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I thought I'd start a journal.
Yes, a journal. Oh look at me! I'm writing in a book my deepest most personal thoughts, fuck, doesn't that just make me masculine and heroic?
Fuck no.
I feel like such a ditzy teat. I may as well have teats for writing in this. Oh well, when I'm old and senile.. I'll read this, and laugh. Or cry. Depending on how my life turns out. Hells, might be this is an act of optimism since I seem to think I'm gonna grow old enough to read this and be senile about it.
Anyway. Current Stuff.
Let's see Mr. Pretentious Journal, what have I done that's pretty nifty since arriving in this backwoods shithole?
I killed goblins. And gnolls. And an ogre or two. And... I got fleas, and ticks in the process. And a mystery rash, oh boy! Who'da thunk carrying a sack of severred ears from the filthiest creatures alive could have unhealthy repercussions?
What else... Oh! I think the two men I'll refer to as the Brothers Bane, have decided to invite me to prayer. About Bane. They made a pretty good case. And considering where I'm at now...
Some friends, some very powerful "Don't pull our nipples or we'll smite thee" friends seems like a good thing to have.
Why?
Well... My everpresent companion joined this lovely little group dubbed "Nature's Wrath" And what did I do? I followed her. Huzzah for adle-titted loyalty. I'm probably going to die from this. I'm not even that faithful to Talos.. Or any other god for that matter. Sure I pay lipservice and offer a prayer when in trouble but eh... I have excuses, and justification. None of 'em have really... Lit me up so to speak, with faith.
Anywho... I need to see how this Wrath thing goes because the minute things go south... I'm gonna disapear quicker than a Sunite's pube.
Oh! I could go to the Enclave, being of mulan birth and of course a native of Thay, but.... There's a reason I left Thay. Being a veritable nobody, without a copper to your name is sort of eh... Bad. Like poor understatements and ambiguous metaphors.
So.. That's the current events, in a nutshell.
Excluding one tiny tidbit.
There's some crazy bastard calling himself a samurai. Of Bahamut. A dragon god. And I'm pretty sure he's not from Kara Tur.
That struck me as odd.
Seems he's likely crazier than Cyric's third testicle on a bad day.
Oh, before I forget. I need some closure to this fine entry.
So.
Dear Journal.
Fuck you for making me feel like a sad tosser.
Sincerely,
The now emasculated Khasef.
Yes, a journal. Oh look at me! I'm writing in a book my deepest most personal thoughts, fuck, doesn't that just make me masculine and heroic?
Fuck no.
I feel like such a ditzy teat. I may as well have teats for writing in this. Oh well, when I'm old and senile.. I'll read this, and laugh. Or cry. Depending on how my life turns out. Hells, might be this is an act of optimism since I seem to think I'm gonna grow old enough to read this and be senile about it.
Anyway. Current Stuff.
Let's see Mr. Pretentious Journal, what have I done that's pretty nifty since arriving in this backwoods shithole?
I killed goblins. And gnolls. And an ogre or two. And... I got fleas, and ticks in the process. And a mystery rash, oh boy! Who'da thunk carrying a sack of severred ears from the filthiest creatures alive could have unhealthy repercussions?
What else... Oh! I think the two men I'll refer to as the Brothers Bane, have decided to invite me to prayer. About Bane. They made a pretty good case. And considering where I'm at now...
Some friends, some very powerful "Don't pull our nipples or we'll smite thee" friends seems like a good thing to have.
Why?
Well... My everpresent companion joined this lovely little group dubbed "Nature's Wrath" And what did I do? I followed her. Huzzah for adle-titted loyalty. I'm probably going to die from this. I'm not even that faithful to Talos.. Or any other god for that matter. Sure I pay lipservice and offer a prayer when in trouble but eh... I have excuses, and justification. None of 'em have really... Lit me up so to speak, with faith.
Anywho... I need to see how this Wrath thing goes because the minute things go south... I'm gonna disapear quicker than a Sunite's pube.
Oh! I could go to the Enclave, being of mulan birth and of course a native of Thay, but.... There's a reason I left Thay. Being a veritable nobody, without a copper to your name is sort of eh... Bad. Like poor understatements and ambiguous metaphors.
So.. That's the current events, in a nutshell.
Excluding one tiny tidbit.
There's some crazy bastard calling himself a samurai. Of Bahamut. A dragon god. And I'm pretty sure he's not from Kara Tur.
That struck me as odd.
Seems he's likely crazier than Cyric's third testicle on a bad day.
Oh, before I forget. I need some closure to this fine entry.
So.
Dear Journal.
Fuck you for making me feel like a sad tosser.
Sincerely,
The now emasculated Khasef.