Kenshi! The Heroic (?) Adventures of X'anista

Day 2 [ 6:53 PM ] I mined all night and into this new day, and then was suddenly attacked out of nowhere by a band of starving bandits. Faced with a pack of desperate, bedraggled men, I employed the ancient and respected technique of running for my life. All the way back up into Hub, and into the Bar itself. Thankfully, the locals must have been less offended by my naked, battered form than by the clamoring maniacs doing the battering, for they leapt to my defense... though not soon enough to keep a crushing stomach blow from knocking me senseless. They left me lying there for several hours while I bled internally. But I got the last laugh, since they had also beaten all of the bandits to death or unconsciousness, and then tossed their bodies outside. [ 6:56 PM ] Eventually, before I could bleed to death, I picked myself back up, and dragged my sorry ass over to the merchant/barman who had been standing roughly six feet away contempla...

Day 1 With no past and no future but the one I intend to make for myself, I, X'anista, a scorchlander human woman bent on adventure, have arrived in the humble town (read: shitty rathole) of "Hub". With nothing to my name but a.. well, it might have once been a sword, but it's more like a metal stick.. and some pants (no shirt), and, somehow, 1000 cats (the local currency), I needed to figure out what to do with myself. [ 6:48 PM ] Of Primary import is Not Starving To Death, and so I need funds, resources. This money won't last forever, and food, as I discovered when I visited the Bar (the only public building and one of the few that isn't just.. literally ruins), is dear. Though not so dear as better weapons.. I'll worry about that later, I suppose. I went through several houses and took a bunch of unattended empty jugs and such, and sold them back. No one got mad at me, so apparently this isn't stealing (not that I'll...

I am writing this journal so that historians in ages to come may have a true account of my humble beginnings and climb to greatness which are both as inevitable as they are sure to be dramatic and memorable. Let none doubt the generosity of my spirit, nor the veracity of my tale! Or do, I don't care. Odds are this journal will end up as a curiosity excavated from some lost ruin, buried under rubble along with the rest of me. Or perhaps confiscated and burned by my enemies, to erase all trace of me.. or to use as fuel to start a fire.  But on the off chance it survives? That this is being read by someone other than me? If that happens, dear reader, then know that I started with nothing. And the rest, as they say, and as you can attest in whether you've heard of me or not... is history. Or rather, HER story. Mine. X'anista.