my birthtown. But what good would that do? Its been years, i think my home would have been blown down or else destroyed by now. I miss the school building, i miss my teachers, i miss my friends. The academy has its moments but each time catch a cart to Enivir i realize how much the academy cant compare.

I am training to become a knight. I have natural skill, so the training is not too challenging. Many people told me that i could have gone to train at a castle, if i trained harder that is. Enough has always been just that to me. As long as i wouldn't end up in a half a mile agricultural prison of my own i was... ok. I knew some militia would except me. Hell i could have left Enivir 3 years ago. While my days here are easy, they somehow always end up long. All my armor weighs me down, i wear far less then most, but far more then i think i need. My sword is large, huge you might say... did i mention magical? The only problem is that it takes so much for me to move it, that is not to say that i am a lumbering beast, on the contrary i am quite nimble.

My fighting style is strange. Quite foreign, altho it cant be explained by that alone as even in Naadac few would show dances of steel like i did. My father was skilled and thought me much. How many times asked have i been as to why i use such a laboring weapon. Its the only weapon i have i say. Besides once gotten into motion few demons can resist its weight. After each use rest and healing is usually in order as my shoulders sacrifice for my body. Consequently i can not battle often, but i usually win my wars in one battle. I have training tomorrow and need to rest, no wounds to nurse but tire can at times carry the same weight as ulcers in its ability to incapacitate.