Pisca Neep Freemish
I am Pisca Neep Freemish and this is my diary.

This is me.

Hair:  Strawberry Blonde.
Eyes: Purple (No!)  Violet (Yes.)
Height: Two feet and ten inches.  Evanston the Barbarian Badger Crushing gnome was said to be Three feet six.  I am not that.
Weight:  Petite.  Of course.
Age:  Thirty-nine.  Until my birthday when I become a full and truly adult gnome.
Deity: Desna.  (Note to self.  Get a starknife.)

What else?  That's all for now.

It's been two weeks since I left Kaer Maga with Aunt Hattie's Sczarni friends.  This will be the first time I've been this far from the city.  If you don't count the trip to the House of the Moon, that is.  But that was mostly just the Cinderlands.

Illyakov has given me a little space on the floor in one of their wagons.  It's a nice little space on the floor.  As little spaces on floors go.  Life on the road isn't hard really.  The Sczarni sing and dance and play string instruments.  Too bad they aren't gnomes.  It's also a shame that the people in the towns that we come to don't seem more friendly.  Gypsies, tramps, and thieves, we hear it from the people of the towns.  They call us gypsies, tramps, and thieves.  But every night all the men would come around and lay their money down.  Very curious.

Illyakov is sending me off alone to a town on the coast called Sandpoint.  It's supposed to be a secret, but everyone seems to know about it.  I'm supposed to contact a hummie named Jubrayl's Vhiski and to tell him that I'm to be a Rosencrantz, whatever that is.  Doesn't sound like a very Varisian word to me.