Where shall I begin? So much has happened since last I sat down to rest my weary bones and gather all the pieces together. Those strands of memories, that miasmic cacophony of symbols, from a dozen language, that bounce endlessly around and round inside my head. One pays the price for power. Each spell I cast is wretched from my consciousness, to manifest on the material plane, leaving behind a star-burst hole, a vague patch of rainbow debris. It is as exhilarating as it is debilitating. Let me tell you, not just anyone has the ability to wield such forces and maintain their sanity. Were was I? oh yes, to begin with those catacombs under Thistletop were atrocious. Defiled by the presence of Lamashtu, and worse yet, goblins! Even now it pains me to recall those moments of terror. Let me recount the tale in more depth, for posterity’s sake: Upon discovering a hall cursed by the Mother of All Beasts, and it being inhabited by vile demons – we made haste on towards yonder exit. Whence we were confronted, at the stairs, by none other than Bruthasemus the mighty goblinoid woodsman. At which time he let fly one arrow into my chest. The force of that shot nearly knocked me down, as my vision began to fade I fumbled in my bag and found it! The potion that saved my life, I give praise to those clever alchemists, if it were not for their elixirs I would have surely been dead. Despite that small victory our party was still in the midst of a fierce battle. To make things worse that bastard of a bugbear wanted wanted to eat me, how rude! Given my chemically renew vigor I ran for safety in the room next door slamming it behind me. I could still hear the bellows of the monster on the other side as my friends carried on the fight. At this point I realized what a coward I was and threw open the door unleashing the last of my arcane power at our foes! Needless to say we were triumphant, I am beginning to feel that I can pull my own weight.
My keen senses, honed by years observing the forest creatures in the land of my youth, have coming in handy time and again. For I spotted a hidden door, the back entrance to the succubus’s lair. She was mutated by the dark powers of her patron Lady and not wholly unattractive. She put up a fierce fight but could not stand before the combined strength of Telrandans’s hammer and Gorgutz’s great-sword. Upon close inspection of her remains it would appear that the poor girl had at least half a dozen Cesarian sections and perched on the selves in her room were unspeakable organs preserved in jars. Upon her persons we found a powerful amulet in the shape of a seven pointed star, and after a quick vote it was decided that Gorgutz should receive the prize. I must confess that I was jealous, I wanted the medallion for myself. In light of the circumstances I hardly feel right admitting this now that our friends has passed from this plane. I do suspect that his adventures are just beginning because I know this life is but one reflection of the entirety of the cosmos, I believe ours souls are light beams and that the universe is like a multifaceted gem. When we pass through it our selves are refracted into countless permutations of which this existence is but one. He will be missed. On that sombre note we prepare for the quest that lies ahead. It has been decided; we shall rest a few days and then set out for the great City of Monuments. This shall not be my first visit to Magnimar, the city can be rough on new faces and I fear their naivety. I will have to keep a close eye on my friends.