{DM} Browsing through the old trunk containing what remained of his parents things was something Red Dawn Hawk had once done every few years. But since ... since Nothroel, other losses had occupied what time the Elf had had for pensive reflection. Still, his belongings, kept for him by settled friends in Greengold these last many years, were just as he'd left them. His mother's trunk itself contained among other things several of her journals, pretty things, their embossed covers thoroughly familiar. He lingered over them for a moment, then brought to mind their contents. Or tried. Trivial platitudes? Personal notes? Nothing memorable. Nothing at ALL memorable. It was a long moment of confusion for the Elf, realizing he had never read the journals at all... the presence of strong enchantment raising the hairs on the small of his neck. He turned the journal over and over. Began to lift the hasp, but his training made him hesitate. It was true that Red Daw...