Things could be worse.  They can always get worse.  After our long journey, the trip has only gotten longer.  We are now well off the map, now, and I begin to wonder whether that bodes well for us or not.  Our group has been joined by three new people, two drow and a thoroughly strange gentleman in a white coat.  I have not paid much attention to them as of yet, although one of them is quite deluded as to the station of a woman in society – she seems to think herself the property of her father and later whoever she marries.  Idiot.  I hope she realizes the error of her belief.

 We have also been told that we’re to fight a dragon; a white one if my hypothesis is correct.  Hopefully we will survive such an encounter.  If we do, I am certain it will be a fascinating and enriching experience.

I have found many interesting things in the lair of the white dragon we slew recently.  I have spent much time examining them.  We plan to leave this place and continue our god-given quests shortly.

I have been ill of late, a rather inconvenient case of a sore throat or some such.  It has affected my ability to speak – I hope that it does not rob me of the ability entirely.  That would make my line of work a touch difficult.

I am no longer able to speak louder than a whisper without it feeling like I am shouting.  The illness I suffered must have caused this.  I wonder if the illness might have had something to do with the chemical blast I was hit with by the dim-witted gentleman among us or the cone of cold cast by the white dragon we slew.  The fact that I cannot speak in a voice higher than a whisper, however, does not seem to have impeded my spell casting at all.

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