Afoo, afoo ... running out of paperoo ...

I seem to be running out of that lovely big wad of paper I found. So, dear lord of Luck, you might not hear much text from me in a while, at least until I can convince some kind spirit to donate more paper to me. And red ink. I love red ink.
Ah well, what's a fool to do. The world is changing in various ways, and I might not have time to write anyway I reckon. When the powers of the world is in upheaval, then both fools and gods better cower around the nearest fireplace and wait the storm out.

Oh! I am at the very last line of the very last sheet of paper! I have to go now. Until later, Bye!


OOC: Dark Isles is currently closed, alas. Time will tell when it will be back and if this character will continue to be played on there. I'm certainly not done with her story, so the Jester will no doubt return either here or in some other form elsewhere.

Forests are dark and big and scary

Forests. Big and scary places with lots of shadows and green stuff. Not a flagstone, pickpocket or grumpy merchant in sight.

I did foolish things last night. Tagged along with a group of people heading out into the western forest. In a storm. To fish. Yeah. I know, lovely isn't it! There were two big sturdy fellows with us. Twig was there too, that tir gal sure has a lovely curious mind! I like that a lot, although I'm not quite sure it's really right when I feel the most sane in any company. See, I may be a city-girl and unused to the forest, but first that bug lug of a Skrell'eth simply lugs right up to us out of nowhere - and then a big wolf fells a boar just next to us! And I was the only one to get spooked by that!
... well that's not quite true. Twig got spooked too, and as she ran the wolf chased after her. Poor thing (Twig I mean, not the wolf), she was scared out of her wits, and so was I. Luckily the beast only sniffed her a bit and tugged at her twig. Then it pissed on the skrell'eth (yes, really, it was hilarious!) and walked off. A dignified wolf that.

... I think this here fool'll stay away from the forest for a while.

The best about Darkfall

Oh, how I love this darkest time of year. There are raging storms and cold that eat into your bones (especially if you lack the body fat, like I do). There are cold winds and now and then it all turns into half-frozen rain that spatters over your face and runs down your spine. These are all wonderous things, for without these things one would surely not appreciate the raging heat of a warm fireplace, or cozying up in a warm cloak under a roof. I try to spend as much time as I can outdoors, just so I may appreciate getting indoors all the more. Life is good.
One other great thing about Darkfall is the Festival of Ylessa taking place in the middle of it. A bright shiny time with gifts and coziness all over. The gift part is the best, and sweet Martha came about with the best one -- she had finished mending my clothes. What is a jester without her cap 'n bells? It was her festivity gift to me she said - what a sweet gal she is! Can't write any more, for I have to go dance about some more now. Hard to sit still when there are merry jingling bells once again on one's head.

Bell-less in a world of frowns

I'm missing my cap'n bells. Yes, dear Elbahn, you heard that right. Little me is currently completely hat-less and bell-less, ever since sweet Martha got hold of the lot for patching all the holes. Meanwhile I even wear a skirt, and a shirt Martha borrowed me. Noone recognizes me in this! You could say that I'm travelling icognito even. I'm an undercover Jester. Yessirree.

Phew! Milford is a small place, but silly enough for a fool like me anyway. Between the harvest festival, drunk farmers and the occational demon trodding into town, it's more fun than a barrel of monkeys. Almost, anyway. So I slept on a haystack in the day and made a fool of myself in the Milford taverns in the evening. And so time passed.

Now I'm back in Seahaven again. Lots of new and old faces, and way too many frowns. A fool always have her work cut out for her.

A Sheep in Wolf's clothing

We put up the first official showing of the Guild o'Gimmicks this morrow. Jelrin and I performed a little story I cooked up some hours before (yes, that's about as much fore-planning I can keep in my head, alright?). I call it - tada - A sheep in wolf's clothing.
It's about a wolf who kidnaps a Princess (that turns out to be a jester but the wolf is near-sighted so he never knows). The reason is not to eat her, but to convince her that he is a great dancer and also worthy of attending the ball. The jester/princess is a picky type though, demanding great sacrifices from the wolf in order to deem him worthy of the ball -- first he has to learn to stand on two legs, then to get rid of his tail, his fur and eventually everything that makes him wolf (we had a bucket of water so Jelrin could wash his sooted face off at the end). By that time I'd say the audience was mostly rooting for the poor dance-interested wolf rather than the picky princess - just as I had hoped! And in the end it turned out the princess/jester (that'd be me) really couldn't dance at all -- and it is the wolf that rejects her ("No ball for you!" was the running slogan throughout). So he goes to the ball whereas she is left in the woods, crawling into the empty wolf's pelt he left behind ... mmmmm, symbolism.

Jelrin made a great performance as the wolf and looked positively horrendous with that big old wolf's pelt and sooted skin.  I never thought he'd actually jump into the crowds to have them rip the tail off him!  He cut the tail beforehand, but good thing that Skrell'eth was there or he would still be there tugging ... Good times. I think the crowd was pleased, I love to see so many smiles around. The kids loved it, I could tell, and that's always the best measure.

Afterwards, a pompous fellow appeared and thanked us, the Guild o'Gimmics, for the show. Put flower circlets on our heads and everything. I was too baffled to even thank him properly. Oh and he paid us too.

Festival!

The Milford Harvest festival is upon us! Thanks to two bored city watchmen I was not partying yesterday though, but was chasing all over town trying to get my hands on a 'white permit' thingie they told me I needed to get out of the South gate. Which you don't. There is no such thing as a white permit. Watchman humour at its best. Never listen to giggling watchmen I tell you - especially not when you wear a large belled hat on your head.

Finally got hold of Jelrin anyway, and in normal fashion we utterly failed to plan anything even remotely coherent for a joint performance. So improvisation it is, which is what we're best at, anyway (Jelrin's pretty good at drinking too, I give him that). Oh - and today there is a 'bachelour's auction', which means that a bunch of (hopefully) good looking single men will stand on a stage while women throw money at them. I think it's a hilariously funny idea!

Sittable armour

Armour is a funny thing. Heavy, pointy, hard and impressive looking. It certainly doesn't look comfortable and must be terribly warm to lug around. I once tried to lift one of those plates you put over your chest, and let me tell ya - if I were to strap that on me, I would do a lot of things, but walking would not be among them.  

Sitting on it works fine though!

 ... Because luckily not everyone's as small and wussy as me. One of the blacksmith's prime clients must surely be the Lord Watch Captain Kelindel. Big rock of a man he is, every step rattling and chiming with the metal of armour and weapons. People say the Captain's a hard man, but he's always been very nice to lil' me and I like him lots. The other day he came by on his rounds and noticed I in vain tried to look above the heads of some people. So he offered me to sit on his shoulder - and his armour was really good to sit on  once you get on top of it! Gods, to have such strength - he seem to have no trouble carrying both all that armour and me at the same time.
We must have made quite a sight walking down the street - a fully armoured watchman captain with a small colourful blob of a jester on his shoulder. I'm sure the crime rate of Seahaven dropped immediately with such a duo patrolling its streets!

Festival!

Thankyou, lord of luck, for today you were really generous to this little wee fool! I was standing today at my usual spot in the crossroads trying my best not to mind my own business. I was busy meeting plenty of nice people, chatting about silly things and juggling all that I could get hold of in the faces of those daring to come within three feet of me. That is, the usual thing. A smile here, a smile there.  Good stuff.

Then, suddenly, there's this nobly-looking fellow that stops right in front of me. He looks down on me (which is not hard) along the length of his nose and looks really thoughtful. I of course smile up at him, wondering what he's thinking about. We stand like that for a while.
"Hope ya're having a fine day milord?" I ask him after a while - you know, to get him going. It's not like he's really hearing me though. He keeps looking down at me and not until another good while does he finally say something, albeit not something particularly informative: "You, you there." he says. I nod patiently, because well, it's only me there. "Are you a jester?" he continues. With a big whopping belled hat on my head I can't really deny that. So I answer him, that yes, that is indeed what I am. And a fool to sport. 
... And then he promptly offers me a job! And not just any job - as a hired performer at the coming harvest festival! Just like that! Hired entertainment - that's me! He mentioned something about payment too, but by that time I was too busy dancing with farmer Glick's prize cows to really care.

I'd planned to go to the festival anyway of course - wild horses would not have stopped me - but to have someone just show up in a crowd and actually invite me to it! That's just so funny I don't know what do with myself. Thanks mylord Elbahn, you surely had a blast with me today.

Say 'hi' to Mrs Buttons!

I have a puppet. A sweet little jester-girl handpuppet with a red hat and buttons for eyes. I call her 'Buttons' and I made her myself - I'm very proud of that. The only problem is that she won't shut up. Not only is that one of the most talkative hand puppets I've ever met, she's really nasty to me most of the time too. Quite a chip on her shoulder she has, that puppet.
... But heck, I like her anyway (just don't tell her), and people tend to do too. Met a sweet gal in the square today. Didn't get much time to talk to her, but she liked Buttons (again, don't tell her, she'll be completely impossible!) and dropped a coin on my foot - which Buttons then promptly tried to steal - before she rushed off.

Lots of reconstruction employment going around - a whopping ten silvers a day too. If I was strong enough to carry more than my own hat that would sound like a fun deal. But surely the workers should need some good fashioned entertainin' though when they lug around in their bodily odours ...?
... Oh, hush Buttons. I don't smell!

Surprises

My lord Elbahn, the art of surprise has many faces. People in Seahaven don't tend to like surprises. I think it's mostly because surprises usually mean either someone putting a gritty hand in your purse or sometone putting a gritty hand in your gut. Now, me, I like surprises, fool as I am (although I'm trying to avoid big gritty hands as much as anybody). Luckily, because I am a fool, I'm surprised all the time. Life's good.

... Where was I? Right, surprises. Rainy evening, walking in the street when suddenly I see Martha in front of me. A peach of a shot to pounce her from behind. Got a good grip too. Martha got really scared and flailed about a bit - but it's not easy to shake a jester when she has gotten a good grip! Hit-and-run Jesterin', that's what it was. Sweet Martha recovered fast though, she must be getting used to me.
 Martha's a good 'un. Very serious, but she has the heart in the right place and is a lot of fun when the corners of her mouth is not down by her knees.

Introducing myself

Hello, Elbahn, god of luck and chaos.

Maybe I should introduce myself.
Which is sort of a tricky business since I don't really have a name.

Or rather, I have many, many names. I wish the story about that was all dramatic, epic and sad, but it's really not.

It was mostly a lack of time I think. Noone simply had the time to name me as a kid. My parents died around the time I was born and noone knew them very well. But luck (yeah, I'm talking about you, lord) had me sort of jointly raised by whichever slum family could afford me at the moment. Noone really wanted that much responsibility so as to declare a particular name for me, so instead I got a new name for each place I went.

Even to this day, I have people name me whatever they like. Most of the time they enjoy it and come up with wonderful names for me. I like (almost) all my names, why should I have to pick a single one?

... Alright, so I am a girl of many names. I guess you might call me The Jester, for that is what I am. A fool, a harlequin. That's not a name, but in many ways that's who I am. As for a name you won't know until you gave me a name of your own. I'm sure a god could really come up with a splendid name for me. Maybe even the name my parents had once intended, before they died ... Ah well, silly girls can dream.

Found some papers

I always thought it sounded like a lot of fun to write a diary. So now that a nice big wad of blank paper has fallen into my lap (literally fell. Don't ask), then I think I'll actually try to do so.

So, hi, diary. Nice 'ta meet ya.

...

... No, I can't talk to a friggin' paper. I may be a fool, but I'm used to talking to people. So I think I'll write to Elbahn instead.

Ahem.

Hi Elbahn, God of luck and Chaos. I hope you don't mind me writing you, but I sure have talked to you a lot over the years so I thought I might just as well write ya too. Feel free to ignore me if you want - I mean, you must be terribly busy, being a god and all, to listen to a wee little fool like me. Don't worry, I'm used to people not listening to me, not even I would be silly enough to expect gods to pay me any more heed than mortal folk.

So, um, I guess that's it for the moment. Have a nice 'un.