Constant Rain

The constant rain of Mourningdale makes for slippery, uneven ground. Grass often shifts under my boots, squelching and squishing in the mud. A Master Fisher needs a pair of sturdy, water-proof boots. I wear my late father's, though they are a size too big and often fill with rainwater around my ankles. No craftsperson in Aeternum could ever match the Old World stitching on these, and when I close my eyes it is as if father is with me. I fish in silence, guarded by memories and protected by my parents' last gifts to me.