This day has been dreadful. Infuriating. Awful. Horrible! I suppose any average person would not enjoy an invigorating foray into the sewer system of glorious Atma. But your average person would not be hunting members of a dangerous thieves' guild.
Though, to be truthful, the sewers were not that bad. As long as you watched your step. No, it has been the company that is dreadful. The only one with any sense is the shadowelf, Obtenebrus. He does, ummm, whatever he does and he's quiet about it. He doesn't get in my face. He doesn't butt into private conversations. He keeps himself to himself, unlike others.
In fact, just the mere thought of the next two members of this rag-tag consortium is enough to set my blood boiling. They can't leave well enough alone. Garrett and Grimgore. Their names may as well be pimple and pustule as they are generally nothing but an irritant and appear at the most infuriating times to spoil you day. How dare they interfere in my conversations! Neither Protoss nor myself invited them. I doubt Garrett would appreciate it if I were to interrupt a meeting with the museum staff. Or Grimgore if, if. . . if he ever participated in a serious conversation in his obnoxious drunken life.
These individuals may not agree with my views, but the difference is that I never asked them to change what they believe. Wasn't it enough for them to see Protoss dump a bucket of water over my head and then drop me bodily into the damned fountain? I suppose not.
I don't believe I will ever forget its disembodied voice emanating from the metal face. 'You're wrong. I am real.' Phft. It's not like I cannot accept the possibility of error. To be truthful, I was having second thoughts about my earlier hypothesis. By Aranor's sacred forehead, it created a holy symbol! And while it didn't really perform properly, it actually appeared to work, if the flash of white light was any indication. Like it or not, I am positive that an insensiate being, your typical mindless construct, would simply not be able to do that. However, to be bluntly honest, what does it matter in the end? He walks, he talks, he thinks grand ideas. Of course, it is somewhat flattering that Protoss seems to need my verification of said life.
The symbol Protoss carved. . .now that is another mystery. Diosciea, is the goddess' name. I must confess that I know little about her. Religion was never my favored subject. She is a rural deity, I believe, with a small following a bit beyond Atma's borders. How Protoss came to know of her, I have no idea. Perhaps there will be a time when we will journey to this town. Until then, I think I will need to do some research, as Protoss sounded so pleased when I said the name.
I wonder if the others think I should apologize for the way I treated Protoss. I wouldn't as in my eyes, I have acted no differently towards it than I have to the rogue, dwarf, or elf. In addition, I believed it to be a thing, not a person. Not that I am entirely convinced, but enough so to observe more closely and hold my tongue. Well, maybe I have treated him poorly in a few instances. I shall have to improve upon my behavior in the future. And I am planning on creating a present for him, when the time and resources are available.
The rest of the lot? Well, after the treatment I have received, I am not sure I wish to extend our association any longer than is necessary. I will continue to cast my magics to be most beneficial. I will not betray their confidences. But we are not a group. We are not friends, companions, even aquaintances really. We came together to help each other with our respective problems. A consortium, I think would be the appropriate term. And after I have found Grandfather or am satisfied with my answers, I will have done with them. Including Protoss. Either Grandfather can have his six-and-a-half-foot problem back, or Protoss will have to be made to see that he need not dog my steps.
My eyes are about to close of their own accord. It makes sense really, as I have expended all my magics for the day, trekked through the sewers, was covered in refuse, dunked, laughed at, and then yelled at. An absolutly dreadful day to be sure. But my will is set, and tomorrow we seek out Murdock. Hopefully, we will discover the next piece of this puzzle. |
