I have been swindled! Robbed!

 This is absolutely UNFORGIVABLE!

 The idiotic sods, selling their poor excuses of ''goods'', have swiped my pockets clean! A crime has been committed, yet no one even bats an eye! Blasphemy!

 During my travels across the Nation of Vistar, one of my two bags had been slashed and sacked by a band of thieving orphans, the weasels! Now, in this Gods-forsaken plain of housings, I wished to purchase a replacement. Of course, I did not expect to find anything close to befitting my lowest standard, yet any sack would have sufficed.

 Yet there I stood, staring at the only item, that could barely be considered as an intact traveling aid, with a price so preposterous, it would make King Vistar's beard gray into the Astral plane!

 And to salt my wounds, as I proposed to trade the pack, which had served me well, until the incident, the wretch- THE CHEAT- had the gall to barely halve the price! It was custom made, with only the highest quality leather and the most durable cloth. A robbery, I say!

 And they must've conspired against me. As I return to my quarters, the Innkeep, tells me to clear my apartments in the next 3 days, as some lowly Lord's holy men will be passing through.

 They! Throwing me out! For some lowly, no doubt lowborn cultists, so they could take refuge from a well-deserved shower! Throwing me out! ME! 'Tis a conspiracy, I say! Conspiracy!

 Even as I write this, my hand aches from HIS poor negotiation attempts. As if I would let some fanatics kick me out of my honest, yet undesirable, living spaces...

 Regardless, it would be best for me to leave.

 It has been roughly a week since my last entry, and it hasn't been an entirely dissatisfactory visit to this barren hamlet. The information I have acquired has pointed me toward an aged sea-port town. It is a source of the local fish trade and has the Nation's record of the biggest catch in a century.

 That last bit is quite useless... However, as the local Lord, with his ''Holy visitors'' is not well known, it seems like a good place to settle. Of course, more scouting is required, but I have information about an abandoned lighthouse, which would serve me just fine at the current moment. I have little doubt it wouldn't be worse than this dump calling itself ''proper housing for travelers.''

  As of this moment, however, I must move with haste, yet only now have I noticed, that I've been not only robbed but also sold a bag with faulty stitching, as it's ripped at the seams already.

 Granted, I travel light. By only bringing the essentials, I've decreased my travel time significantly, as there is no loose weight hindering my speed. I reckon, the coins I may have forfeited in the negotiation for my stay here will help me move with a swiftness never before witnessed!

 And for the record, I still think his face looks like a mole. His mustache is doing him no favors...

 I suppose I should enlighten You with the very reason of my travels.

 You see, I am on the quest for the mightiest of towers, to serve as my base of operation. Any self-respecting sorce- Astralist has a tower, overlooking all that is! Befitting, to an undertaking of such grandeur, as mastery of the Astral arts.

 Ballads sing of Gothard, The Mighty, forefather of all things elemental, grafting his own out of the flesh of mountains! Sigmund, the Wise, considered to be the first Battle-Sorcerer, pulled the tower, that lay a foundation for the Kingdom of Halldun, from the Astral planes themselves! And Master Kaliverian Serbus, the founder of the continent's first University, resides within the highest tower of the 3 Astralist safe-heavens in the known world!

 A tower is like a signature of power, thus I am on a pursuit of my own, for I am Sabinian, the... The... The yet-to-be-decided! Not having a tower would be a logical fallacy!

 The moon adorns the sky, as I have carefully decided what things I actually need. I do need all of them, yet you can only push so much in a single pack.

 The holy guests have arrived, and no one bothered to inform me, that it's the FUCKING INQUISITION! A band of brute fanatics, someone decided to give sharpened sticks to! The very reason young Astralists never live past 14... Shit...

 Though they ARE a day early, the innkeep seems to have thought of me as a jester, when I spoke of who I was. Good to know even the idiotic have a use... Even if it is their lack of sense.

 For now, I have a ride to catch, which will take me on a 2 day trip to Lockrifta, the port town. And I'm sure, even if the coachman may or may not be fully aware of a passenger, we will work something out. After all, he is transporting Sabinian, the... I'll think of something.

 P.S. I had a nightmare this week. Can't say I remember much of it, but it felt strange somehow. In a way, it felt... Alive.