Journal of Arcadius

(hastily scrawled note)

Curses upon Walter-Tup'r!

Here we are on this barren island, having just fought a pack of hellish creatures from the planes beyond, half the party teleported away to fetch healing magic, currently being slowly pursued by an evil supernatural mist...

And WHAT does this miserable wretched excuse for a man see as his highest priority at the moment?

Mending his underwear.

Azan threatened the wretch and threw his spear at him as a warning.

I am so tempted...

I...

I must focus my thoughts.

May Pelor give me strength and patience to forgive.

For it is much needed at this time.

*A*