Dear Whomever,
Things have gone from dark to dismal. After the longest bathysphere ride with an undead captain I hope I ever take, we arrived on the tiny island that was our destination. While aboard the bathysphere I took in a session of the I Ching, a sort of fortune telling game. The old alchemist threw some bones down and lo and behold I received "the well". What do you suppose that means? I'll tell you-- a fundamental inability to complete my life's goals. Terrific.
Ashleigh of course took this ride as an opportunity to make nastly little comments about my journaling and my poetry. Sadush was being terribly forthright with Maleogre and so very moral. I've always considered myself a good person, but out here in the world... I don't know. It's taxing to always be so fair and moral and sugary sweet.
Once we landed we got Maleogre the Alchemist to agree to wait for us on the beach. As you know, we traveled here because of the dreams we've been having in which halflings are sacrificed by lizardfolk beneath immense stone dragons. What's strange is that the dragons on the island are not the dragons I've been dreaming about. The stautues in my dreams are much more ominous. I didn't tell the other three. None of them said anything about it, so I assume the dragon statues on the island are, indeed, the same stautues from their dreams. Why then am I having different dreams.
The halflings on the island were less than amicable and seemed generally upset to have a warlock in their midst. They claimed that their lot and the lizardfolk had always lived peacefully on opposite ends of the island. They would offer no help unless we could prove the lizardfolk had indeed sacrificed halflings. That said, we set a path for the other end of the island.
We were confronted with such horror! Scores and scores of animated halfling skeletons guarding the entrance to some sort of lizardfolk compound! Ashleigh, much to my chagrin, has been learning magic and took three skeletons out with one fell swoop. I know she's only doing this to be mean to me. I'm starting to really hate my brother, Erevan. Ashleigh's magic was not enough nor, to be fair, was mine. Ashleigh and Sadush were nearly killed and were taken into the compund. Thank Correllian that Laird survived. I'm waiting for her on the beach as I write this.
It is up to us now. I've brought a halfling skeleton with me as a proof that their people are being sacrificed to nefarious ends. I hope they see the light.
What's most surprising in all of this is that I am the one still alive. I am the one entrusted to rescue the others. I don't think anybody, myself included, thought this possible. As it turns out, I am the most powerful and not Ashleigh.
Please let me find the strength to continue.
No time for poetry!
Keep It Secret,
Illander Illrune
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1 comment:
There's always time for poetry.
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