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Interspective
journal
It must be my fate to forever question my own purpose and usefullness. My skills in the dark were useless in the sewers, Garrett needs light for his greater skills at detecting trips, traps, and doors. So I could only watch and gaurd our rear. Stealth, completely out of the question with Grimgore and Protoss scraping along in their full plate but I remained vigilant. We probably would not have been as successful without Garrett who seems to have a sense of things, mayhaps the Lady Cidra could have worked the controls in the octagonal room but then maybe not being there was no engineering diagram of it. Thankfully we could avoid most of the sewer denizens, threw the pebble over the balcony as instructed by our cryptic "employer", and not long after arrived at the largest of the rooms we were to find, a scrying room of sorts.
Here began my internal doubt for we faced a human adorned in the religious trapping of the cult of Nageth who had with him an Otyguh unlike any others we have seen so far. I believe it was Cidra who said the thing was undead, mercy us Korgondraxis, why? The cleric was powerful and gave us some trouble, in fact he even caused our stout dwarf to feel fear and flee for a time but the resilient Grimgore was finally able to shake it off and resume the fight, though in restrospect it seems that he experienced some self doubt of his own. Most amazing was Protoss who eminated holy light and took the brunt of the assault. I attempted to keep him covered from a distance, not wanting to be knocked unconscious again, but my attemts were futile. Never have I been so humiliated, I could not hit the undead carrion eater if it where the broad side of an oak forest. I suppose though that if I look at it from mothers perspective I did hinder it from burrowing or flying away, not that it was attempting to do either. I finally achieved a hit just as Grimgore returned, which softened it a bit for him to cleve it in twain as is his style. Lucky I was at a distance.
So were do I fit? What is my purpose? Not just in this group but in the grand sceme? And how can I overcome my ineffectuality to succeed and live.
Protoss had said that he felt a connection between the evil eminating from the meteor and the evil from the cleric though the cleric was much fainter.
So we leave the sewers and make our way to the Temple of Mitre for rest and healing, stopping on our way for everyone to clean up a bit first. I go on, being the only one unscathed and covered in shite, to attain rooms at the inn called Jeer's, why is it though that I am the one that feels most dirty?

Associated Regions: Atma
From the journal of Obtenibrous

Contributor: Joe Cockfield