((OOC:Disclaimer: This Diary is currently focused on backstory, and is set over a variety of dates and events of note, within the PC's life. It is not a recent history. When I finish with her history, it will be up to date, and focus on current issues.))

The cover of this small, delicate book are ragged, stolen of their former beauty. Now littered with stains, some of which seem to be the deep brown of old blood. Proudly on the front cover is a finely drawn Family Crest, obviously that of the Verdelet Family.

Flicking through the pages of her old Diary, Charlotte reminisces and casually glances over the book with gentle tears welling in her eyes, as such the pages are stained with droplets of her emotions. The early pages tell the tale of the sole daughter and heiress to the Verdelet family. A romantic, mysterious child with a head full of faeries and dirty feet beneath her expensive skirts, she lives a life tucked away from harsh reality of Waterdeep, innocence preserved by her own daydreams and fantasies. A girl who dreams, chases after her hopes and make wishes upon shooting stars and birthday candles.

A simple Fairy Story is scrawled into the early pages of the book, in a childish, but obviously educated Hand. The page is rag eared, and due to the finger prints within the ink, it has obviously been read many times.

There was once upon a time a widow who had two daughters. The older looked so much like her mother and acted so much like her that whoever looked upon the daughter saw the mother. They were both so disagreeable and so proud that they were very hard to live with.

The younger was sweet and courteous. As people naturally love their own likeness, this mother spoiled her older daughter and at the same time was very mean to the younger daughter--she made her eat in the kitchen and work continually.

Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a day to bring home water in a pitcher from a well about a mile and a half from where the family lived. One day, as the younger daughter was at this fountain, there came to her a poor woman, who begged of her to let her drink.

"Oh! yes, with all my heart, ma'am," said kind girl; and rinsing immediately the pitcher, she took up some water from the clearest place of the fountain, and gave it to the old woman, holding up the pitcher all the while to make it easier for the woman to drink.

The old woman, having had her fill of water, said to her: "You are so very kind, my dear that I want to give you a gift." For this was a fairy, who was dressed like a poor country woman, to see how far the kindess and good manners of this courteous girl would go.

"I will give you for a gift," continued the Fairy, "that, every time you speak, there shall come out of your mouth either a flower or a jewel."

When the kind girl came home her mother scolded her for staying so long at the fountain.

"I beg your pardon, mamma, for being so late," said the poor girl.

And in speaking these words there came out of her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two diamonds.

"What is it I see there?" said the mother, quite astonished. "I think I see pearls and diamonds come out of the girl's mouth! How does this happen, child?"

This was the first time she had ever called her child.

The poor creature told her honestly what had happened, and while speaking, dropping many diamonds out of her mouth.

"In good faith," cried the mother, "I must send your sister. Come here, my dearest; look what comes out of your sister's mouth when she speaks. Wouldn't you be glad, my dear, to have the same gift given to you? You don't have to do anything but go and draw water out of the fountain, and when a certain poor woman asks you to let her drink, to give it to her very kindly."

"It would be a very fine sight indeed," said this ill-mannered girl, "to see me go draw water."

"You shall go, you cantankerous girl!" said the mother; "and this minute."

So away the mean girl went, but complained the whole way there, taking with her the best silver tankard in the house.

She was no sooner at the fountain than she saw coming out of the wood a lady most beautifully dressed, who came up to the girl, and asked to drink. This was, you must know, the very fairy who appeared to the younger sister, but was now dressed and acted like a princess, to see how far this girl's rudeness would go.

"Am I here," said the proud, haughty girl, "to serve you with water? I suppose you think that I brought this silver tankard purely to serve you? However, you may drink out of it, if you want."

"You don't have many manners, do you," answered the Fairy, without getting upset. "Well, then, since you have so little breeding, and are so rude, I give you for a gift that at every word you speak there will come out of your mouth a snake or a toad."

So as soon as her mother saw her older daughter coming she cried out: "Well, daughter?"

"Well, mother?" answered the rude girl, spitting out of her mouth two vipers and two toads.

"Oh! mercy," cried the mother; "what is this I see? Oh! it is that wretch her sister who has made this happen; but she shall pay for it." Immediately she ran to beat her. The poor child fled away from her mother, and went to hide herself in the forest, not far from the house.

The King's son, returning from a hunting trip, met the kind girl and asked her what she was doing there alone and why she was crying.

"Alas! sir, my mamma has turned me out of doors."

The King's son, who saw five or six pearls and as many diamonds come out of her mouth, asked her to tell him how that happened. She told him the whole story; and so, seeing how loving and kind she was, the King's son fell in love with her, and, took her to the palace of his father the King, and there married her.

As for the sister, she was so mean that even her own mother turned her out; and the miserable girl, having wandered about a good while without finding anybody to take her in, went deep into the woods and was never heard from again.

This page is written in a much more adult hand, although, it is still playful and innocent A symbol of Sune is delicately drawn upon the head of this page

What is written upon these pages is a list of affirmations

A Sunite inspires others to follow their hopes and dreams through pursuing her own.

A Sunite greets everyone with a welcoming smile, melting the hearts of friends and disarming her enemies.

A Sunite has dignity, which protects her from the opinions and spite of ignorant people.

A Sunite always looks beautiful, even when she is asleep.

A Sunite aims for perfection in every step.

A Sunite should be given fresh flowers everyday, even if she has to give them to herself.

A Sunite grows in recognition and stature in proportion to how much she treats others to her gifts.

A Sunite reflect’s her inner beauty in her aesthetic choices.

A Sunite goes to war against the violence of incivility with the weapons of etiquette and prodigal generosity.

A Sunite lives each day from the heart, expressing herself freely and treasuring every moment.

A Sunite has the right to spend her funds on beautiful things she does not need because beauty in itself is priceless.

A Sunite should follow her heart and believe in her dreams, even if the whole world seems to be against her.

A Sunite respects her environment and nurtures the beauty of nature.

A Sunite is never too busy to give a kind word or smile where it is needed.

A Sunite's most precious jewel is Hope, which lights her darkest days and shows her the beauty in every soul she meets.

The last Affirmation has been recently written over many times

A quick sketch of a beautiful woman, dressed in flowing robes, matching her long, finely kept hair

This page is written quickly, it appears to be a mantra to the author, the inner thoughts and queries of herself. It is obvious to whoever looks upon this page, that the woman who penned it is growing older, with more understanding than the former pages

..Children are the greatest appreciators of art, and indeed all forms of Beauty. They can, with purity of mind and joy, gaze upon a thing and smile the smile that says “You are Beautiful and I love you.” It needs no explanation. To recapture this wonder, this joy in the glory of our surroundings is not as difficult as it may seem. When one is tired, lost, down beaten, soul-hungry she should not allow herself to think, but to follow her heart to a source of beauty. Be it a rose garden, a church, an antique shop, an art gallery or simply her own small courtyard or rooftop, here she shall pause to fill herself with the delights of thoughtless beauty. It is impossible to describe, the wonder felt at the opening of the first blooms of spring, therefore do not seek to describe it, just feel it with all your senses, let it flood you with wonder, joy, love. If you are cynical, with your heart closed and a wall of bitter humour protecting you you shall fail this, let go of yourself, surrender to beauty and it shall become you.

She who see’s Beauty in life, will becoming beautiful in a way no scar nor years can mark.

Father, I have lost you, and my world has lost some of it's former Beauty...

This is the last page written for many years, as though there was something hindering the journal. The former pages give insight into the young woman's growth, her life before. That of nobility, airs of grace and formality. Recently, these pages seem to have been reread and the pages begin to curl with the obvious over flicking they have suffered.

The following page is more erratic than any that follow it, and is not as elegant, or finely inked. It still bears the hallmarks of it's author, tears stain the page, and blot the ink.

Whatever suffering my body has endured, whatever possessions I have lost, been stolen from my person. Whatever beatings I have endured, friends I have lost, Father, my home. Waterdeep, you seem so far from me now, but my heart will not lament any longer. I have not lost this book, nor the locket you gave me Father. I still look over your face, the portrait that was painted not two years before your death. And mother, she was so young, so Beautiful. You were so in love, you told me. You wished me to be like her, didn't you? I imagine that was why you gave me over to Sune, wasn't it, just as she gave herself to Lady Firehair.

I am free, as free as can be within the dark confines of the caverns I wander. No longer a slave, a slave to those forsaken Elves. Even Hanali Celanil could not bless them with the beauty of her people. Their skin was as dark as the pits they kept us in. I remember the Bitch's of Lloth, their whips...I am thankful for you eternally Sune, that my skin was not marked eternally by them.

Sanctuary, ironic I have came across you now. I had feared you a city of those Damned Drow, but no...you are free people, yet, I cannot help but feel like this is a false freedom. Sune, keep close to my heart now, and forever more.

I have been given the opportunity to have taken up residence with an old Couple, in the Residential district of the City. They allow me to stay in exchange for cooking meals and acting as a house keeper. I am a matron of sorts, a nanny, to their two Granddaughter's . All day I am either cooking them what little I can, or chasing after the children. Far away are my days surrounded by servants and my exasperated old nurse, trying to grow me into the Lady I was to become, had my life not been thrown into Blackness.

I am glad to have a chance to teach the girls of Sune, and the ways of love and beauty. I think, sometimes, they look at me with such blank expressions, that the idea that I can speak of love in this harsh reality is a joke, something they are keen to point out to me. But, I press on, filling them with the idea of family love, for they are well versed in such, with such a Dutiful Foster family, I dare not ask about the whereabouts of their parent's, for fear of throwing away what lessons I have taught them thus far. Sune, be within my heart, and keep my resolve strong. I miss Waterdeep so much, my friends, my old life. Father, Mother. I pray you take your seat in Brightwater, at the side of my Lady Firehair, and from their you whisper words into her ear, to keep her gaze upon me, and to fill my soul with your eternal love.

A small note is quickly scrawled at the bottom of the page, and drawn over numerous times

A Sunite's most precious jewel is Hope, which lights her darkest days and shows her the beauty in every soul she meets. ..how long must I cling to hope, before I am to accept this as my life?

A song came to my mind that my Mother often sang to me as a Girl, before she passed on to Brightwater. Too soon, Mama', you left me too soon, But this song of yours has always been in my mind, and my heart. Earlier this evening, before the girl's fell to slumber, I sang this to them, and watched them close as they gave in to their dreams;

Some blaze the precious beauties of their loves By precious stones, and other some by flowers, Some by the planets and celestial powers, Or by what else their fancy best approves; Yet I by none of these will blazon mine, But only say her self herself is like, For those similitude's I much dislike That are much used, though they be divine. In saying she is like herself, I say She hath no like, for she is past compare. Then who aright commends this creature rare Must say, "She is"; and there of force must stay, Because by words she cannot be expressed; So say, "She is," and wond'ring owe the rest.

Did I sing this for them, or for my own aching heart?

A small image is left in the spine of this page, delicately torn from another piece of parchment (Tears, again, stain this page)

The following four, or so, pages are ripped jagged from the book.