Fool’s Gold

My name’s Tansy Goldbutton, and this journal is the last gift my Ma gave me before she wandered off five years ago. I haven’t had much to write about before now, but today I’ve got some stuff on my mind, so I’ve dusted it off and filled an inkwell.

My earliest memories are at the Fool’s Gold tavern, from when I was small enough to wedge myself between the four legs of one of Mr. Deeppockets’ bar stools and pretend I was a prisoner. These days I feel like a prisoner for real, sometimes, and I’m a little too big to hide… at least from Mr. Deeppockets. Mr. Wendel Deeppockets, I mean. His brother Mr. Mac Deeppockets isn’t so bad, but Mr. Wendel makes my skin crawl sometimes.

I pretty much grew up here because my Ma, Aster Goldbutton, was a full time barmaid and didn’t have anyone else to look after me. My Pa was a druid, she told me, but he was a wandering soul… wandered so much I never met him. Well now Ma herself has gone and wandered off, looking for him I suspect, and here I still am, filling mugs and smiling. I don’t mind the customers, not one bit - they aren’t the reason my smile’s a little forced these days. It's the Deeppockets family that has me a little edgy. Everyone knows what kind of stuff they get up to, and it’s getting harder and harder to tell them no when they ask me to do some “extra” work on the side.

My shift’s over now, so I think maybe I’ll head down to the Storm Reapers’ farm. Maybe it’s in my blood, but I’m starting to feel like doing a little wandering of my own. And they say Karana looks out for those willing to walk the trail to his wisdom.