Page 13
Dark figures stalk the shadows in the capital of the Kingdom.
Tales of war from beyond the great mountains have begun to circulate around the citizens.
Something is coming.
Maybe it’s time to seek shelter again in the wild forests of the realm.
Page 12
*upon opening the book a seemingly endless cascade of dust pours from the pages, quite disgusted you slam the book shut but before you close it you notice words written on the pages. Perhaps you’ll peek again later when the dust of age has been cleared*
Page 11
The drums of war are pounding. An ancient evil has been awakened in this land. Humans are such a strange race, their behavior is puzzling.
Vor, what have you done now?
Page 10
The Cult of the Shadow has struck into the very heart of The Kingdom.
In lieu of the Netherstone making an assault upon us not even a month ago it is safe to say that all is far from well.
Something ancient, dark and mysterious is amiss, per chance awakened by our advances upon Giant’s Peak? I do not know and am most certain I will not know until it has come to pass.
Page 9
Akin are easily the most stupid named beasts in this land. Stories as to how they became saddled with this moniker lead us to believe that when described they were told to be; “Akin to dragon whelps, only not.” Akin to dragon whelps only not? That’s the stupidest load of horse dung I’ve heard this side of the marshlands. Akin.
It would also seem that the caravan, a name also as stupid and inaccurate as akin as we do not caravan… at all… the caravan has been split in two, a move I find quite stupid and ultimately annoying. Allegedly we’re to be pit against one another in various games of might and magic but who can really know what in the hell Cr’itoo thinks he’s doing. Useless twit. Useless annoying twit. Akin, I still can’t get over how stupid that name is.
*there is a small solitary game scratched out here, and a poorly drawn horse leaping over a rock or a pond or something drawn near the edge of the page*
Dragons. Dragons are odd because when people ask where I came from I generally have to ask for a map. That map will almost always only have the Kingdom and some outlaying villages on it. Anything beyond that is just left blank and labeled “Here thar be dragons” and they draw a dragon terrorizing a village or something.
*you realize the above drawing is of a dragon terrorizing a village, not a horse leaping over anything*
So I’m inevitably forced to just jab wildly at the map and say “There!” because hell if I know where exactly I came from in a vast land of non-existence that surrounds the Kingdom. To which I’m always greeted with a look that, to me, would be more appropriate if I had said I had came from a goblins arse. “You come from there?” they babble; “Surely not, no, impossible, no one is alive out there.” To which I have to disagree and am then bombarded with questions about how I survived the dragons and how a savage like me ended up in the Kingdom. Savage, another word as stupid as akin. If we’re savages then why is it that the villages of the “great void” seem to be the only ones that can steadily churn out spellslingers while the “high kingdom” seems content with stout brutish warriors?
It’s all beside the point though.
And I’ve completely forgotten what I was going to write. I long for a spud, I find that with pyre majiks they make excellent explosive projectiles.
Or something like that.
Page 8
*the page, and book itself, is covered in a thick layer of dust*
It’s odd to lose the ability to write in a book.
It’s odd to lose the pen or even the book itself, yet to also know exactly where they are.
It’s odd.
Page 7
*bits of loose hair fall from the book as it opens to this page*
*the top of the page is smeared in mud, grime and other such ick*
-ate the entire thing.
Later I helped with the shearing of a great hairy beast. However nothing is as easy as it sounds at first, such too was this task. First we had to find and capture the hairy varmint which, in the end, was more of a snipe hunt than anything.
Once we finally had the blighter in tow we proceeded to cut huge chunks of fur from his body, much to his dismay. His cries and bellows pierced the sky, but to no avail. After a while we proceeded to break the beast’s will and he succumbed to the shears. Time and task passed quickly.
When at last we were satisfied we stepped back and the hulking creature had been reduced to quite a small and harmless looking thing. Angry at the world, as always, he slunk away back into the dense wilderness. While I’m unsure as to why we even did this, I’m told it helps the creature.
I long for a spud.
Page 6
*the top of the page is mostly burnt*
-is how I killed the dragon with nothing more than a stick of butter and a sharp stick.
I’m quite enjoying the new weaponry that was bestowed upon me recently, no doubt it will prove quite useful in future quests and misadventures.
Alas though, my jaw aches. I’ll have to seek out the aid of the doctor who did this to me…
Page 4
*the page is torn from the book*
Page 3
MilkEggsLynx whisker
AntipoisonFlint
Again with this damnable fog. It’s ill luck to do much within in, that’s where shades and spirits tend to dwell. They’ll grab you with their icy hands of wandering undeath and that’s the last of you.
Nevertheless, the monk and I rode out through it again to the nearby village. Although this time I purchased a mock image of a sea dwelling beast. The large boat eating kind with eight arms. This imitation of it seems quite harmless though.
Not much changed today from yesterday. As it should be.
Tomorrow I believe I’ll travel with the monk to seek out an old friend
The sun gets weary and the sun goes down, as does my pen, as is fate.
Page 2
*the top of the page seems to be smeared with mud and grime*
-came running from the forest covered in honey and being chased by what looked and sounded as a massive swarm of bees, much to the chagrin of his companions. Ah well, he got what was coming to him. Such is… idiots.
Yesterday’s adventure went off without any troubles. Aside from the weather. I rode out to the Greenwood Monastery and met up with the Trinity’s monk, after a brief exchange of greetings we set off to pick up the Trinity’s herbalist, all the way debating theology and exchanging ideas and theories.
With the herbalist in tow we broke into a gallop down the grade, as if riding living lightning we tore across the high planes, yet when we reached the outskirts we hit a bank of thick fog and we slowed to a trot. With a dull roar a ball of fire leapt to life in my hand yet it failed to achieve what we had hoped. Extinguishing the flame, we trotted on in silence.
Reaching the gorge though, the fog broke, and we returned to our mounted flight around the turns down to the river, across the ford and back up the other side. We slowed a final time when we reached the outlying edges of the village. Trotted to our destination and dismounted.
The return journey was much the same only the monk took board at the Overlook as opposed to the Greenwood Monastery.
There are fish here, it’s oddly hypnotic watching them. Makes me wonder what other beasts dwell beneath the waves back home.
I think I’ll put up my pen for now, tomorrow I think the monk and I shall go off in search of beasts to slay, maybe take up the search for the Netherstone citadel again… despite the constant failures on this task last year.
Bah. Our failures shall not hold us back, only set us in the right direction.
Or so we had hoped last time.
Oh well. Such is fate.
Damnable Netherstones.
Page 1
A pity to have lost my old book. 238 pages filled.
Oh well, such is fate.
Grabbed this book while purchasing supplies. May as well replace the old one. Heh. Picked up a new whetstone, don’t really need one at the moment but why not? It’s better to have one than to not, and it’s not as if it weighs much or takes up much space.
I don’t have much planned, I know I’m picking up the other two parts of The Trinity tomorrow and will embark on a quest. Other than that it’s just downtime. A nice break from the usual dragon slaying and such.
I can’t say I don’t enjoy this break, but I am looking forward to return to whence I came.
Such is fate.
