The Outcast Kings

Theod's Log - I FOUND A KNIFE

It’s good to get out of the city town village amalgamation of huts I currently am forced to call home. We started with some exploration of canyons south of our settlement. As per standard operating procedure, we laid eyes on a majestic creature of nature and decided the most noble course of action would be to slaughter it mercilessly. We saw a large turtle and decided making a stew of it would be the kindest thing. To be frank, I feel as if my talents are being quite wasted in these endeavors. There’s no pride to be won in sparing my finite patience on weaving a tapestry of tricks, lies, and phantasms to give a reptile a headache. As such, I decided to have some fun. I blasted the creature with light and began to think about a potential new kind of shoe. Thinking of reptiles, I decided to call it… a “gator.” Perhaps it could be a squeaky shoe, I don’t know I was bored. Needless to say, we killed the pitiable beast. One curious find from this encounter was a magic stone. Upon closer inspection, Wyn and I (but I did most the of the work) discovered that it was a stone capable of summoning a water elemental! Surely such a object will be invaluable in upcoming adventures.

The next day…

We uncovered a bog. An eerie place, really. Still feel sick thinking about it. I don’t know quite what was in the air. I lost focus early into our journey into the swamp, as I began to feel quite ill. I believe others were sick as well, but I did not pay attention. I believe I heard someone mention seeing mushrooms moving in the distance? I guess the others were more ill than I. Eventually, they grew delirious and began throwing rocks at random (many of them in my direction, actually). I grew frustrated and left. I guess the others followed soon after. Another day saved by a grumpy wizard with a headache.

The next day…

Travelling even further south, we sighted an isolated island within the river playing host to an old ruin. Seemed like a reasonable enough thing to do. Seeing no way across the river, we decided to build a raft. Realizing I’d do little to help (I skipped the lecture on raft construction), and given Krom’s refusal of even token gestures of assistance, I sat idly by. That didn’t stop him from again grumbling about my uselessness again, but I digress (note to self: add more sand to Krom’s underpants [note within a note: discover if the brute even WEARS underpants]). We’ll set off for the island in the morning.

The next day…

Sun up. According to plan. Boat ride. Felt good. Others saw lights. Whatever.

Went to island. Boat ride good. Party spooked. Felt great. Not a care. Found some magic. Cool knife. Wyn didn’t think so. Felt sick. I took it. Liked the knife.

Met a ghost. Didn’t like Magic Missile. Wanted to eat us. We objected. More ghosts came. They sought compromise. Still like living. Said elemental stone held angel. Ghosts bought it. They backed off. We escaped. I kept knife. Day was good.

(*as a note for the previous entry, my mental state seems to be questionable. Current theory suggests that, as I was the only one doing much to harm the spectres of the island, the phantasms may have been trying to affect my mind in a substantial way. Perhaps they desired me to indiscriminately stab and murder my cohorts? In such light, I guess I was fortunate enough to remain the master of my mental faculties and forge enough of a plan to get everyone off of the island unmolested).


Legacy Bungles

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