Diary of Teth-Anne

“Sheep!”

That was going through my mind as I arranged the party in its proper marching order. I just kept thinking, “Sheep!” My companions were actually allowing me to make decisions for the whole group, just as I knew they would when I first began bossing them around so many months ago. I am now the self-appointed leader of this mercenary outfit, but what could be more appropriate. Honestly, I don’t think I would be that interested in appointment by some other authority. I had assumed the role of a leader early in our party’s history, and now, at last, the real fruits of my efforts were beginning to bloom.

Bloom? Blossom? How should I end that phrase? It doesn’t matter. One day I will hire someone to make all my prose perfect. Afterwards I shall ghost the writer well and truly, and all will know of my true literary talents.

This is the future. Of that there can be no doubt.

You don’t understand, do you? You don’t have the background yet. It’s okay, my dear readers, I will accept your apology and take a little time to fill you in on the details. Just enough, I will not be telling every detail of our party history. My time is precious, you know, and in any event, history will soon serve as my herald. Until, then I suppose I shall have to bear with new and inattentive people. Pay attention, though, because I will not be repeating myself.

I am a part of... excuse me, ...I LEAD a party of elite mercenaries. No, we do not actually live together, and truth be told I couldn’t stand to be in the company of these hacks for any longer than absolutely necessary. It is a strange arrangement. Each of us actually travels by strange powers to a new mission every time. Our clients vary, as do the settings from which we come and to which we are taken. Honestly, I have yet to recognize a single name or place, mentioned by my companions or our clients. And I certainly wouldn’t be caught doing anything but killing in the places we have been to.

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[Author’s Interjection: Teth-Anne is one of 3 characters I play in a campaign in which GMing responsibilities are passed from player to player. The assumptions behind the campaign are minimal, the characters are mercenaries hired by supernatural means. Where they came from and how they got here is the player’s own business. If a player does not show up for a game, his characters were not called or chose not to answer the mission. The average level at present is about 9.5, and we are using pretty much any WOtC materials with other supplements approved on consensus of players present for the game. Two of my own characters are relatively standard, and one was a designed using house rules.

BTW: I want to thank the EN-World community for some of the advice I received when I first posted the idea about a year ago. I got a lot of good advice, and the campaign has been very helpful in getting some games started in a sparse gaming community. Some of the advice I received for setting this up has been very helpful.]

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Anyway, so let me tell you about my companions. Really, I think it best to think of them as “assistants.” “Tools” would be the most literally apt word to describe them, but I have no wish to be unduly blunt, really, so we will settle on “assistants.” Quite a few have come and gone, by the way, but we are presently about 15 strong, when our full compliment shows up for a mission. At any rate, this is what I have to work with:

There is Lana, a Rogue, and I believe a bit of a Ranger. She is competent, at least when it comes to killing (always an important ability). Her abilities to search out and track down a quarry are unfortunately quite lacking, and we have yet to even try her hand at diplomatic matters. I shudder to think at the day that we may need to rely for our fortune on this woman’s tongue.

And of course, there is Rosch. Rosch is a Warlock, which is a new sort of utility. This one tends to break, unfortunately, at least that’s what he did this last time. Repair work aside, I must say that his abilities come with my highest recommendation. Every party should have one of these around. Not much for killing the big stuff, but they can be used to zap little things away all day. Perfect for a hobbit hunt or comparable mission.

I am forgetting someone, but I’m sure it is of no consequence.

There are, and I shudder to repeat their names. I am told that in some world, their names are a sort of humorous reference, but frankly, I think some parents ought to be hung from their genitals and scrubbed with cactus. There are Chuck (Norris), Hulk (Hogan), and Paul. These miserable creatures are all quite new, and they have yet to distinguish themselves in any respect except for the silliness of their names. ...and perhaps a little bit of gassyness in the case of the Hulky guy. We will have to outfit them better, I think, as they didn’t come with much. The Rogue, Paul, I believe might be useful. I am told he did some interesting things while I was catching up on my beauty sleep. Chuck is of course a Monk, which means he might someday be useful and Hulk is of course a Meat Shield. Whether or not he would be worthy of a Cure Critical Wounds, much less a Raise Dead remains to be seen.

Zardwe is my pride and joy. He really is a most valuable little device, and it is to his credit that I learned the value and the beauty of a fireball spell. He was the first of my assistants to learn the skill, and for that I am most grateful. As I recall, he is capable of some other uses, but I forget them at the moment. Just think of Zardwe as the companion that goes boom. That really is quite enough.

Okay, now let’s all just take a moment to pause and think about the wonders of a fireball spell. ...sizzling flesh, I really am giggling a bit here. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment. Because THAT my friends is what life is all about, you know, the little things. Sizzling, little things, especially.

Anyway, back to the heart of the matter, okay...

Now, there is also Dead Horse, a rather odd looking warrior, He wields a club that looks a bit like the stock of a crossbow and he also carries a dagger. He wears a pathetic bit of armor made from the bones of some glorified cow he keeps talking about. We tried giving him chain mail, but he would have none of it. Anyway, ever since about 4 months ago, Dead Horse has walked backwards virtually everywhere he goes, and he always says the opposite of what he means. He complains of the heat when we are trudging through snow and whines about the cold when we are standing in the middle of the desert. It’s absolutely absurd, I tell you. What this idiot does, I couldn’t tell you. He is just too weird, and I can’t be bothered to think about it right now. Yuck, I’m moving on, okay!

So, then there is Gut Noir, a big hulking Goliath woman. She has a heart of gold, I suppose, or at least I am told, but frankly, that is just the ugliest woman I have ever laid eyes on. She would be writing this journal, except she’s an illiterate fool who came to us from some tribe the full lot of which might barely hope one day be worth the spit necessary to shine a boot. I mean, the girl carries an axe! ...Can you imagine?

Okay, so then there is this other guy, his name is Maddox, and he is a Cleric. The others refer to him as our “real” Cleric, but that is a great disrespect to yours truly. Honestly, Maddox does have his uses, not the least of them being his penchant for healing even the most useless of our party members. I rather like having him around, because it means I can devote myself to more fun stuff, such as Deathknell and whatnot. Anyway, he has his uses.

Then there is Kung Too, a Lizardman with some kind of funky dragon thing going. I understand he likes water. Perhaps, one day he’ll drown. Or was it, that he can’t drown. Anyway, he has scales. I mean nothing says front line fodder like scales. I can only hope he dies usefully, because we have actually been giving a share of our treasures to the oversized gecko.

UGH! I must say, my dear readers, that this is getting to be very depressing. I hadn’t realized just how pathetic my bunch of future minions really is. It might not even be worth the effort it takes to dominate them.

Okay, so there is Saul. He is a fighter, and he is a VERY theatrical fighter. the man is always striking a pose, right in the middle of battle, I tell you. Oh he calls them “stances,” and “flourishes.” But hey, I don’t see any need to mince words. If the boy likes to dance, he likes to dance. Sometimes, I think his timing is a little off, but as long as he kills his share of the enemy, it isn’t really any of my business what side of the toast he butters, now is it. ...You should see him in battle though, honestly, it’s almost cute.

Okay, Recarb. Big Ogre guy and he carries an axe. Things tend to die when they get close to him. Now THIS is what I call a companion. Well, at least he is very useful. I only wish the rest of my assistants would learn from his example. Note to self, get more big axe wielding Ogre guys. They’re cool.

We have a Wizard, his name is Limara. Or is that her name? ...Well, it’s not for me to comment on how someone else dresses, really.

And of course my dear and beloved readers, there is me. Now I can’t tell you everything there is to know about me, and please do try to restrain yourselves. I do NOT need a stalker, really, I don’t. So, at any rate, I am a daughter of Celestial origin. We’re sometimes called Asimars. Love, Kindness, and Goodness - that’s what created me folks. ...Nice of them isn’t it.

Anyway, I am now a devoted servant of Hextor and a practitioner of Sorcery. In recent times, I have taken up the special craft of the Mystic Theurge. I am presently able to cast Fireball and when necessary I can Fix Serious Damage to those that serve my interests. Some would say that I am not very strong, but of course they are looking at my beautiful aristocratic body and not the aforementioned Ogre who counts as my true strength. I have indeed been known to stumble from time to time and I am not very fast when I move, but then again, we have monks and clerics, and elves for that sort of thing. To say that I am beautiful is hardly necessary, and that my dear reader is truly my own character. Whatever else I lack in personal skills, I own in the assistance of those worthy enough to bask in my presence.

Well that’s it for now. I shall come back to the matter of our last mission soon, the one that Zardwe almost botched! For now, my little ones, you mistress of the pen grows tired. You shall have to do with out me for a little bit. Fear not, I shall grace you again with my presence just as soon as it pleases me.

Oh, and, as you read this document, please understand, my spelling and grammar are both perfect. Any flaws which you may think you see in these areas, or in my writing style, must in fact be viewed as clear and convincing evidence that your own schooling is woefully incomplete. I don’t mind, really, but please keep any notions you may have on the matter to yourself and don’t trouble me with them. I am NOT your tutor! Praise is of course aceptable.

The moaning turned out to be zombies, a whole lot of them. They shambled towards us in that perfectly pathetic manner of people without the good sense to stay dead. How an entire woodland could be filled with such bad taste was beyond me, but it might have been linked to all the dead trees. Stil, there they were shambling up and swiming at our flankers with those big rotting fists. With the rest of my party beginning to engage the filthy little walking fly hatcheries, there was only one thing for me to do...

...and that was of course to pause for a moment of reflection on the days events. Yep, right in the middle of battle, I indulged in a flashback. Or at least, I made a note to begin a flashabck segment right about there, just for you good peopel. (See my darling readers, I was thinking of you even as my friends faced danger all around me. I just said to myself they will have to wait until I'm done composing the outline of my next journal entry. My fans always come first. You love me, don't you?)

Well anyway, so how did we get to such a spot. Well it was the usual bit for us. Everyone teleported in to some strange location, none of us quite sure what to expect. Turned out, we were there to meet an old fart. (They are always old; you should have seen the orc that hired us that one time). Old and pathetic, but anyway, he directed us to still another teleportation device, and then we ended up at our real starting point for the adventure.

Why do they do that I wonder? take us to some silly location just to explain to us that we have to give the magic merry-go-round another spin. It's just bizarre, you know. Magic has an economy, and I really do think some of our clients need to read up a bit on the matter. For the price of the extra teleport, they could PAY US MUCH BETTER! At any rate, it is always fun to see an Ogre getting ready for this sort of thing. They wince and the cringe, and they click, (and sometimes they make a funny smell) when they are getting ready for big magic like this. It's absolutely hilarious. My favorite thing is to go 'oops,' just before the spell goes off. LOL, gets the hag barbarian lady too. I swear she is going to pee her pants one day, ...she does wear pants too, so she deserves to be embarrassed.

Anyway, so we ended up at this keep. We'd been hired by these guys before (to fight off an undead army), but they wanted us back to go do something even more fabulous. But I really must say, the lord of the manner is NOT taking care of himself these days. Ghosts or not, there is just no excuse for letting yourself go like that. Hoenstly, I can't even describe it; that man has got to invest in a good facial poultice.

Well, I could bore you with our adventures for the evening in that keep. We had a funny little encounter with some ugly flying faces that made creepy noises and scared all the guards. There was a rediculous little bit about keeping us from seeing in the tower, as if a skeloton or 3 in the closet wouldn't improve my regard for these yokels. And of course the nervous nellies in our own group spent the whole evening trying to figure out why the gallows had been used within the last couple days. Well it wasn't one of us, I tell you, and that is the end of gallows story as far as I'm concerned. I mean, the guy was paying us (sooner of later, anyway. There was mention of a really cool hammer), so what do we care if he hangs murderers and thieves or half the local peasants. NOT AN ISSUE folks. Get over yourselves, sheesh!

...sorry about that, friends, in this company I just get so bored. You know how all the prattle goes. "The blood is fresh." "There are claw marks." "The Temple has new Evocation magic on it." "How come you don't stand a night watch, Teth, everyone else does?" (Yawn!) Pity me, people. Mine is a sad lot.

Okay, so anyway, what did the aging addle-brain of a local lord - possible murdering his own peasants - want? He said he wanted Mandrake Root for some kind of witches beer thingy. I don't know, really, but I have to say the old creepy guy was almost showing a little personality with that request. Some might have been concerned that a Paladin-type follower of Saint Cuthbert would be interested in anything witchy, but hey, who he courts and how he loosens her knickers is his business. I Just figure we do the job and we get paid. No need to complicate matters by snooping about thesecret backyard burial, that's the way I feel about it.

So, anyway, we head out for the forest where all the mandrake root is supposed to be, and things start to get a little silly. First off, the evil ambush was at least 2 full days late. I'm telling you, the villains in this place are getting just plain lazy, and it's messing with my schedule. So, we're like snooping around the place and asking who in the party knows what a mandrake root looks like. And I say, I haven't the faintest, you know, because I would just buy the stuff. I don't go digging through the dirt for my components, there are people to take care of that, you know.

I mean Hello-oo!?!

So, of course Dead Horse comes up and he says "I do not know anything about it." And like Zarwdie says; "really, that's too bad" or something like that. Snaps to Zawrdwie, he is such a card, but really Dead Horse went on to explain that the root isn't dark red or maroon in colour and we won't need any more than a foot of it for effective spell components and stuff like that. And Zardwie, says, like "okay." And I amost died laughing. Was it Zardwie? I dunno, but somebody was playing a great straight man, and all Dead Horse could do was say how much he enjoyed all our company and that's when I tell you I absolutely busted a stitch. It was just too much. So, anyway, we started looking for this stuff and we couldn't find ANY of it, even with Dead Horse telling us where not to look.

Did I mention, Dead Horse always says the opposite of what he means?

Anyway...

So, we thought we knew what we were looking for, but we couldn't find it. And then we smelled smoke for a little while, but that went away, and we saw some tracks and Dead Horse was telling us that they weren't kobald tracks, and we decided to try and follow them, and it was just a crazy old time. You know how it is. And then all of a sudden Dead Horse just goes right up to a tree and says "goodbye" to it. Like, now he's talking to trees and stuff? I mean, we're all getting tired of this whole contrarian thing he's doing, but, I mean, talking to the scenery is just a step down in the mental casualty list as far as I am concerned. I was thinking about zapping the rediculous person out of his misery, and out of my life, for a moment there.

Well sure enough, the tree turned out to be a kobald, ...or at least there was a tree hiding a kobald. ...I mean, the kobald was hiding in the tree or something like that. Only it wasn't really a kobald, it was an Ogre. It took out this little axe which turned out to be really big after all, and then it started attacking Dead Horse. So, like, somebody was playing around with the funky magic or something, but we just killed the darn thing.

Well, we maimed it. And then I cured it, just to be nice and stuff, and I tried to talk to it. But of course I had to kind of, well hurt it, a little, just to make sure it understood the etiquette appropriate to the situation (which was of course to tell me everything I wanted to know). And then it attacked me, and then, like, we just killed it, which is perfectly appropriate. I mean the darn thing tried to mess up my perfectly shaped nose. He had to die. For even thinking about that, he had to die. If I ever come back here, I am tracking down that thing's family, so they can die too.

Dead Horse was a little unhappy that his bow string had blood on it, but I didn't really feel like explaining just how it had been used.

Okay, so then we moved on a bit, and I think we slept another night. At least I did. Others had to stand watch. And then that morning as we were walking along, someone noticed this invisible person moving along ahead of us. Zardwie noticed it first, and then I cast a special spell that let's me find sneaky people. And we just weren't sure what to do. It was this really creepy person, you know, and we weren't really sure what to do, because it was out of range of the fighters. We figured it would probably survive a spell or two and then run away, so we just kep thinking about it as we walked.

Then all the moaning starts, and the zombies show up and start to dribble little crawly creatures all over the ground and what not. The Cleric managed to turn a few of them, and a couple fighters gave 'em a wack or three. Dead Horse chargd up and laid out a couple of them. Then a bunch closed in around him, and of course they started beating the Dead Horse. (...well they did.) I could see a big old cluster of the rotten ex-people, and I just thought that would be the best place to place a fireball, you know.

***

...Okay, let's all just take a moment of time to think about the peasures of the fireball. I mean, sometimes, people you just have to stop and smell the sulfer, you know, because that's what makes life worth living. You get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of the day folks, and sometimes you just forget the simple pleasures of life. Simple pleasures like the smell of your enemies burning. I mean, maybe it's enough to help you win the battle, and maybe it's not, but if you can't just take a moment to take in the experience, then what is the fun of living? Killing an enemy (or demolishing an already dead one in this case) isn't so much a destination as it is a sort of holliday trip. You shouldn't get so caught up in the goal that you forget to experience the process, you know. ...ah fireball.

***

Okay, so I picked this great spot out for the fireball, you know, because I really love to help out the brave fighters on the front line and everything. But when the time came, well I did the right thing folks. I fireballed the invisible creepy person up ahead of us. In fact, I burnt some special funky options and fireballed the little creep twice, once with a special wallop. I tell you it was a sheer joy, just to do that to a person, you know. ...I mean, just to, you know. ...Excellence is it's own reward, and those were excellent spells. That's all I'm saying. We weren't real sure if that person was an enemy or not, but as they say, "guilty until proven innocent." Some people might think that was some trite little maxim, but I take that principle to heart folks. I live by that, really I do.

So this elven lady pops out of the fireball and and drops on the ground and starts crying, you know, "why did you do that?" "Oh please don't hurt me, please don't do it again, I beg you," you know the drill. That and Zardwie starts getting pissy with me. really, he was doing that forceful whisper things (because he was all sneaky-creepy and invisible too), and he was shout-whsipering stuff like, "Teth, let me take care of it," and stuff. Him take care of it? AS IF! Okay, so with a pissy little Zardwie and a whiny little elven lady, I thought I'd just give them a break for a minute and help my friend Dead Horse out, because he was surrounded by zombies and stuff.

There was a big fight going on next to us. Someone tossed up a wall of fire, and the fighter type thingies in the front of our party worked just like they are supposed to and the icky non-people were getting splatterd all over the place. So, when it got down to the last few, all up in front and surrounding the crazy guy. I cut loose with one more fireball. It kinda hit Dead Horse, and he probably would have been fine without the help, but you know, it just ...I mean I shouldn't have to wait! Should I?

Should I?

Okay, so I get the Horsy-guy all up in my face and saying "brrrr," and telling me how pleased he was that I did that. And for just a minute, you know, I was going to play a Zardwie and just say 'your welcome,' and see what happens. But the thing about the Horsey guy is that his weapons aren't anywhere near as ironic as his mouth. So, I figured I better cure him, and like, kind of, apologize.

Yes, that's right people. I actually apologized to one of my assistants. I did. Yep that's right. I know that's not expected, and honestly, I was speaking to someone well below my station, but sometimes, ...sometimes, my friends. Sometimes, it takes a bigger heart to just go ahead and admit your faults.

And that is the problem. Dead Horse just doesn't have that kind of heart. He wasn't anywhere near big enough to admit that he should not have been standing there where I was going to place my favorite spell, you know, and I just knew it was going to be a real problem, So I decided to let him off the hook, and I apologized in his place. I just told him I was sorry he felt that way and I gave him a little cure. And he said that he was still happy about the whole thing, but that my cure wasn't enough to make it better. So, like everything was fine, you know.

I couldn't let Zardwie deal with the creepy elven lady all by himself. Who knows, he might have let her guide us into a trap or something. So, I turned my attention to the front of the party and headed right on up there. And THAT, lovers, that is where things started to get interesting.

Walking through the entry into the copse of trees, I could see that there was a great deal more space inside than one would have expected from the outside view. I could also begin to hear things that were happening inside a little better, and I lost track of the voices of the dozen party members still behind me.

Most of all, I was curious as to why the cute little elven foresty lady had just spoken a demonic language. And I was furious with Zardwie for stopping me from killing her in the first place. Oh sure, I was the one who agreed to go with her, but I wouldn't even have been talking to the peevish little woman in the first place had he not asked me to be "sensible" about the matter. Well anyway, we talked and she seemed a little suspicious, but she said we could get mandrake root if we went with her, and I just thought, hey, why not?

Of course she meant to be lying, but she wasn't.

So, as I'm following this woman along, and I'm thinking ...well frankly people, I was just thinking, a dress like that just doesn't belong on someone with fey hips. And with pointy ears, you just GOTTA do something different with your hair. I mean, some people don't like to judge on appearances and everything, but I'm just not that superficial, you know. If the woman is going to broadcast her poor taste for all to see, I for one am not going to pretend I can't see the tacky soul shining through the fashion faux pas. You know what I am talking about. Don't even pretend you don't!

So, anyway, I am thinking there has got to be something wrong with this girl and maybe I should just zap her again, but No-o-o-o-o, Zardwie wouldn't approve. Zardwie wants to talk to people; he wants to find out what they want... Zardwie can kiss my happy hollow next time we get in a pinch, ...see if I cure him when little miss ugly boots turns out to be a bad guy.

Well anyway, we get in the copse of trees, and sure enough the little muffin turns out to have the voice of a sick dock worker, and she turns around and says;

"You're just in time for dinner."

Okay, and there was like no mistaking it this time. Her boots DEFINITELY didn't match her dress. Besides, if she's going to do a stand-up routine prior to killing us, then the least she could do is gargle a bit beforehand so we can understand her. That and she could start with someone boring, like the Lizard-man. (He sheds scales ...ick!) But no, it wasn't to be someone else. That woman laid her eyes right on me, and she was not smiling. Like you know, maybe I'd done something to her in a past life or something.

...or maybe just about half an hour ago.

"Oh did I walk into a trap? I am SO disappointed in you, honey." (That was me. You can tell my banter, because it's actually clever.)

She said something else, but honestly who cares. It would just bore you to repeat the words of little miss faerie fey here.

Anyway, we started to fight. She tried touching me or something like that, and I knew it was an attack, but I resisted her whatever-kinda-pathetic-attack-thingy. And there was someone in there with me who tried to hit her, and then a whole bunch of flying, screaming, faces with bat wings flew into the copse and started attacking. I backed up and tried a touch attack, you know Ray of Enfeeblement, but I missed.

...Okay, I know, you're thinking, why would I try attacking the strength of an obvious spell-caster enemy right? Well it's this thing called "style," honey. Anybody can do that to a Giant or something, but when you make the A-list, you learn a thing or two about combat-chic. See, I figured if I could just knock the little elven-wannabe down to, like NO strength left, then she's gonna have a rough time carrying her own weight around that miserable excuse for a home of hers. (Don't even get me started on the interior decoration - woodland mystique went out years ago, lover.)

So, anyway, new problem. Little Miss Rural turns out to have a spell resistance. And I'm not saying, I couldn't beat that resistance; I am definitely NOT saying that. I'm just saying, I thought maybe my efforts would be better spent elsewhere. So, I fireballed the flying face thingies and a whole bunch of them died. Zardwie would probably say that I only killed four of them, but Zardwie and people who listen to Zardwie are what's wrong with the world today. Okay? So, I got a whole lot of them, let's just leave it at that.

And then I hear Dead Horse shouting almost like he's a mile away, but he's like RIGHT in the doorway. And he's shouting that we aren't being ambushed or some stupid thing like that. Okay, I might have forgotten for a moment how he talks, but anyway. A Big troll comes out of a corner of the trees and one of our spell casters sends in this demon-pig and it attacks the ugly boot wearing not-really-an-elf lady.

And then someone hit her, HARD, and wouldn't you know it, beneath the beautiful elven exterior, the woman was an ugly old hag. I mean, I have NEVER seen skin so bad as hers. She must have been like a worker or something when she was done, because let me tell you women of station do NOT get like that honey. No way, uh-uh! Honestly, I have no idea what she or the other 2 really were (yes there is another one coming up), but in my book, they are just a bunch of old hags. I can't help it if that sounds mean. I didn't ask them to be so ugly, now did I?

So, then a big old fog comes up, and then she turns invisible (but I could still see her - because I'm cool, that's why), and I fireballed her and a few more flying faces. Really, I just wanted the wing-faced creeps to shut up - they made such an awful sound. (Flying Face mommies should really raise their kids better, let me tell you.) And here is where I was like so awesome, you know, because even though the old lady was invisible, and even though she had been in the fog, and even though she had a magic resistance, ...I nailed her. And not only did I nail her with the fireball, I outright knocked her out.

Am I fabulous or what?

Okay, so then there is this invisible troll, and another troll heals her, and by now a bunch of my assistants have filed in and they're all fighting. I was going to coup that Gracie-lady goodnight, right then and there you know, when suddenly there was an invisible wall in the way. I tried to go around, but that didn't work. It was like I had my own holding cell, right there in the middle of the battle, and there wasn't ANYTHING I could do about it. I had to watch while the ugly old hag woke up and started to do stuff again. By now there were 2 trolls and they were fighting a whole bunch of us, and all I could do was point at the invisible lady with the bad fashion sense and try to get people's attention. They actually had to finish the whole battle without me.

Heh..., Zardwie? One of those flying face thingies flew by him and he just froze in place. He did nothing after that, just stood there looking stoopid. It was hilarious. I mean, to be completely taken out of the battle like that. What a dunce!

Okay, so, I wasn't doing anything at that point, and I know you don't want to hear about what the other idiots were doing, so let's just say we won the battle, okay? All three of the old wrinkle bags got sent to their merry torment, and there I am still stuck in a cage. There really wasn't anything to do except go to sleep. They were all running around this way and that way and I just rolled up my cloak into a pillow and went to sleep. I figured, What-ever!

I did deposit something gross on the force wall just in front of Zardwie, because he couldn't look away or close his eyes and I knew he was bored. ...I'm thoughtful like that, you know.

Well, I don't know how they did it, but all the other people managed to search the copse without me. They found all the mandrake root a prematurely ageing noble in a swiss cheese castle could possible want, and they even managed to get Zardwie back to normal (for him anyway). We couldn't help the last guy, Rosch, and apparently he was going to die by morning ...which some people find objectionable, you know. So, the Ogre and the Lizardman and the Rogue lady all took off and did this forced march thing back to the lord's castle to get a cure disease. It was like an epic struggle to beat the sunrise, you know, real dramatic and Yawn!) ..okay, so enough about other people. The next morning, the new Wizard pops into my private little cage and pops me back out, just in time too, because I was starting to get real stressed. I excused myself and made off to a corner as quickly as I could. It is NOT easy holding it that long, let me tell you, and I certainly didn't want to stink up my cell.So, I blessed the ground right there in that copse, let me tell you, and I'm thinking it was enough to start a garden. Then I went and found my rations which I made the Barbarian lady carry for me. I told her next time, she should make sure she is put in the cage too, because I do NOT like to go that long without eating. Honestly, some people are so thoughtless.

And then, like, we all went back to the castle, where I sat down and jotted this little story out for you my dear little sweethearts. Okay, so, I'm going to bed now. I've been sleeping all day, and that makes me tired.

Wingy liitle bint!

Oh it's my servant, you know how the help can be. First she misplaces my favorite make-up and then she balls like a helpless little girl when I take away her food. I mean how much can a 12 year old girl need to eat anyway? Honestly, I am surrounded by selfish people. And I am sooo tired of it.

Anyway, I am trying to get ready for another mission, and the gateway to the next world and our mission is just taking a little longer than usual to open up. So, my darlings, I thought of you. Aren't you glad?

Well anyway, I have no idea what the other people do before a mission, but I always like to eat a nice meal, a little garden greens, followed by roast pheasant is always good, preferrably with a side of fresh vegetables, all followed by some kind of tart, and washed down with the very best of wines. I only eat a little off of each entré of course, because one doesn't want to go into battle on too full a stomach. But, you know, just enough. I always dress nicely, because it's all about the style thing, you know. And I wash and brush my hair. You nenver know how long your going to be stuck in the some stink hole of a dungeon, so it's important to at least start with a little class. (Which is precisely why that little muppet makes me so damn angry today. I mean I'll feed her when I get back, but if she can't help me when I am about to put my life on the line for the gold that pays for her porridge, I tell you! OH! Sometimes! Anyway, I hope my servants understand how fortunate they are to have been purchased by someone of my stature. A less thoughtful mistress would turn them all out into the street. If they can't show more appreciation...)

Sorry dears, I really must concentrate on better things. Some new mission is imminant, I just got the message yesterday, and I can't wait to get started. Another hobbit hunt would be just the thign after dealing with those fat hags in the last outing, and what was with Mr. white-hair-and-I'm-only-20-somethign!?! I mean, ...ICK! Or maybe we will kill more lizardnmen or bat creatures. It's always fun to stomp some orcs. The best was when we got to blow an army of missionaries to smithereens on its way to preach the good word at some yokels who hired us. I do hope we don't meet that horid Lolth lady again, what would she want with us anyway. And honestly, I mean, you would think that a deity would know how to accesserize. I mean, some sort of divine power or something, your know "Perfect Ensemble (EX)," or something like that. And besides, a bad hair day is supposed to be just that, you know, a bad hair DAY. ...not like for this whole incarnation or something. Euuuw!

These berries are marvelous! You know I hear they actually eat the crust in other parts of the world. Here, the way they cook it it's just too hard to cut a fork into, but I wonder if they add sugar or some other rare spices to the flour when they plan to eat the shell. Oh well, the berries are PERFECT. I will have to reward the cook, perhaps a little extra wood for his stove, or maybe I could just give him back his blanket. I don't know, but sometimes you just have to let people know you care.

So, here I am just staring at the wall, waiting for it to shimmer the way it always does. Oh wait, talk to you later my lovers. I'm off to kill the Wizard!

Cryptic much?

Okay, so this really creepy guy with an ugly scar (He's missing one hand and one eye) shows up and tells me I should prepare new spells to "go against green." Go against green? What on earth is THAT supposed to mean!?! What does he think, I'm like a Wizard or something? Hello!?! I don't memerize anything on that side, not that I have any special pallet effects in my bag of tricks. I'm a Sorcerer, I mean come on! I work with a limited pallaet here buddy.

So, I keep thinking about my Divine spells, and I just don't have any Anti-Green Gimmik, or Exfoliation Ball, Mordenkagent's Orange or anything like that. What does he think, he was talking to some kind of spell-casting lumber-Jill? I mean, Hello?

Well, I put on a red scarf, because it clashes with green, and now I'm sitting here ready for the battle.

Some people!