Tupper's Notes and Observations for Day 261

Steinbjorn, Valldis, Hrogar & Dantro have teleported to Izmir for supplies; also Dantro is now a lemming, though may be restored by tonight.

Prisoner from the Keep had his throat slit, likely because of an invisible intruder in the camp last night. Azan said prayers over the body.

Water around camp is boiling, steam is moving up & towards us. Arkadesh figures we should take a zigzag path across the island away from it.

Azan reckons the steam monster to be evil, & lets Stuchka ride on his shoulder so as to watch its slow approach. Small fungus clouds abound.

Attempts to repair a garment vital to comfortable & safe travel are met with scorn, mockery, blows to the head, bodily threats. Nothing new.

The fact is, when faced with a strange & terrifying monster, my first reaction was to seek to mend my damn underpants. That's not cowardice.

Now if I had asked if anyone could clean my underwear, that'd be a different matter. Mayhap that's what they thought I meant? I'll ask Azan.

Azan is not interested in discourse about my undergarments, & while I can't blame him for that, I can blame him for my fresh new head wound.

Stuhcka has written something down over several sheets, & giggles whenever I make to catch a glimpse of it. I have a bad feeling about this.

This damn island has begun to get to me. Why?! Why a gaseous monster? Why would they slay an ally? And why do I not expect any real answers?

Underwear finally wrenched free of its moorings, forcing me to adopt a slight waddle into my strides. Odds of death by Azan approach parity.

Stuckhah is giggling unprovoked now. She would've learned her lesson from the Ballad, wouldn't she? She did learn a lesson from that, right?

I am going to be Tupper the cowardly ghost-fucking panty-wearing Chosen King of All Idiots by the time I get back to civilization, aren't I.

Where the bloody hells of puke and smells are the others? They should've returned hours ago. How long does it take to buy a couple of wands?