June 16, 5634 AE
I wish to catalogue my recent experiences. I have no way of knowing whether or not this will turn out to be a good idea; there is considerable risk to myself, in that someone could break into my room, bypass the lock on my chest, and use this journal to uncover secrets I should probably be taking measures to keep secret. Why, for all I know, someone is watching me write this right now; I have no way to detect magic myself, but I suspect anyone with the free time and power to watch me write on paper who wishes to do me ill would probably have swept me from the mortal plane by now. However, there is also the potential benefit of seeing my own insights and awakening new paths of thought, which lead to important epiphanies.
First, I suppose, a catalogue of my colleagues is in order. My thoughts on them are slightly disorganized; I've known each of them less than two weeks.
First is... or rather, was... another rogue named Ronald. He was, I am humble enough to admit, stealthier than I was, and greedier; he clearly displayed a trend towards being the more traditional rogue. Before we had even set out on our first mission, he had snuck away from the group- curious as to how his exploits would unfold, I said nothing- and managed to scare himself silly when he discovered the wizard Benus' caged "project". Since then, he has shown skill with a crossbow, reflexes towards traps that even I do not possess, and met his match: when we went to the town of Mathanus, he went to the Thieves' Guild (I suspect to trade them knowledge of the dwarven ruins for money, although it is also probable he had some kind of personal affair to deal with), and we next saw him being carried away on a stretcher by the town guard. As of his passing, I feel no compunctions against using his real name.
The next is a monk. I will not write his or any of my other living teammates' names here, to protect them against any who read this and wish them ill, although admittedly this protection is paltry at best. Although, I have heard of magic that depends upon knowing the target's name, but I digress into tangents. The monk bellows continuously about belonging to some tribe... wolf, it might have been, I don't really pay much attention to his war cries. He chooses, usually, to fight rather than solve his problems with logic, and he has a nigh uncanny ability to pin any and every problem he faces on demons. However, he is a stalwart fighter and a noble soul, valuable both as a teammate and as a friend.
We found a bard in the prison inside the dwarven ruins, with his possessions stripped of him and left in a nearby box. He seems to be the most intellectual of my colleagues; he is also the one I trust most to handle negotiations in an adult, professional manner. His bardic music and spells, as were Ger my previous overseer's, are beneficial to us all in combat, and he is nothing short of passionate (and on one occasion, downright violent) in haggling to the best of his ability. However, he is prone to lapses in judgement, as evidenced by his assault on that moneychanger, and his use of a Dancing Lights spell in a reconnaissance mission (I would have smacked him upside his head for that, were I not busy drawing my weapons for combat at the time; the next opportunity I got would have been disrespectful in the extreme, not just to him, but to the sorceress as well). The two of us maintain a system of mutual jibes.
When I left the others to their continued raid on the dwarven ruins, they apparently recruited a half-orc named Gurk. He doesn't speak much, but he seems capable of rational thought during combat, despite being a barbarian. He can dispatch foes at least as fast as I can... admittedly, he should be said to be a better combatant than I, for he is considerably more durable, and does not require an ally to provide a distraction to fight at his maximal potential, as I do. He also seems quite loyal to the group; something about some other orc or some event that I missed in the ruins. Oh well; his loyalty and strength are not dependant on my knowledge of a justification for them.
Next is a shopkeeper, who also happens to be a sorceress; she was the clerk at a magical item store in Mathanus, and we met her when trying to sell our plunder (and purchase some gear, like my gloves). Shortly after I left the shop (the bard was apparently still shopping), her shop burned down, and she escaped with only her life, her clothing (a downright shocking fraction of which turned out to be magical, due no doubt to her being a sorceress), and a wand of Identify, nearly depleted, that she used to measure the worth of goods she intended to purchase. Hers is an odd case; she is as troubled as she is beautiful (which is to say, in my journal's confidence, considerably). After that ambush in the tavern(s), she seemed to be melancholy for a week, and after her death and subsequent rebirth, she had no recollection of that week. I have a theory as to the source of her ails, which I fully intend to pursue and investigate tomorrow; as of right now, she should be applying an oil supplied to her by the wizard we reside with, to clear her head and give her a good night's sleep.
The last member of our ragtag bunch of misfits is a goblinoid ranger, who showed up at our base, staggeringly drunk. I used one of <two scribbled out letters> my predecessor's old hangover cures on him (I had some fun with it, but I stopped relatively soon; comedy is one thing, and abuse is another). Apparently he can grow fungus- incredibly specific fungus, apparently including highly incendiary ones- in the rather unique chest he carries in his backpack. He is mischievous; he was unapologetic towards the sorceress' temporary nudity upon her rebirth, and he is utterly fascinated by treasure, but he does not seem to pose a threat to the world at large. In fact, I think that if he stays with our group, we can pacify his more violent natures while preventing him from harming the innocent.
I suppose I should also make note of the wizard we live with, who has provided us with a dwelling we use as our base of operations. He is... mysterious, idiosyncratic, and perhaps slightly eccentric. He tried to play mind games with us when we first arrived, he shows up every time we are paid a decent sum of money by anyone (leading me to believe he either has some form of passive sensor acting upon the bard, or he is continuously spying on us with magic the sorceress cannot detect), I heard him engaging in an Abyssal chant once (ah, the journal provides me with some benefit after all), and the rooms he provided with us were like something from the plane of chaos. Ronald's room contained, among the meagre furnishings, a sleeping lion (thankfully tame) and a silver dagger. My own room contained an anvil, of all things. I think I'm going to have to purchase new furnishings soon, however, such as an alchemist's lab, and a new bed, door, and chest. Perhaps a desk, too.
...This will conclude the introduction for my journal for now; I'll leave a recap of my actual adventures for later (although most of them have been alluded to here). However, as I intend to partake in an endeavour with a potential risk on my own tomorrow, I will write my thoughts on a separate page and carry it with me... so that if I die and my allies find me, they can perhaps pursue that avenue of investigation. Here's hoping that this grisly prediction is meaningless. To my friends, if I fail to return, you must obtain the notes from my body.
Whew, that was wordy. Well, that befits someone of 16 intelligence who spent his recent backstory travelling with scholars. I'll have another journal entry after the next session.
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Topic: D&D: The mercenaries - Game Concluding (Read 127752 times)