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.