Today’s snippet, titled “Rizlin’s Road Diary, Part Two”, is a piece I wrote about an NPC in my Pathfinder Campaign (sort of the “King Maker” adventure path). The intention behind this was to illustrate events occurring in the world, but away from the PCs. They’re supposed to be writing their own pieces about actual in-game events. We shall see if any materialize.
      Be forewarned, there are mature themes and naughty language below.
– – – – – – – – – – –

Rova 20th, 4709

Dear Diary,
      Still our friends sleep, and still I worry that they may never wake. Of course I do not dare speak those fears aloud. I have come to spend so many hours at Gavriil’s side – I find that we have much in common, but that he has a whimsically gruff side, a low, rough aura of ruggedness. It is very attractive.
      I believe I shall kiss him and see if he feels the same.
      Or perhaps… I shall not.
      We located what seems to be a very hearty vein of gold running through these lands and I swear to you, I felt His presence there. The raw gold in the walls of the cavern seemed to me that they were Abadar’s very breath made physical.
      It was a wonderful, sacred moment.
            ~Rizlin

Rova 24th, 4709

Dear Diary,
      I am kissed.
      Though there are so many things to tell you – this day saw the resanctification of a holy place that had been desecrated for decades or more, an enormous battle with a massive, insane, cursed bear-druid-abomination, a miracle of Erastil’s power, and such celebrations… Though our friends still sleep, Gavriil opened a fine bottle of wine and we indulged.
      Then, later in the evening, camped out in the beautiful, ancient temple of Erastil… he kissed me. Not a chaste brushing of lip to forehead or cheek, but a real, true kiss. Tongues caressing, arms and legs entwined… his hand found its way into my bodice – and I admit this only here, on a page where no one will ever see it – and I almost let him keep going.
      My uncle would become ballistic were he to know, but the men do it in their youths, so why not me? A little fling, harmless fun… and as long as no bastards are produced, who could blame me?
      Though I fear it could be more than that. So much more than that. And I have to admit it to myself, were Rove not sleeping in the same tent and thus close enough to hear every gasp or moan, I might have fallen into his arms and let him take me.
      But I was ‘good’, as a priestess and noble daughter ought to be.
      Still…
            ~Rizlin

Rova 25th, 4709

Dear Diary,
      One day I shall have so much more to write and recall about these strange days spent upon the road… for instance, the little gnomish cleric, Elijah and his gift of Faebread.
      But today, I can only say that things have changed between Gavriil and I. He has sent Rove to sleep with the other grooms tonight and I wonder – will I have the strength to fend off his advances?
      Because a great part of me does not want to…
            ~Rizlin

Rova 27th, 4709

Dear Diary,
      Those frogs were amongst the most horrible things I have ever witnessed. And when the three mighty warriors – Gavriil, Erin, and Lexi – ended up swallowed… utterly consumed… I have never been more frightened in my life.
      The boys – Rove, Tymor & Boris – are fine companions, good company and full of juvenile antics, but they are mere boys and when the last line of defense between those evil toads and me were three teenaged boys with bows? I felt my knees lock and I decided that I must become better acquainted with my mace and shield.
      I am not much of a warrior, but I shall have to discuss some extra lessons with Gavriil for though I am a lady cloaked in Golden Righteousness and fearless against the evils of the world… the very real possibility of death and of being utterly unable to defend myself, left me terrified.
      As I lay here, listening to Gavriil’s soft snores in the darkest part of night, I worry that I am not strong enough for this life. Perhaps my uncle was right – I am just a bit of fluff to marry off in search of allies or additional power…
      What a depressing thought. I shall not let it cross my mind again.
            ~Rizlin

Lamashan 1st, 4709

Dear Diary,
      Erastil’s smallest, most enigmatic cleric has granted a miracle upon our sleeping friends. After fourteen days – I think – they have awakened. They are ravenous and gaunt, but alive and well. I am so very relieved.
      I shall write more this evening… things are so very strange (and sometimes, wonderful…)
            ~Rizlin
Continued…
      Lexi has determined that the source of her recent difficulties is the jagged sword she carries. It was a trophy taken from the corpse of a barbaric hobgoblin Queen – the story of whom, I should quite love to record in this journal, for to hear Rising Phoenix speak of it, it was heroic, terrifying, and flat-out epic.
      Only time will tell if her attempts to leave the blade behind cure the… matter.
            ~Rizlin

Lamashan 7th, 4709

Dear Diary,
      A most intriguing, startling, intensely odd thing happened today. Our friend, Lexi, awoke this day in a most puzzling state. She – is no longer a “she”, but rather, a “he”.
      Never had I considered such a possibility. Born a woman, but to live in the body of a man? What if I were to wield her cursed blade and become the son my father always wanted and to void my importance as a pretty little thing to be auctioned off to the highest bidder? To be able to prove my own worth with my wit and wisdom instead of merely accepting the fact that I am only as important as the man who beds and weds me?
      Somehow I doubt that Gavriil would still want me, as he does, were I to possess a cock of my own.
      How strange it would be to look down and see that flaccid thing laying there between my own thighs? I would know, once and for all, I guess, how men even manage to walk with that hanging there. And how they manage to sit without crushing their testicles. I can only imagine how alien this all must be for poor Lexi – no Lex.
      I wonder if Zehavah is as curious as I would be… will she kneel down before her lover and pleasure his brand new manhood with lips and tongue? To see how much Gavriil enjoys that – to see how sated a man can become with that one act – I imagine that in her place, I would, and were I Lex, to awaken with a tool like that betwixt my thighs, I would want to know how that felt as well…
      Oh, Rizlin, you had better pray no one ever reads this filth! You could be drummed out of the Golden Order for being a sick and twisted deviant – secretly wishing to experience those sensations, and life at large, as a male.
      I shall write no more; but curl up in Gavriil’s arms and do my best to show him my affection without giving him my virtue.
            ~Rizlin
– – – – – – – – – – –

Note: Image is “A Diary” by Race Eend from SXC.hu