My name is Grant, I'm 19 years old, occupation mercenary. It's been a year since I took my last job. Food is low, rent is due, and my weapon's couldn't be more dull. After what happened on my last job I lost all hope for me, for everything really. I think I'm going to pack up soon and head off to train in the woods for awhile. Human interaction is something I don't care for or have the need to have. I only write these useless words to keep me from going crazy. Writing my thoughts keeps me calm and relaxed. I'm going to the blacksmiths today get my weapons sharped, and head to the woods to train then jobs. Entry 123 date hell I don't even know.