Journal of W. E. Tupper, Day 122

[A two-page spread is taken up with what looks like the aftermath of a particularly messy torture session with the letter O, whose armpit is now being molested by a hunchback Aztec temple.]


Day 122
The morning met us with horrible hook-handed creatures that clicked at us. This may not be a fair assessment of them, truth be told: they might be very dashing to other hook-handed creatures. Outside of a self-induced indentation on my forehead, no injuries of note.

We came across a huge underground lake, incredibly beautiful. Included a sketch of it to give you an idea of what it was like, spellbook: I spent most of the day drawing it while on the ferry boat.

The city on the other side is almost completely devoid of signs with Commonspeak, which I guess is to be expected in foreign realms. The inn we stayed at had a cog in the sign and served a slab-like dish that tasted like steak. Lestrum says it's commonly grown in these parts. While I'm sure that plenty of druids would (and likely do) cheer the idea of saving cows through farming, I am slightly less enthusiastic. Fortunately, I only have to eat here another day or so.

Of course, today was going far too peacefully to be a day in my life. So Jake went out and purchased a book on demon summoning, then brought it back to the inn hoping that the small army of paladins he travels with wouldn't notice or care that much. After we all knightslapped that idea down and chewed him out for Possession of Malicious Tome(s), he won't be doing something quite that stupid again anytime soon. (At least I hope so. Going to keep a serious watch on Jacob from here on in.) We eventually agreed to destroy the book once we were on the outskirts of town, in case its destruction led to the release of yet another horrifying evil upon the world.

I may make a point of not reading over my entries more than once, lest I be struck by how insane my life has become.