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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs

 
 


Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!
So much has changed. Islan and I don't pick at each other as often. The terrain, seeing as how we are now in the freakin' desert. Bastian, the grey hair, came and left. Hell, Dolartu is a woman. Yes, a lot has changed.

I've come to terms with the idea that Islan is kinda my "father." But he's not, not really. I know I didn't spring from his loins. Wait, did I just say. . .AHHH! Scary thoughts! Scary thoughts!! He's just a young, well by elven standards, magic user who got his hands on a little power and, well, screwed up. To my benefit of course, since I guess I was dead for a few years. But when a god tells you he can't heal your weakness because I'm not human or something, you're going to rethink your position. No matter how stubborn you are or how necessary it is to your mental capacities that you maintain that illusion. Stupid gods.

This one, Jerrick, just talked in riddles. Didn't really answer any of our questions. I bet he didn't even know the answers anyway. He just wanted to see if we knew so we could tell him. Either that or it's one of those things we need to figure out ourselves "for our own good" and blah blah blah. Stupid, stupid gods. They can never help at the right time. Should just leave the adventuring to the adventurers. And there needs to be something else there in his realm other than stupid rolling hills!

Anyway, Jerrick sends us to the desert after deining to inform us that he had never sent people messages in dreams telling them to go after the crystal. Goody. That makes me feel a whole lot better. But we're working on finding the fourth shard. We would already be halfway home (as Anwar now carries the third crystal), but my dumb ass had to get my crystal stolen after I passed out drunk and alone in our room. Islan was next door, but I guess he was too wrapped up in his BOOKS to notice. Again. It was about then that we stopped arguing. At least all the time. In penance, I swore I would protect Islan and the crystal he carried. Anwar can protect herself. Islan is just too bleedin' oblivious.

So we went get into town after practically frying in the desert. There's a little boy running through the streets clutching something to his chest. He's really grungy. Old raggedy clothes. There's a bejeweled fat man puffing along behind him. Apparently the boy stole a loaf of bread and the fat man wanted "justice." Even after we gave him three times what the bread was worth. Said it was the principle of the thing. I almost stuck him with my principles. Several times. Jacques was going to turn the boy over, since we should follow the laws here and all. Forget it! Stupid laws. I know that kid. I was that kid. And there was no way I ws going to let him be taken up by guards and his hand cuopped off over a stinking loaf of bread just to satisfy some retarded twisted sense of justice. In hindsight though, it may have been better to let the fatty get the boy. The kid ran into a building. There was some magician, I guess, casting, ummm, something. Next thing I know, there's a wall of fire in front of me and some evil demon thing, (Bastian and Islan called it an Ifrit), is tearing up the city.

To sum it up, we all got burned. It sucked. The boy died. That was no good either. We killed the creature. That was good. Met the priests or clerics rather. They gave us a room in the palace. Then this guy who was supposed to be our servant showed up. He healed us all. Even me, though it took a LOT out of him. But we did stop the beastie from rampaging all across the city. Instead, it only ruined a couple of blocks. So now we're going into the catacombes under the city to the archives. Apparently, there's an elven woman somewhere down there. So it's to the rescue. Again.

From the journal of Arilyn

Contributor: Jess Landin