Illander's Journal

Dear Whomever,

It seems darkness surrounds us at every turn. We've lost the dungeon master and the dark ritual items we were carrying. We were tricked by dopplegangers. We're in the middle of a forest with a wood elf guide named Kumala. He's nice enough, but sort of dull. I can tell that Ashleigh likes him because she's always flinging her hair around and biting her bottom lip whenever she catches a glimpse of his abdominal muscles. By Corellian, I'm becoming so mean! ashleigh's been very kind to me, even giving me some of her Jasmine oil for my bath. She's even taken up poetry, though I'm sure it couldn't be as good as mine. My poems are like if I had slit my wrists and let the blood drip onto a page. That's how real they are, which nobody understands.

Anyway, we were nearly destroyed by screaming plants that we were supposed to procure for Jockamoolay in return for information. Even I was almost felled. Me! And I'm never hit! I honestly don't know what to do next. We can't go back to Jackamoolay empty handed, but these creatures just might be too strong for us to fight. And what about our dungeon master?

I've acquired a dark new power that I haven't told the others about. I'm somewhow able to call upon a darkness from the stars full of tiny biting mouths. I haven't used it yet, but I have to say I'm starting to adjust to my power. I'm actually starting to like it.

One last thing, and Corellian I hope nobody sneaks a peak at this journal, but I've stopped having the prophetic dreams. First I noticed that my dreams were different than the other chosen ones' and now they've stopped entirely. What does it all mean?

Blood.
Sweat.
Piss.
This is what the world is.
This is what the world is.
Hungry.
Tired.
Dangerous.
This is what Illander is.
This is what Illander is.
Stunning.
Cruel.
Nimble.
This is what _________ is.
This is what__________is.
With _________ you don't notice the other stuff too much.

Keep it Secret,
Illander Illrune