Gralen — I’ve been here before. Lesla and I were ambushed when we were on our way to Gralen, and shortly after we met the youngest shard-like offspring of Ar — the Nameless. Now master Jeran and me, we’re here — and it’s pretty peaceful.

Though that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to sketch or paint! If I go on like this, I’ll have to get more paper somewhere. An old lady plucking a goose (or maybe a gander). A girl drawing water from the well. A boy hemming his sister’s skirt. The huge copper cooling basin for beer in the evening light shining through the slats in the window. The light of the morning sun on the rippling water in the swimming hole just off the river.

Mizran, even the paths of the ants from their nest to the kitchen door — even that is beautiful, and interesting to paint, and beautiful and interesting aren’t the same thing, but it’s a good coincidence.

We stayed here for quite a few days, making portraits for sale, helping out, too, so I could learn how sweat feels, said master Jeran, because that would teach me to paint exertion better than anything else.

We had a lot of discussion, sometimes quite deep on why we paint and draw and sketch, and I was like, everything I see, everything is paintable! And he was like, you gotta learn to select! Otherwise there’s not enough pigment in the world. And he was right, and I was right, and I think we thoroughly overwhelmed the nice people here at the brewery with sketches and paintings.

I even painted a girl for her boyfriend, and him for her. Sooooo cute!

And then we got a big job: to paint eight panels, together, depicting the process of making great beer (meh, cider for me). To be done when we would be back, but we made sketches, already!