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22/07/1122

22nd day of the 7th, 1122

by Poet Laureate Grimwald Von Braunbär

Pip’s ship sits in port, quite a bit larger than I had imagined for just the two of us…
With the few remaining coins leftover from my pay, I visited some of the Franconian merchants, some even carried the Teutonian fashions from across the channel. I couldn’t help myself.
I look like one of the natives! If not a bit larger...
I sat in the Inn, staring at myself in the mirror. A hat perched atop my head with fur and feathers peacocking from its brim.
Is ‘Skud’ who I really want to be? Is ‘Skud’ the name of a poet?

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