25, November - Venore City

“At best Venore is a rubbish tip; full of vagabonds, thieves’s and rats.”
From Tibia, a History by H.A. Alston.

Midday
Phew the journey through the swamps was certainly exhausting for both me and the pair (Ying and Yang that is). We managed it in two days (must be a record for an old dwarf and her two donkeys) with the broken chair in the back of my wagon tied down with rope. I’m in Venore for two reasons: to get the chair fixed and to, hopefully (I said a couple of prayers to the gods), to find a new job.
I’ve left Ying and Yang just outside the city in a nice stable which was thirty gold a day - can you believe it? No, your right, neither could I. Well I sit in a quaint (if there’s such a thing in Venore) café with a cup of what they call coffee (it’s quite strong with a horrible foreign tangy flavour) as I write this and am about to lug the chair off to the furniture warehouse. I could find someone to lug it for me. I’ve got a couple of coins left. Hmm, maybe…

Sunset, 6 o clock.
Well, I can say in the end the chair managed to be take to the warehouse. I’m not going to say how though. That would be too embarrassing. I’ll just wave that part away, and tell you some shocking news. I was coming back from the warehouse (my purse was considerably lighter) and about to descend into the local depot when… it was terrible. The streets of this foul city were red and smoking. There was flickering flames and bodies scattered about. A giant massacre. Oh the horror. My stomach will never be the same again. Those poor, poor people. I can feel the tears on my cheeks now as I write. A little embarrassing. No wonder this city is the last on the list of the Tibian Explorer Society’s ’100 Places to Visit in a Life Time’.
It’s just too horrid.

11 o clock
In the end I managed to find a nice place to stay, it’s a loft above the local florists. The owner is a charming and surprisingly young man by the name of - well I’ve forgotten but I’m sure it’s something nice. The loft is cosy, with a little coal cooker and a nice window looking down on to the streets. I think I should write to everyone back at the Shack. Yes that’s what I’ll do.

- Hester