Hello again, book,
I can’t help but notice you’re looking particularly voluminous
today. It’s a good look… suits you… and…erm… Oh for fucks sake, what am I
doing? Giving compliments shouldn’t be this hard! Illiterate cretins can give
compliments, and I’ve had one of the best educations there is. Anyway, I’m
trying to get some practice in being… nicer. Depressing as it is, these
companions are the only people in several hundred miles that are even slightly
invested in my not dying, so its worth a try.
Things have been difficult of late. As much as I hate to
admit it, Borgen’s death hit me hard. Why I’ve made so much of an effort not let
the others find out I don’t know. I assume they just wouldn’t understand. He’s
not the first death we’ve seen since we’ve been in Chult, and it seems
hypocritical to be so bothered by the death of one dwarf when I’ve done so much
killing “experimental mortality research” of my own. As annoying as the
barbarian was, damn it if I didn’t feel safe when he was around. I knew
that no matter what man-eating horror we faced, it would spend so long chewing
through his thick hide and picking the beard hairs out of its many teeth, that
at the very least I’d have time to scarper. Then the selfish bastard had to go
and die, and I don’t know whether to blame him, the forest, or myself. I should have taken his demise to be the moment to
stop drinking, but instead I got worse. When I learned Drev’nae had an alchemist
jug, an essentially infinite supply of wine, I snapped. Things escalated rather
fast, and I must admit that some of it may have possibly been at least partially
my fault. I mean, she didn’t have to hit me quite so hard, but then I probably
shouldn’t have tried to steal the jug. Nice to see my polymorph spell work
though, its been years since I’ve been powerful enough to cast one of those.
Still, the situation settled down eventually, and the only
damage was my headache and Drev’nae’s pride. I’ve resolved to stop drinking,
and I think it brought us a bit closer. That said, it’s not easy to tell with
those two. I learnt some of Velverin’s family history, and it almost made glad
not to know anything about my own... Almost. Either way, it explains his
temperament and his tendency to talk to ghosts. Drev’nae seems more jaded recently. Poor thing must have
lived a sheltered life in fey-wilds. Not sheltered as in safe I’m sure, not
with the way she fights, but morally sheltered. She seems to have thought the
world is divided into two sorts of people, those to give flowers to and those
to club over the head with a mace. I remember the days when I felt like that,
when I would state confidently that there is something inherently wrong, broken
even, about evil or selfish people. But then you try and work out what? Why? Then
you realise to your dismay that there doesn’t seem to be an answer. Perhaps the
evil or the indifferent are the enlightened ones, the only people that are fundamentally
honest and true to themselves. It’s a hard concept to stomach and most try not
to think about it. Difficult as it is, the alternative, to hide potential
knowledge from oneself, would be unbearable to me. Drev’nae isn’t at that stage
of course, probably never will be. She’s stubborn, and will cling to her faith,
her loyalties no matter what. Meeting this new paladin seems to have cheered
her up, even though she can barely form a sentence around him. Speaking of
which, Velverin decided to convince him I was a court Jester. Me! A Jester! He’ll
regret that. I suppose I’m going to have to start making some entertainment
around here. I’ve always been told I had a dark sense of humour. We shall see
if everyone else shares it…
PS Everyone we’ve met recently has been behaving very
oddly recently. Whenever I come out of invisibility to talk to people, they
react with anger and alarm. I can’t think why, but should look into it when I
get the time.
PPS Found evidence of were-newts! I’m amazed
any made it so far away from the university, and will have to investigate
further, even though my companions don’t believe me.
