So this is called a ship’s log I guess. The earlier pages should prove interesting when there’s better light…and more headspace.
Physically, I am…fine. After a fashion. The ship goes up and down, and the moons are obscured by clouds, but the breeze is refreshing for once, not bone-chilling. Clothes help, I’m sure.
Heiron is patrolling the far end of the deck. I see him as he passes in and out of the light of the torch, avoiding the hastily thrown up pile of dead bodies.
The light isn’t the greatest, but I need to clear my head. And for that, I need to start at the beginning:
We had dinner with that wizard type in the back room of the Welcome Wench. I think his name us Bondril Lastindin, but Lydia says that’s not quite right.
Keom and Ronhass couldn’t come, since the dragons were being fussy or something and wouldn’t take their naps, but all things considered I think we’re all very glad they weren’t there.
I can barely remember the food, though Raven remarked how amazing it was. I do remember the man smoked a pipe…and the room was covered with these horrible, smelly candles…like my subconscious needling me with the weight of my failures until it’s all I can remember.
This Lastindin or whatever his name was said he was very interested in our exploration of the Temple…specifically our discovery of the prince of Furiundy. He kept asking about that, coming back to how such a great warrior could be kidnapped from his very palace…
And now, in hindsight — I hope Lydia got a good look at him, because I think we’ll want to find him when this is all over. If he’s in the business of drugging and kidnapping powerful and important or otherwise interesting people, that’s a business I want to close.
Suffice to say, when I woke up, it was dark…and I couldn’t move my arms – or legs. The wooden walls were so close even I couldn’t roll over, and it sounds like the others fared worse.