"we see a large ooze off in the distance, It cant possibly kill all of us" the rest of the journal was found with blood stains and a strange blue liquid

"We've defeated the giant, and we've decided to venture into the crypt on the morrow once I've regained my healing powers with the rising of the sun."

This journal, its author, the party, and everything within 15 miles was vaporized shortly thereafter.

"Insane party last night. The ale was not too great, but the wenches-- Aw, the WENCHES, maaaaaaan!"

Dear journal, today we met a city of mind flayers! They seem very friendly, if a tad distant, and are very insistent on having us stay for dinner.

Entire party turned to stone by Basilisks. I slew the lizards, and then their Medusa handlers.

I AM A GODDAMN WAR HERO.

You find a withered corpse clutching a journal in the ruins of an abandoned pup.

"I met a nice bunch of folks in the local tavern. They plan to raid a nearby dungeon and I decided I wanted in on it."

That was the only entry. It is dated six months ago...

"I am so fucking tired of being the Inquisition's bitch. I'm calling my Magos with our next port of call. This is SUCH BULLSHIT."

Thorbald Woodshield's Journal
Entry for September 13, year 1255 of our Lord Grimstorm.

"WHAT THE F*CK DID I DRINK LAST NIGHT?! THAT WAS NO REGULAR BEER, I DON'T THINK IT WAS EVEN MEANT TO BE DRUNK! IMMA KILL THAT LITTLE HALFLING BARKEEP!

AND WHO IN THE NAME OF F*CK IS THAT BEARDED DWARF SLEEPING NEXT TO ME?! AND WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY IS HE NAKED?!"

"Pub burned down by undead. Found morons responsible, making them fix the problem."

In a world of darkness game (hunter) I once found a journal that belonged to some ancient, legendary monster hunter.

As it turned out, when I started writing in it, responses wrote themselves overnight, and I had a two-way communique with another hunter.

>>14650654
>>14650723
/tg/ needs more heroes like these!

"The other explorers are kind of fucked up. I mean, they're cool and all, but they're kind of fucked up.

I'm not one to get my panties in a bunch over moral stuff, but they were puppeting a corpse with a combination of their funky magic and having it walk around telling the other Mites that everything was fine. Hasn't anybody heard of respect for the dead?"

>>14650744
Didn't this happen in Harry Potter?

>>14650603
>modern fantasy setting
>my character is a dangerously charismatic closet otaku.

The squirt sent us out for more combat "training". Her and the rest of the girls hate it when I call it level grinding. But come on, that's what it feels like to me.

The roar has come back, I think the more frequent use of my powers is awakening something inside of me. I even manifested wings of fire and did some crazy shit. Eh, not like it matters much.

I hear the convince store down the street is having a sale on overstock Canadian import beer tomorrow. That'll be fun.

>>14650772
> Obvious rip-off is obvious.

"It's been three weeks since my last entry. I've been following a group of... 'adventurers'. They are in truth murderers, but who am I to judge? We'll be landing in port in a few hours and I fear for my safety. I have walked the spirit world and have dueled the denziens that dwell there, but these human cities... I will never understand them. Such huge places, filled with the dying, the oppressed and the rich. I will be amongst them, an outsider and a monster to them. May the moon guide my feet for I enter an unholy place."

-Grerr Spirit Walker, gnoll Sorceror/Blood Magus

>Work order logged (retrieve mills property: assembly line limbs)
>Pathing now
>Pathing complete to Aerodrome warehouse (0.15% margin of error)
>Commence retrieval of mills property
>End of line

I love Engineheart.

Dear Diary,

Today, I did a few things I'm not too proud of. But hey, on the bright side Bub got to eat and we got one step closer to the high life! Give it another couple'a years and we'll be livin' high and wide in them upper hives! 'Fore that, we gotta find Carther though. I really hope he's alright alone out there, what with him bein' unsanctioned. If the three of us knuckleheads don't stick together, then what's the point of living the high life, right?

-Zeke

They decided to burn the woods... A foolish mistake... As I bore witness to the screams only I could hear, my anger grew inside me. I rent their limbs from their bodies with my hammer and my bears feasted upon their flesh. The Great Earth Mother suffered today and I paid that suffering back in kind.

chilymen logic

The medic crushed my legs, then threw me off the wall.. That wasn't very nice of him. I think he's mad at me for some reason.

Dear Diary,

>You're the DM and can't remember the last character I played.

"The half-elf's true blood is showing. I stay my hand only knowing my own heritage and the fact that resistance is possible. The paladin's hypocrisy and overall. . .incompetence at anything other than fighting continues to bewilder, and his continued divine favor is a mystery of the gods. Webley Saxon continues to lay everything with a slit between its legs. I do not like this noble we've been hired to escort, but he comes off clean."

Dear diary.
Oh god my leg! That tree was a bad idea! I shouldn't have volunteered for lookout! Why, god, why!?!

>>14650866

I pray someone links that in the archive before this is over.

--Log of High Enginseer Thraxius, Entry #7239--

Trader Cortez seems quite intent on trying my patience to its absolute limits, and I am quite a patient man indeed. That thrice-accursed Kroot of his skulks around the ship without any thought for protocol or restricted areas. He is nigh undetectable when he wants to be, and against all rational sense I've found myself becoming increasingly paranoid as of late.

If the disgusting wretch dares to come within fifty meters of my private laboratorium or place his filthy talons on any device whose spirit basks in the radiance of our glorious Omnissiah, I will have no qualms about thoroughly ventilating his chest cavity and jettisoning his putrescent corpse into the Void.

And if it is listening to me right now, he can most certainly take that as a threat.

--End Log--

>>14650900
you mean this?

>D&D Character: Dwarven Druid

Ragnar StakeBeard's Journal, Entry 3

That fat sorcerer may be a stupid little shite, but 'e made me fuckin' day. We were on some sorta giant super-train thing (I still don't understand the technology 'o this new dimension, but the conductor gave me the basics. I could probably build the nonmagic parts, if I gave two shots of piss in a backwater tavern), an'e jumps tha fuck off.

Off tha train.

Laughed me guts out.

Also, got attacked by halflings while transporting the Mournland-repeller thingy. Still don't care until they let me go find that flyin' castle.

>Morrowind charater: Redguard Blacksocutioner

Negrovarine's Journal: Day 57

WHY IS IT SO GODDAMN HARD TO MARK A PLACE ON A MAP!? I just spent three muthafuckin' days wandering around the Ashlands looking for a hole in the ground, because apparently that 2000 drakes was important enough for a high-level member of the guild, but not worth a tiny little X on my map.

On a more distressing note, I've found myself feeling sexual arousal when looking at cliff racers due to their being almost the only living things I've seen in days. I keep climbing hills, dreading the beasts, but secretly longing for the contact with life they provide me.

By the Divines, I miss Ald Rhun.

"Well I just saw another battle brother vortex himself into the warp today. When will the Ultramarines stop teaching their Librarians that power..."

I knew we should have shot the cameraman. Newsfeeds caught us heading out from the Black Shogun. And now there's Halloweeners in Neo-Tokyo? The fuck is this drek? It's a good thing I'm shipping out with my unit to Cambodia in a week, I am so sick of Japan already. It's not like I was thrilled about working for the Yaks anyways, but I will miss the Cartel stipend. Merc work might be less stressful, but it sure doesn't pay as much. At least I'll always have the muscle toner to remember it by, right?

Dear Diary,

Today the army came across a group of Iuz's forces. It had been some time since we last fought vampires but I remember them being harder to kill.

"Dear diary,

WTF?! WHAT THE HELL IS A GIANT SNAKE DOING INSIDE AN ABANDONED BUILDING IN THE MIDDLE OF HARLEM? Oh, awesome, now it wants to eat me, BRB."

It's been a long month since that, no new updates. Apparently something knocked my vampire unconscious and who knows what happened after that...

Just helped the lances kill Jack. Bastard deserved it, he was mauling on a human for no reason. That kind of craziness is something you only see on the other side. Martin gave me some of his special mix to drown the shock.

oh crap, slim started to throw up again jesus fuck what's the deal with the guy (vomit smears)

Data-log 3097:
The greenskin found yet another xeno gestating inside one of the crew. No evidence of a Queen, yet how he manages to immediately recognize the symptoms is beyond one such as myself.
The Captain is looking much better now, but some of the burn scars still remain. Offered to have one of the servitors take care of it, but he declined. Said he liked it.
Got to Footfall and delivered the package, and now headed towards the derelict ship with our two pirate captains. Hopefully, there won't be too many other ships looking for loot here. There are rumors of lost archeotech hidden there. This could be the key to my redemption... and my vendetta...
Chief Explorator of The Nostromo, signing off.

Farewell address to the soldiers of the 1st Dragonspine Rangers

Comrades,

It has been a hard few years, but we have done good work here. Our charming little country lies many leagues behind the front, in what the Westerlings would call “enemy territory”. But we know better, as does the Enemy and all his slaves.

When I returned home after my misadventures in the South I found the country much as I had left it. We patriots of Old Phlan, our neighbors of the Quivering Forest, the tribes of the Dragonspine… We are often at odds with one another, this is true. This country is no stranger to hardship and war. But we possess a noble spirit, from the mountains to the forests to the sea, and when the Outsiders came we showed them that this was not their country, but ours!

>>14651045

The Westerlings draw their lines on the map, putting us miles and miles into the Enemy’s territory, but the slaves of the Enemy know that this land means danger to them. There is no rest here for them! There is no respite here for them! There is no peace here for them! When the war is won the world will see that your actions here, this country that is forever free, kept the full force of the Enemy from marching to their lands. Every regiment that has come to pacify us has been crushed. Every monster that has been unleashed to plague us has met a native horror to tear out its throat. Every assassin sent to infiltrate us has been delivered unto the Nine Hells. Every vampire, lich, and sorcerer sent to match wits and skills with our elders has been found wanting.

Comrades,

We are not a peaceful country. We are not slaves. We have lived for centuries with the struggle of life and the reality of death. And it will ever be so, though we will be forever free!

>>14651057

I was not in residence when the strife came, though I was always here with you in heart and in spirit. I regret to say that certain events cause me to journey away once more. The Enemy cannot be defeated permanently with brute force of arms. Our country is proud and free, though constantly under siege. Even if the entire world was plunged into darkness, our spark of freedom and resistance would glare in the Enemy’s eye. But to eradicate the Enemy, from the entire world, I must answer a call of duty and sally forth once again from this country that I love.

I will be with you always in heart and spirit, and I will be with you in body at the End. I found you in capable hands, and I leave you in capable hands. I will return victorious, or I will not return at all. And I will return to a country of heroes, humble to stand among you and breathe the blessed air of this land once more.

Ab Astra, Ad Victorum!

Found the bastard who tricked menout of 500 gold. Cut my name into his arm with the "enchanted" dagger he sold me and handed him over to the guild to be hung in the morning :)

Today ve hef schpent de day inside de elveesh kity, gadderink supplies for our trek across de soul vrenchink terror dat Hy assume vill be de tundra leadink to de Black Tower. Hy hef tried mhenny times to konvince Casien dat dere are much betta vays to die. Honorable vays. Like vrestlink bears. However, a vizard iz a vizard, und he must schtick his nose vere it does not belong. De odders vo hef chust joined us do not see eidder, dat de Tower hain'tink but very, very bad nevs. Maybe Candice und Hy need to lean on him a bit herder to make him see dat dere's betta tinks to die for den legends.

~Kamp The Bear, orc barbarian

Neal, the human binder's recent journal:

Journal entry
X Day, Y Month
Close to midnight
We finally made it out of those accursed caves. Between the swarms of insects and the return of that strange mage I am all to happy to put it all behind me. I managed to keep my binding secret for another day but I fear that I'll be forced to reveal it soon. I should have been careful in which direction we were traveling. The mountains were becoming far too familiar. I thought nothing of it, and it slipped my mind completely when the the lion statues began to attack. But as we left our underground labyrinth I found myself staring at the last thing I wanted to see again. The temple I was raised in, where father Helios taught me Lathander's ways, was just beyond the forest clearing. We're camping for the night, and I've taken first watch. Every fiber of my being tells me to run but I know that if we don't regain that book the outcome will be far worse. I guess I'll have to face it tomorrow. I only hope he can forgive me for attacking him.

It's strange. All this time traveling, my friend Bas never came to mind before now. I suppose mourning the dead for so long would do no one any good, but with the temple so close I miss him dearly. He was innocent, and my reckless curiosity killed him.

Well my shift is almost up. The dragonborn told me he would take the next shift, so I'll pact with Tenebrous and Paimon before resting. Something tells me I'll need them.

>>14650837
Someone is actually playing a game of Engineheart? TELL ME MORE.

>>14651211

>Kamp the Bear, Hebrew Barbarian

FTFW

HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGG

I just died.

Day ?+1268

The delusions of omnipotence continue, though only in spurts. I watched as the last spacial construct came to a close, my mind turning to the empty canvas of the void. New thoughts are already starting to weave together to form the fabric of the next iteration, streaming unbidden from my head. A new world. A different world. More dry than its predecessor. The light of civilization snuffed out by a great calamity, though life still endures. Still struggles. Three peninsulas jut into a patina of water, bones thrust into the sky from their backs.

The dull background hum of an unknown power blankets this vision, though I don't understand what it means.

What is "Detroit"?

"Making deals with denizens of the lower plains is tiresome. Even with Micheals's(warlock) help, these creatures drive a hard bargain, especially that damnable pit fiend. He drives a hard bargain, but he offers much in return.

The others still don't suspect anything, of that I am sure. If that fool paladin were any more dense I suspect his head would make a better weapon than his sword, but he is useful.

I have discovered where another artifact is that will prove useful in my crusade, but it may be a problem convincing the others to assist me. I may simply have to do it myself and hide the armor for the time being.

Is that the sound of a bar fight I hear downstairs? I'm never going to get any quiet in this inn at this rate."

>>14651211
This is your DM speaking (fo' real real, not fo' play play.) You will die a horrible and unspeakable death at the claws of creatures and in malicious and malevolent traps. Enjoy your final days. :)

"Dear journal. Had idea for flesh golem in tux. Would name him Jeeves. Paladin won't let me make him."

"Got an offer to join the Freedom City Not-JLA. Had to fight some robots, and I couldn't hit anything worth SHIT
After that, it was some kind of keep-away game. my 'side' had a ninja, a stretchy guy some kid and me, we we fighting a guy made out of paper, a psychic and some guy that oozed influence, but didn't know how to use it. We won, handily."

Fought the bandits AGAIN. they nearly killed Scyther, but we managed to take em out and took a few trophies back to the bounty office

>>14651640
Dear journal, had another idea. Make a stone golem but one with a permanent Stone to Flesh spell on it. An undifferentiated meat golem.

Then start a restaurant around it. Make it sort of a steak and ale but also with a fighting pit where you can square off against Beefy the Meat Golem and anything you hack off, we'll cook up for you!

I'm gonna be rich!

>>14651621

October 18th, 347. Goblin dead in alleyway this morning. Wheel tracks on burst stomach. Cold getting worse. Sore throat. Difficult to speak without growling. Not letting that druid near me, though. Druid clearly psychotic. Must remember to euthanize her owl first, avoid decapitation.

A hundred days left before the end of the world. I have a hundred days to redeem myself, do what I couldn't do eight years ago.

I'm coming, flower. Don't fret.

Teaser to a quest i'm righting, hopefully one day soon bring out.

March 1946 -

Saw HerrWurfel at the factory today. He wanted to keep the plans we had worked on. It told him no, that they belonged to the both of us that without me, they would be worth nothing.
He said it was invented for the good of all men, but I could see the desperation in his eyes. He took a swing at me, we wrestled for a few minutes until I laid him out cold with the bottom of one of the typewriters. Bastard, I’ve had four years working with this fastidious and obstinate man, should have reported him to the Gestapo, told them about his Jewish grandfather. But that would’ve meant dragging his kids into it… and asking why I didn’t report it as soon as I knew…

Now the question is what to do with the plans. If done in the right way, they could change the world, and they'll need it if their going to fight another world war. But I need more… I need to get back to the secret lab at Rummelsburg.

"So our Spirit Shaman attempted to murder her fuck-buddy for no reason, we somehow got suckered into a spat between halfling smugglers and a corrupt treasury official, and we leave town in two days to kill an orc claiming to be Gruumsh while he's surrounded by hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Tyr help me, this is some crazy bullshit."

My most recent character IS, in fact, keeping a journal, and his last entry was,

"Always be aware of the fog! It is tripfog, and scotty and my friend say not all fog is tripfog, but I think it is, and tripfog is not good fog. Also, liches have a fondness for clocks. Watch out for clocks."

"Descendants of original party used portal to visit on image-some sort of recognition duties. Original Adults deceased. This has caused distress equal within error margins too loss of creators. Attempting to shape small subsections of Primary Self near habitats into appropriate semblences of them, but will require decisions regarding appropriate poses. Created weapons and armor for two to aid in distribution of justice.

Minor off-self granted permission to assist. This is lightening, as that unit had difficulty in finding a particular interest or wish for life. May result in protector status for their world. Much pride.

Catalogued world 105 dead world. Most organic-friendly resources stripped, damage consistent with assimilated gravitational core. Remains assimilated.

Backtracking is most depressing. Other arm of this exploration scale shows greater promise of life, though This Empire has yet to see appropriately scaled threats any may require protection from. Happiness may be located, though boredom shall accompany.

Inhabitants holding drinking festival. Regions may sustain minor damage. Temporarily suppressing defense response and partaking for later memory-absorbtion using avatar.

Portal flickers as always."

"I boned an elf princess last night. Not feeling well. Can elves have chlamydia?"

Jan. 13, -135

The cat blew up today. My bombs smell like fish. Must remember to get label maker.

>>14651955
Character was a self-aware golem; told it was made to be a weapon from the beginning, but raised by an adventuring party after the loss of its creators. It saw the scale of 'what gets saved' grow almost by the month, and eventually ate a sub-planetary body, to seek what needs help in the universe.

Like if the borg only assimilated your asteroids while trying to save the universe so everyone can be happy.

Casien Vadalis
Morning, Day 56.
Tarionaio, Borderland town of Elvish forest.
It has been too long on our trip through the elf lands. The original group from Duncraig disappeared; they left us stranded in a port town on our way to deal with a ghost dragon. Those remaining decided that we had best not tackle the beast alone and headed north toward the Black Tower; the other two members of our group, Candice a fellow wizard from Duncraig Wizarding Academy, and Kampf a well mannered and strangely trusting orc, have tried to dissuade me from this mission. I find when an archmage tells you to do something, you do it; even so, he wouldn't send us to our doom. I have trust that we'll survive this expedition.

Evening, Day 56.
Tarionaio, Borderland town of Elvish forest.
I feel we might come out better off than I anticipated! Though, this new group discourages me: they are a ragtag bunch that I feel will only be helpful on the way to the tower as guards. I even had the nerve to allow a Helvurisian scholar aboard; I'll have to keep an eye on that backstabbing rogue. The gnome is exuberant, and we have another dwarf in the group, the former disturbs me and the latter makes me feel more at home... I miss Sarjov at times like these. Though I'll have to cut this short, as I have a few contracts to write up for this new group. I'm sure it won't be necessary after the message the elf at the shop gave me earlier today. I have a feeling they don't want us visiting the north, and that getting through their lands may be a bit more difficult that I had thought it would be.

"...Well, that's it."

"To anyone that finds this."

"Never buy anything from the sorcerer's shop at the East Gate."

I'd post mine from the one I'm writing for Sylene, but it's kind of bad. I'm still trying to find her voice and mannerisms...and last time I checked I'm not a six-armed spider humanoid...or a girl. So yeah.

...It has been a few weeks since we entered Eleven lands. I've managed to keep to myself for the most part, and nobody has tried to pry on me so far. Being around my kin, especially being a half-blood, is getting increasingly more dangerous. If I'm exposed, we may be expelled from the forest. Possibly the nation. Cassien would take it in stride. Nothing bothers him really. I don't get it.

From what he told me about our new traveling companions, I'm beginning to question how he earned his Third degree in Necromancy. He plans to enter the most forbidden and desolate lands on this continent, where creatures that can consume your very soul and tear your body apart lurk with an uneducated, but impressively strong orc, a "halfling or a small child," a dwarf that doesn't even wear armor and carries a bow, an untrustworthy man from the nation that we've been at war with for decades, and a GNOME of all things. Were I not in the position I was, it would be a trivial task for me to raise a small army for him from the outlying lands, march to the tower, and arrange for another group to rendezvous with us at the bottom of the tower in a few weeks. At least then we'd have a chance. We'd leave plenty of markers so they can find us, and it would all work out. I know he won't figure it out, and I'll have to hold his hand through this whole thing. If only it didn't have to be the Elven lands. I swear, if I make it out of here without incident, it will be a miracle.

Knikker, which is Dutch for marble (the kind children play with, not the rock), my Half Orc Skald/Bard in Pathfinder is illiterate, but if any of his party members keeps a journal the last entry probably says something like this:

"Today Hrolf, the Dwarven King, held a feast to honour our victory over the minions of the dread necromancer Gróa at Three Wyvern Lake. All of the Stone Guard warriors that survived the battle were present too, including old Hrungir even though he lost his left leg and forearm to that undead Troll.
The meal lasted for hours, Dwarfs are really creative cooks and have found dozens of ways to prepare mushrooms, goat, blind underground fish and what vegetables will grow this high in the mountains. Roasting, baking on stone slabs and stewing in beer seem to form the core of their repetoire though.
Once the eating part of the feast was over, the most important part of a good feast according to Dwarves began. Drinking. Serious drinking..."

continued in next post.

continued from >>14653047

"A Loremaster recited the account of our exploits as they will be recorded in the holds chronicles, it was a fine tale indeed. The court Bard then performed a few Dwarven sagas and poems recounting famous events from Dwarven history.
It took a while for Knikker, never blessed with the quickest of wits and quite drunk already, to fully understand what was going on. Once he realised the similarity with his own calling, he loudly (and drunkenly) proclaimed that Dwarves and Orcs were not so different after all and that he did the same thing as his tribes skald at their feasts. This comparison caused some commotion of course, but in the end the King asked Knikker if he would recite some of his tribes epics. Knikker replied he could do better and that he would tell one including Dwarves.
He then went on to recite the story of how his tribe ambushed a Dwarven caravan, slaughtered all the Dwarfs, looted the bodies and wagons and celebrated with a two day drinking binge on stolen Dwarven ale.
Of course this caused quite an uproar but at least the outraged Dwarves now know what happened to Eirik Goldbeard and his missing trade expedition."

"Finally got all of my blood washed off my armor after that bit with the swarm of giant leeches...

Still trying to decide whether that was worse than involuntarily rupturing and bursting out of the mutated snake-tailed half-dragon priestess' stomach after she tried to eat me, though.

Not even going to start about what happened with the ranger's badger. For another day, maybe."

If you found this, it means they put you in the same cell as me. Either I'm dead, I've escaped, or I've been moved to a higher security place, because there's no way that you're alive to read this and I'm your cellmate.

Your life is in danger. I've rigged the whole prison to explode unless my demands are met. Show the warden this message, He'll know who it's from.

>>14650603
Can I do one of my players since I'm the GM? If no, fuck you I'mma do it anyways.

Jeremiah: "That god damn lizard wizard got his goddamn self possessed and killed one of our pieces of evidence for the trial. I'd kill him if God hadn't told me not to. On another note, that red haired girl is probably more than likely a vampire. I think I will attempt to court her."

My character can't read or write, sadly. So let's get some stream-of-conciousness up in this metaplane!
I'm gone. Gutted... Brown bread, and buttered too.
The capper near tore me in half. I see those beady eyes widen and his teeth chattering and I know I've hopped the twig and I'm off to see the ferryman 'cause thats the last thing I see.

There he is. Ugly looking blighter. But then, do I really see him or am I too far gone? I can't see straight. My gut feels... cold. I try to ask him. I'm spilling out. I'm feeling all-overish and touching nowhere and I've made a slit-in-the-dress all over the...

No, that isn't mine. I'm ankle-deep in bone and mincemeat, spikes all round, caged in. My mouth tastes like a slaughterhouse. I want to spew my guts up but they're hanging limp. The bone-shattering whip crack drowns out the sobs, my sobs. My whole body is shuddering. Still no sign of Nic. I'm fucked, and I sure as shit know it.

I'm in the gypsy knell now, and I know how it goes. They torture me for a month of sundays until they have to scoop me off of the floor... Cardea preserves... Not me.

Not me.

Anyone but me.

I shift in the mulch on the bottom of my cage. It's still warm. We're moving. It turns my way, and I'm pissing myself. I back up far as I can go, scooping up my guts as the spikes tear into me. The boys always says I was gutless. Never thought I'd prove them right.

A roar - a roar and it's made of screams. The cage tips backwards and I'm stumbling out the door. I'm running. It's all blood and brimstone and I can't see what I'm stepping in. The fire lights the way. Civilisation, even down here. I scurry to the first hiding place I can and curl up. I'm not getting an ounce of soot ever again, I'll wager. I'm clutching a piece of bone to me. My drum and fife. If they come for me, I'll be ready. If they come for me, I stab them in the throat.

... I'm not signing anything ever again.

Good day today. Sat in the pool while the Charlie thought it would be a good idea to camp outside Ms. Johnson's house in the only highsec area of Amazonia.

I swear that fucker doesn't realize where he is half the time, must be that wiz bang mojo fucking his brain chem up... Or that nasty crack to the skull a few weeks back in Tokyo.

Whatever. He got hauled into jail and Epic White had to pull strings to get him out with a fine instead of incarceration.

More time in the hot tub while I phone in some more hacks.

>>14653601
PC deaths suck, right guys? This is my walking anachronism cockney monk. He flurries with a dagger and relishes in cheap shots. Turns out being 30ft. faster than the party is totally overrated. It just means you're 30ft. closer to the redcaps that want to tear you in two.

"First he gets a Warrant, a Titan, and now he has a fucking BATTLECRUISER? How in the name of the Astronomican did he pull that one off? I mean, all I ever got was an extra eye and this pipe organ. I guess I should be glad we're on the same side."

"Today (technically, the day after today, since we went across the terminator) I kept my promise to the factor's daughter. Just as I knew it would happen, the Emperor saw fit to gift me with three anti-machine grenades. "Hay-wire," they called them, but they didn't look like they were made from straw to me. When we found a nearly-invisible cloaked ship out on the surface with a colossal metal monster in it, I knew my foresight was paying off--but not in the way I expected. The ship took off by itself, and strange beings appeared in one of the holds, draining power. I did what anyone would do--threw a grenade at them. The hay-wire banished one instantly, and the others retreated; the ship recovered equilibrium just as we were about to hit the ground at the bottom of a cliff. As the priests attempted to affect repairs on this strange beast (muttering something about 'powering up the Titan') we were attacked by raiders. The weapons on the machine fought them off, but not before a few crashed into the hole our rapid descent had torn into the cargo hold. A survivor joined the group--a telepath. I count my blessings that my thoughts cannot be read. The spirits surrounding her are chaotic; I am not sure if she will help or hinder our return to Imperial space. With the ship's invisibility restored we pursued our mission to recover the factor's shipment from the mercenaries that took payment in blood and flesh, finding their base was easy enough, finding a way in more problematic.

Complicating matters was an invisible fortress floating overhead that the mercenaries did not seem to notice... Although ships descended to attack them. While I hunted for the shipment armed with a large timed explosive one of the priests produced from his person with a smile I'd prefer to forget he'd made, the rest of our cell would investigate the fortress. My natural gift of stealth served me well as I descended the tunnel into the ground until I attempted to incapacitate one of the mercenaries and take his identity. While I sliced his throat he bit me, and when I took his face... The Immaterium had other plans: I incapacitated all of them, all the .. things .. guarding access deeper inside. Up was down and down was up for a short stretch of time that felt like eternity as I rose towards the roof of the cavern, lost in shadow above. I knew how to fall great distances, they did not. Walking away from a twenty-four meter fall with only a broken foot that was easily healed was pleasing; the splattered remains of my enemies were even more so. They were not human: their teeth were sharper than mine and they did not bleed, they oozed poisonous clotted blood. I planted the explosive in a crate full of the explosive mineral used to construct it, and I can only pray the explosion proved enough to wipe out the entire shipment. I could not stay any longer without risking my cover, already one was suspicious of my lack of metal parts. The shipment was teleported after I planted the bomb, and I can only guess at what happened to it afterwards and if I got the right shipment. The priest blessed my dedication to the cause of our survival. The Emperor guides my unworthy hand, though it falters of its own accord. I await word of the fortress.

Ghost

The girl appeared to me again. It was dead of the night and there she was at the foot of my bed as she had been before. Huge, lifeless green eyes muted in the dark, a broad sharp toothed grin spread across her small pale face. She told me she would bring my dead daughter back if I helped her with it. Told me I had to kidnap a girl as she was arriving home from a ball on the other side of town. I didn't want to. I wanted to stop the killing. But my sweet daughter, I haven't seen her in a year. I obliged. She warned us the girl had a bodyguard. Elizo and I left almost immediately. I with my musket slung upon my back and my sword at my side, moving about the dark streets in my fieldplate. Elizo in her thick cloak, hidden dagger on his wrist, gladius at his hip and bow upon the ready. We came upon the girl in the streets and followed her till we were in an alley and it was just the four of us. We fought her bodyguard and killed her. After a struggle, I managed to slice her throat out with my blade and carve through till her neck gave and her head was removed. We stomped upon the girl with our boots until she was unconscious, before bringing her back to our room at the inn. The innkeeper had no idea. It was too dark to see her properly and I told her she was a niece who had gotten drunk at a party. When we got upstairs we tied her to a chair and I slit her throat with my sword till her head nearly came off. We drained her blood into a bucket, as the small sharp toothed girl had requested. She brought my daughter back, but as a rotting, suffering corpse.
"Daddy, it itches." Those were the last words I would hear from my daughter before silencing her agonizing existence out of mercy and love in my heart. I haven't slept in four days.

D&D 3.5

My character actually tries to write back to his parents, who were also adventurers, after every adventure. So I'll format this as a letter.

Dear Mum,

Recently we met a lone survivor from a group of adventurers who were visiting a floating towers. As we had spent the last two days relaxing in town, I spent it in the library studying their religion, some action was welcome.

On the first day of travel our Warden saw a remnant from his past and decided to go investigate it alone. Shortly after my Raven saw signs of a fight involving magic users, a welcome sight, and orcs, a less welcome sight. We engaged the orcs and one of them assaulted me with his axe. Multiple times. It appears that he development an infatuation with me.

After the orcs were defeated one of the arcane users, a swordmage, decided to travel with us to the tower, though he did not trust us.

After some incidents in the forest, which killed some of our horses, we arrived at the clearing which had the floating tower. From the forest some large beast attached to a balloon appeared and picked up the tower, so we rushed to get in.

After climbing up a ladder on the side a man in platemail and green robes appeared, and our rogue threw a dagger at him. He was able to ignore this so I used magic to pull him out of the tower, at which point we found out he had powers of flight.

Thus ensued a long, tedious in which everyone fell unconscious but me. Fortunately I was able to best the sorcerer, who exploded into mechanical components, and we quickly climbed into the tower.

Overall it was a rather pleasant time compared to running away from a goblin army.

Much love, Brabaticus.

P.S. Why did you never tell me how dangerous this job was in your stories?

Dear Diary,

Those idiots went off and got into a big fight again, leaving me behind. What were they thinking?! They know, drunk or not, I'm always ready for a scrap. Heard it kicked their asses too. That'll teach them!

Three games going at once, so...

Sir Skjöldr Adelfried, Half-Giant Knight
"I punched a dinosaur in the face today. It was a good day."

Fenneous Bolfry, Tiefling "Businessman"
"This whole 'Ascension' thing is starting to get on my nerves, it doesn't pay nearly well enough. I'm being sent into danger left and right, the damned warlock keeps shooting me in the back 'by mistake,' and I've gone through two coats since this whole business started. Also, the broken ribs seem to be faring well. At least the healy-bird is competent. Sometimes."

Eirianna Rennath, Elven Necromancer
"Fae blood tastes unpleasant. I feel somewhat better now, but every time I look out to the forest I notice I'm being watched. Lucas is doing far better than I expected, the new body I crafted for him has yet to begin rotting, which I take to mean the lifebinding was a success. I hope I never have to explain all that went into that to him, he'd probably smite me. He's already angry about the faerie, but it was necessary for my own peace of mind, if nothing else."

"Dear Journal,

This damn gun won't shut up. I finally found my target--he was apparently working for the Witch Hunters. Fortunately, he wasn't too attached so asking him to quit was as easy as telling him his wife had to leave. I haven't seen a single Khapri since I walked into the city--so they are either hiding or I need to spread my pheromones a bit more. I have a feeling my sister is here--but if she's enslaved by a tyrant like I suspect then I can't just make it publicly known that I'm looking for her. If she has even the slightest bit of fame or prestige I'm sure it'd tip them off. And who knows what the sick bastards who bought her would want with her or what kind of attention she'd garder given the rarity of our species here.

So I joined the Witch Hunters today--I figure it'll be easier to find out more about the slave trade if I stick with the police. Besides, they apparently hunt spellcasters so it should get my gun to shut up...and hopefully keep it satiated enough so it won't drain any more of my psyche then it needs too. Our first task was a simple retrieval mission. There was a big mechanical bug but it was as stupid as a male of the hive. The gun got hungry during the fight--almost wore me to the bone but we got the damn thing.

This damn just won't shut up,
Goodnight; Self"

~Khepri Gunslinger

Jin 1, 1412 MC -

"That son of a bitch Perethron is insane! He knows full well what lies beyond the doors of the Ark of Andrassia, yet he's going to open it anyway! I don't care if he has lived for five thousand years; even a creature as powerful as he cannot hope to overcome the Emperor and force him to submit to his will. Our only chance at stopping Perethron is to destroy the Key of Eternity before he can unseal the gates.

But there is a complication: Perethron has sent his son, Menelathas, aboard their aerial gunship, to destroy our home city, Merudo. He must be stopped as well. Fortunately, when we breached the Sanctum of the Everliving, we found the master control room for the Sigilstone Network. We can use the network to teleport to any other Sigilstone, so we still have a chance to catch up to both of them, and put an end to this, once and for all.

Stein and his team will pursue Menelathas; the rest of us will stop Perethron.

Meridian Emergency Response Corps (MERCs), represent!"

Dear diary,

Today we went to the court to meet with all the Major Clan bigwigs. As it turns out, everybody is bitches, especially the Lion and Crane. Seriously, fuck those guys. But it's all okay because I got to flirt with hot Fox Clan booty and her nerd-hot Otomo friend. Tonight I am gonna sneak into Shiro Otomo and tap that ass.

All in all, much better than starving to death in Dragon provinces. Glade we came

-"Toritaka" Kenpachi

Dear journal, Date: I forgot how long we've been on this airship, but the clock broke two weeks or so ago.

Can't believe we listed to our commander. 'let's not fight, and say we did, hide under this floating island". Things went south in all meanings of the word when we didnt have the power to pull ourselves back up. We've been drifting down through this endless cloud field stuff for about a month or two now I think.

Annie, if ya' read this some how, Know I love you and I'll be fighting my way back up when i get down, you read?

*insert signature with a ton of little spiral stylings like dots for the i's and ends for P's and Q's, *
-Michael

>updated my journal.
>updated my journal.
>updated my journal.

ZAneteeez Joornal.
Dae Wun

Kobat tryeed tah teech meh Two rite. It (Random Scribbles) BHUT not two hurd. I dudled sum moaer todai an Neeco PROHMBISED! Tah get meh ah TyreSwing foer ar nu Howse!!!!!!!!!!
Luv: ZAhneetee

(Bad stick Drawings of an Afro sporting Paladin, a Tiefling Warlock with a cane, a wizard shifter who looks drunk, another Afro guy with a magical lightning sword and a big doodle of a Gorilla swinging on a tire Swing in the background)

So, it seems we have hit a dead end in our investigation in finding Peter... it would appear that we have no choise but to infiltrate Dawn Biozyne and find out what is in that back room in warehouse 2.

I hope we can get out after we get in.

>Not an rpg character, a story one.


"I remember all that has come before, and I know all that must happen. I want nothing more than to take a ship and fly off to war, but I know that my revenge will not come from senselessly throwing this life away.

'Life'. I really must stop writing that word.

The hallucinations have become somewhat more frequent. Now I see -him- (*word crossed out*) me even among others, watching and giving my opinion. It is somewhat troublesome, for lack of a better word.

I'll train these pilots. Turn them from rookies into aces. Then I'll get my revenge.

As always, Olivia is in my thoughts."

>>14653878
I reaaaally really love this idea for some reason.
>>14654367
iseewhatyoudidthere

"I like mages; they're so entertaining. You can trade riddles with them, and actually have intelligent conversations! With extra meanings!
Plus some of them are pretty damn good-looking, and this one gave me free stuff because he likes my cryptic comments. Never had that happen before.
Oh, sure, he's a polymorphed something, but what I can see looks good at the moment. I'd take that chance.
Really, how dangerous could he be underneath it, and be in this backwater?

...Wait. I'm in this backwater. I'm disguised. I'm definitely dangerous.
Well, shit.

Guess I'll find out what happens."

Things my self-forged robot fist has punched (chronological):
- Ghosts
- Zombies
- Pirates
- The Paladin (deceased)
- Skeletons
- A Death Knight (off his bone dragon, deceased)
- A Bone Dragon
- Undead Birds

Things my self-forged robot fist will punch:
- The Shaman
- The Lich that took my original arm (fuckface)
- The Shaman, again

The town which I introduced to democracy (there are Demons out there, and you'd be Crazy not to let me kill them for you) has been doing well - electing me as their leader was the painfully obvious choice, mostly because the pain seemed especially ful at the time of the election. Despite material setbacks they have been making admirable progress, building war fortifications from the bones of the deceased and the lumber of their charred homes. The survivors barely cried as they did this, making them ideal candidates for continued survival. Today, I am a proud mayor.

We have set off to the east - apparently, the primal spirits are in unrest. My apathy could move mountains, but the shaman was insistent. Debating over whether to punch him whilst he's awake, or asleep. Leaning toward latter option, seems slightly more just.

Dear Journal,

I'm glad I broke and bought a flame retardant journal now as I am currently ablaze. I protected my party of idiots from the wraith and my reward is to be set on fire. I guess it's karma considering ...this really hurts. *dies*

Woke up on yet another island today. Mostly desert, some yellowed grass, a couple of small caves. Had to walk quite a ways to find some trees. Built a pickaxe and found some coal, so I made some torches and shored up one of the caves, in preparation for tonight."

Roamed a little farther, found some iron ore. Got enough for a couple of pickaxes, then had to rush back to my hideyhole before dark. I can hear the zombies patrolling outside. Why does it seem like they always know where I'm hiding? Maybe they smell the smoke from my furnace?

"Dear Diary,
again a beautiful night and a new underaged ghoul, seriously thats bullshit, why does that always happen? first a pink baseball bat than these underaged prostitute, i hate working for that toreador-bitch. good thing the others can't speak or write english so they can't read this. i need a drink, too bad i can't drink beer anymore, must find a bummer. But if it keeps going i'll only find another drunken child.
I wonder if people ever write something interesting in these books?"

Day xx Month xx Raven's Year.
It's been hard going these past few weeks, we lost most our supplies back in White Stone when the storm hit and had to stash the rest just to stay ahead of Evernight.
We have no food left and Evan, lady rest his soul, was all we could do to stay ahead.

We have nothing but that gourd and there is still the mountains to cover before the months end.

Dear Racheal, how did you ever handle this?

>>14654407
..are you Medic?

>>14652306
Sylene?

>Sister Hospitaller Samantha.
>Journal entry 32
>Time: 51.36 hours since mission start.

>Thought for the day: Body and soul cannot be separated for purposes of treatment, for they are one and indivisible.

By the Emperor's grace, we have found a Plasma Core, we cleared the filth out of the control room and now hold the lower aft of the hulk.

Tomorrow we'll push forward into the Ork held territory once the Storm Troopers reinforce our position.

Sister Vanil was treated successfully but her ankle will need to be replaced. She has been reassigned to hold this point.

Pushing forward without Sister Vanil or Sister Clario will be slow and our ETA on Objective D-2 has been revised by 26 hours.

We must have faith to the Emperor our intelligence is correct or further delays will happen.

Glory to the Emperor

So, my graduating class put it to a vote and has agreed we need to get out of Gloomwrought before the Cabal finds out Master Duskpath is dead. We're all going separate ways, since a pack of traveling necromancers tends to attract undue attention, and not just from Duskpath's supporters. We can't know how many were in the plot to sacrifice us to Orcus, and so we can trust no one associated with the Cabal.

Also, the fucker was actually going to flunk me for my essay on the use of flesh golems in theater as being unoriginal. As far as I'm concerned, the fact that we got the drop on him means we all deserve our staffs, so what the hell did he know?

For my part, I've decided that leaving the city isn't enough. Rumors on the docks say that the World is the place for excitement, fortune, power, and well-set up pretties with loose morals. I've bought passage on a planar galley to get me there, nearly took up the gold I have. Cavorting with the local bitches will have to wait a bit.

Gods, I can't wait. I wonder if it's really as bright and hot as the books say. I mean, a plane can't actually reach as high as 60 F for half the year, can it? My dorm mate saids that people can't even look indirectly at the sun, it's so bright it will burn their eyes out! I guess people there just look at the ground all the time. I wonder if they have to wear goggles all the time to protect their eyes. I'll make sure to buy some as soon as I get there.

I'd be a fool if I wasn't a little scared. But the worst is over. Our teacher is dead and we survived the Cabal's lessons. I got out and the World is suppose to be huge. Here's to hoping.

"We found an old Rhino from the war, it was half buried under a collapsed building, but I was still able to get the hatch open, you'd be amazed how roomy the things are, I supposed they would have to be in order to transport the poster boys around. Anyway, I figured it was the safest place to get some rest. The girl didn't like it, I told her to stop worrying, turns out she was right, or something. I was barely asleep when she started to freak out, mumbling all creepy like, I managed to stick her with the sedative just in time, it was starting to rain blood... Inside the Rhino.

At any rate, with the girl asleep and the Rhino secure. Emperor willing, I might finally be able to get more than a few minutes sleep."

"Third day of literacy blessing. Turns out the sign to the nearest town lead me to a lake. Upon closer inspection I've found that the town is actually at the -BOTTOM- of the lake, after considerable flooding. I'll be swimming down there tomorrow after some rest and making sure I can still hold my breath for an hour.

I also stepped on a caltrop. Who in Tricalque's name just leaves those things next to a tree? I accidentally peed on that boot, too. Feeling super smart with this blessing!

I hate my own thoughts. This sucks."

The floating monkey which fires the glowing orbs has mocked me. He has mocked me in front of the other monkeys. Me! Sumonsoir! Shallowstalker! Crockbattler! Scion of The Black Face of Tiamat!

I do not know what the golden monkey which killed my Queen-Mother has done... Or, perhaps, it was the kobold in the swamp? Or the voice which led me here? Whatever the case, I feel trouble in the bubbling of the acid within my gut.

This place is not good. It is dry, and there are doors my mighty talons cannot open, through dexterity or strength. My acid does not melt the floors or walls. The seiling is low. There is no room to fly, and nowhere to swim, and I am apparently expected to ally myself with a cowardly cleric of some heathen monkey god, his warlock friend, and what may or may not be an immortal coldblood. They are all simian, and stupid, and they smell like weakness.

I would feast on them for their insolence. I did not fall! The electricity of the strange, shining warforged stunend me momentarily. That is all it was, and I will set the surses of Tiamat and the boiling of acid upon those who dare speak otherwise!

I miss the swamps. I even begin to miss mother's guards, despite their bumbling and their incompetence in allowing things to reach this point... They were always good for a laugh, when I removed a talon or tail-tip.

Wait, it seems the cleric approaches. The most pathetic monkey of all, but if we are to adventure, his ervices may prove necessary. I ehard once that a cleric can make or break such business. He certainly repaired the singing to my scales effectively enough... And perhaps this hairy barbarian knows a bit mroe about this 'Centra' place.

...

He does not.

I will consume his pickled meat when he sleeps, healing spells or no. This is NOT good.

After the shootout in the gym, and after I kicked the fat man's broken leg for a bit. We headed to see the medicae to get patched up. I hope the plasma burn I got doesn't scar. That ribbing on the barrel is ugly as is. I gave the triple-barreled shotgun to Gizmo, she apreciated it, even if the gesture spooked her. Trenchie and the girl need some sleep, and so do I. But I can't stop. Not until I find this son of a whore.

We found the asshole's apartment block. Going in to find him.
Swear to the Emperor's stinking carcass that I'll fucking kill Eskavez myself.
Who the fuck kills his pregnant girlfriend, and then removes the fetus?
I'll kill fuck, even if it costs me my life. Nothing worse than a sicko who hurts kids.

I've lost track of our time at sea. It has been very different from my cloister in the temple...these men are so very brutish and the captain's hardly any better. Oh, how I wish I hadn't let myself get talked into this.

Should be worth it if we can put an end to the raids of those scaly bastards.

--

Ha! What luck! Aion be praised that we've all made it out of that mess alive. Attacked by strange smooth lizard folk and our ship is completely destroyed. It seems we've been able to gather all the important cargo, including my holy book and my two servants.

Turns out we're too far from Myconia for my magic to get us there. It's a shame we'll have to wait it out here while the sea-fungi bring us supplies.

Dear diary: Today I called down a Loki shot with a rifle designator. It was hilarious. Or, I think it was. There was the small matter of running in the opposite direction so as not to be obliterated.

But they were all elves, so it's okay. French elves, at that.

My character is a barbarian. So it's just feces smeared on the page into a smily face.

[REDACTED]'s taxidermy job on the Chaos Marine's skull exceptional. Refrained from torturing her for a few hours as a reward, despite tedium of space travel.

Lord-Captain may be possessed. Refuses to let go of sword, but claims to still have full control of his faculties. Beat him thoroughly while he was manacled just to be sure, slightly annoyed when [REDACTED] stopped me. Poured entire shaker of salt over her food at midday then forced her to eat it as revenge.
Also, gave her permission to shoot Captain if necessary or she feels like it. She just went pale. Still unable to comprehend her dislike for warfare.

Ship's Medicae still drunk. Also, now fairly sure he is not actually a Medicae. Obsession with drugs unseemly, but assisted self-flagellation unlikely to solve problem; seems too stupid to understand reason for beatings. Unfortunately.

Ship's Astropath-in-chief remains charmingly incompetent. No real complaints about ship Navigator, either.

Seneschal unabashedly craven and entirely willing to murder his way through a situation when expedient. Would almost feel kinship if he weren't so terrible at it.

Must go now; Tyranid swarm approaching and need to make sure they run at me first.

Day twelve, have yet to find the flag.
I have beaten to death the two that we caught last night. They now reside with Hel.

The soothsayer is refusing to speak to me for my actions but I will not apologise for what was necessary.
I do not wish to ruin my relationship with her. How does Freyja handle such a heart?

>>14655096
So?
Mines a Barbarian also and yet >>14655822

FUCKING BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!

AAAAAAAUGH!

Dear diary, yesterday I met a fairly unexperienced adventuring party looking for someone to supplement their ranks, as they were in need of some extra manpower. As what they proposed seemed fair, and had probably had a trinket and some monetary benefits involved, I decided to hitch along - it's not that I was occupied by terribly important business either. Looks like I'm the most experienced person in the bunch now. The only human too, alongside my three elven companions, and the druid's wolf.

We started out by gathering a little more background at the local in. Apparently, it does help when you pay the whole joint a round of good ale. We found out goblins had been bothering the townsfolk, robbing them of a magic apple they had honestly bought from the goblins themselves. Odd, dealings with goblins, and goblins even possessing such an object. Their base of operations is rumoured to having something to do with an ancient dragon legend or so. At least, some elderly chap told me.

On top of that, the countryside on the road to the goblin camp was made dangerous by some unknown nightly horror, killing anyone there at night, covering them in hundreds of cuts. Figured we'd try and solve that riddle too.

We were prodded awake by our rogue on guard duty who had spotted - yes - two walking shrubberies walking out of the shrubberies. Our rogue fired her crossbow, hitting the nearest walking plant, but not doing any apparent damage. The wolf, at it's owner's command, charged in, delivering a vicious bite, but receiving a blow in return. I decided to bide my time, and wait until they were close enough to hit both with my spell. Turns out they weren't that strong, as even my measly magic missile took them almost out, after which they didn't last a whole lot longer. Back to bed. Annoying bushes, disrupting my sleep.

"Holy shit, is that a zombie kraken? That's awesome."

The book was immediately returned to his backpack, pending the battle with said zombie kraken.

*top of the page shows a full line of failed attemps at writing "dear diary"*
Deer Dary
Funy short black man teached me to write. Eh say writening is usful. Writeing does nt make food?
Today shoot a lot. Womens in tincans came and shot some more to ratpeople from the sewers. They also had this huge metal thing that shooted fireballs and it shot them and everything went boom and the roof fell and we ran because they were a lot.
So we went to sewers. Sewers smell nice and remind me of home. So we meet another mutie. I no liked it but gave him money because he poor and no eat and i help fellows. He talked and talked. and talked some more! He did nothing but talk! I watched Lazrarus funy face when he listeneded to him because he was not happy of losing his shooting car thing. We ran around and do things when mutie told us wanted to see friend and we hear voice. We go there but he not there! And we search and search but not there! And then talking spiders came and I got angry, so angry that punched them all in the face and they fell dead and I punched them more because they imitating mutie's friend voice. They not funny. And dead.

This is how imagine my assassin mutant sees his daily adventures on some hiveworld shithole.

>>14655979
Continued.

We checked them for any signs as to what happened, as they obviously weren't killed too long ago. No clues, but our rogue stumbled upon a concealed door. We pried it open, with some effort, and were greeted by the sight of three skeletons. Fine. Then, they decided to rise, and looked - well, whatever passes for that, with no eyes and all - rather menacingly at us. Well blast. So blast them I did, roasting them not quite alive, but still rather effectively, in a vicious sheet of flames, with a little extra motivation from our bard. Pays off being the more experienced party member. Looks like the wolf and I are actually more dangerous than the rest, judging by the general way things went. Harhar. Found a few gold pieces to boot, looks like them skeletons died with their purses on them. Quite a good risk-reward ratio, with all of them incinerated within seconds, and none of us getting hurt.


We decided to make our way to the main entrance, but not before discovering a pit trap at the door.

Naturally, once again, I managed to loose my footing, very nearly falling down, if it hadn't been for the good reflexes of the bard. I'm may be blasting everything in our path, but my being terribly clumsy clearly evens things out.

June 6, 1943
Food: 7 days at current rationing.Moral good, ammunition low, water situation resolved.

IJA attacks faltered during the night and Lance Corporal Mark has returned to duty in fit condition. Recommend Corpsman DeMarco for commendation for locating a fresh water spring and treating LCpl Mark.

Will push forward on objective and attempt to secure the site. OSS Lieutenant Caspar very insistent that we do so before the IJA are able to remove any material. Mortar ammunition effectively exhausted, I have ordered the tubes spiked and abandoned.

Date unknown, approximately seven real time months since the last entry.

Still sealed inside this thing. I often wonder if my estimations of the difference between my perception of time and its actual flow are correct. If so, I have spent here over five hundred years already.

I thought I'd go insane by now. I almost wish I did.
Almost.

I still want to kick the ass of that mage. And that won't happen if I go crazy. Then again, I'm not even surei if he's still alive. If not, he hopefully had children. I'll kill them instead.
Or their children. Or the children of their children.
Doesn't matter. I have to kill someone from his line. Just for hilarity's sake.

After that... ale and wenches, I think. Yeah. Ale and wenches would be good.

>>14654675
My own character from my current campaign.

"The night began with us losing eight hours of memory and ended with the Boston Metropolitan Museum of Art wrecked. I got the memory back, and decided to tag the museum with a local gangsign so they'd take the fall. Hey, just because I obey the Seven Laws doesn't mean I have to be a girl scout."

you find a journal with of a rather boring person who seemed to be an exceedingly bad alchemist, the last line written is hastily scrawled and smudged

oh god why did i take that offer should of remembered nothing is free

"I prepared explosive runes this morni-

"You are the chosen" well balls to that, it was good up north, hunting, boozing, wenching, wearing nothing but furs.

But no, I had to go questing and be a big fancy hero, get my name sung in sagas and things like that.

Then that confounded mage decided he needed someone to talk to and wasted three wishes on making me SMART.

Now I'm a smart barbarian, but I didn't get smart in time enough to see that this chosen bullcrap is a freaking nightmare.

welp. gotta go, they need me to go stand in front and get the bejesus kicked out of me again.

That fucking cleric never mentions that just because he can heal the most grievous of injuries DOES NOT MEAN IT DOES NOT FUCKING HURT.

I hate my job.

We ran into another band of goblins today, somewhat unexpected, since the last goblin we interrogated said we have slain most of his tribe's fighting folk in our little skirmish. Wulfgar continues to disappoint in trying to grasp the idea of stealth. The goblins were ready for us by the time we emerged from the underbrush. I had given the order to stick together, but I took to the air the moment I appraised the goblins' forces, which included many archers and one obvious leader.

Turns out the front ranks also had vials of acid readied. With my scales nearly melted off, I touched down by the goblins' leader, and began the carnage. He was very tough, and his lackeys actually managed to wound me once or twice, but in the end, I prevailed, slaying many. Meanwhile, Wulfgar, Kel and Alex took care of the other half of the force. Kel's ghostly hammers were of great help in the downing of the head goblin, who just kept healing himself in order not to die.

Two or three survivors of the battle fled into the wilderness. We let them, and organized the loot and corpses. The leader was alive, thanks to my quick thinking, and Kel's quick healing, so we're proceeding with the interrogation. I hope he knows something about these subversives inciting the goblins to attack and supplying them with weapons.

>>14656212
write it anyway even if you don't post it. practice.

"I met the worst people ever. These people should not be left with children. Last time that happened, the poor girl got herself blown up. They have no real concept of pure morality, the elf is an arrogant motherfucker, their gunslinger got herself killed, and they had two more people that were blown up before I could come across them, along with that poor child."
The character in question is a cleric who runs an orphanage.

>>14656339
Well, I did already write it, I was just hemming and hawwing over posting it. I probably won't, but as you said, it was good practice.

Today we killed some weird shit. Speeders with half droid, half human pilots actually wired into the seats. We also found a video of their memories...

A factory, a giant droid factory. If they could be called droids. The sick and weak are dismembered and "enhanced" with droid parts. This is the worst abomination I've seen the CIS perform in all my missions. As soon as we can find transport, we're getting off this rock, contacting the Council, and heading to Coruscant. I must speak with Chancellor Palpatine.

It's been a couple of weeks since we left Sargava on the Kalabuto road. Crossing the edge of the Laughing Jungle was relatively simple, since the densely wooded area was still a couple of miles away and only the odd big cat or tropical bird disturbed us. Our guide, Mogashi of the Bekyar tribe, was silent for most of the journey, but kept mumbling something about "the apes, the fucking apes". That's about as much I know of the local cant. These Bekyar are rumored to some kind of slavers, but Mogashi seems to be more concerned with bashing in skulls and drinking taverns dry. My kind of guy.

Nevertheless, Sargava is a beautiful area, brimming with life and savage grace. That is, if we didn't keep finding haunted mines, brain-eating ape bears, furious local druids and whatever spring up each time we "look for a shortcut".

Fuck this place. Once we get to Tazion or whatever it's called, I'm calling it quits with this gang and heading out with the Red Mantis. Sasha is way too sassy to pass by.

Data-Entry 5501,

I think this is the most overused point in this entire log, but here we go again. Elves, while slightly good fucks, are, for the lack of a better word, assholes, assholes on a scale that even makes fuckin Dragons seem sensible, Heck, ive talked to Xeno-AI's that made more sense then some of members of this obnoxious species.

Our latest run went south with afterburners after the idiot thought it prudent to try and sweet-talk himself into a special deal with Mr. J.. Clusterfuck dont even come close to covering the shit that went south. I have developed a strong dislike over exploding things, and I think that sentiment is shared in our little group. Not that I can trust any of them, any farther then I can trow them, but that is why I have sprites keeping tabs on them. The Mage is going to be a bitch to bring down, but she is quite flexible.. Shit.. Signing off.

Bumping for a chance to read.

I'm glad that i could save the people from the prison. I think I've taken the role they've placed me in very well. I mean, there can't be all that much involved in playing up the act of being the deity of a nation? Especially considering I came in their direst need of being imprisoned. I just hope my friend won't mind me "borrowing" his horse. After all, I need a mounted herald.

I'M HIGH AS FUCK ON GHOSTFIRE POLLEN, KILLED ME SOME MUTHAFUCKIN' POSSESSED ARBITES THOUGH. HOPE THIS IS LEGIBLE, KEEP BLEEDING THROUGH MY PORES.

Dear Diary,
Well, it's official. My penis turned me into a heretic.
I never expected it to go like this, but I can't say I regret it. I never even considered the idea that xenos had biological anomalies similar to us, but by the throne they were twins. Particularly well built twins too. And ever so curious. Always asking questions like "How does it work?", "Can you show us?", and "My goodness, has it gotten warm in here?". And their tongues! Dear God-Emperor, their tongues! The things they can do would send even that tincan of a techpriest into fits!
I always imagined that heresy would hurt. This was not the way I imagined it. The Inquisitor tells me the execution will take place in the morning, and has given me the evening to repent. I'm sorry. Really I am. But I really can't say I regret it. Oh well, time for one last fap...

THAT LITTLE FUCKING SHIT.

HE KNEW THE ENTIRE TIME. THE. ENTIRE. TIME.

That spineless bastard thinks he can just magic his name away from any written document? Ha! Well, too bad for [REDACTED], I know his little secret. I know there are eldritch things after him too, and his time is almost up.

Better get that info from him first, though. Don't want him slipping through my fingers like last time. We got maybe 3 months before that floating undead planet THING comes sailing by, this Atropos, so we've much to prepare.

I'd best talk with the Pygmie. Perhaps his astral travels have brought some answers.

"Found space station on the edge of a system. Luckily there was a hive world nearby so we could stock up on stupid hive gangers willing to do anything for a few thrones. The good news is I plan on charging their families for the lost equipment when they all inevitably die!

Glory to the Imperium, and to good profit!"

August 16th, 1926

Dear Diary,

Went to the USO show, of course. Like hell I was going to sit back and let some other guy claim to be the Empire's best pilot. He was pretty good, though - the American pilot was too, actually - but I still felt like I needed a heart to heart with him.

At halftime I went to the performer's tent, and who do you think was there? Crow! Son of a bitch. I followed him in and immediately got into a fight with him, not even noticing the other pilots. Fucker still owes me his plane.

Eventually Tom-san - that's the American pilot - shamed Crow out of the tent and then I realized the fool I had made out of myself and apologized immediately. Tom-san smiled, and then...

Hironobu Saigou. Personal pilot to the emperor. I thought I'd hate the guy, but he was so sweet and pleasant and he was a great pilot. He said that I had to be pretty impressive to become pilot since I'm a woman - which I am, duh, but still. He said he'd be honored if I'd show him my skills some time.

I-I think I'm in love.

Then the British army attacked and ruined everything.

>>14660818
>>14660818

exxplain

ITT: Journals

*splorp*

"The stars shine brightly on me now; all I have to do is think bad thoughts at someone, and they burn with white light! I simply whispered the name of one of the stars at our enemy's lieutenant, and he melted into the ground! I am truly blessed, and must share the luck and power that the stars have gifted to me with all I meet."


(1st level Star Pact Warlock)

>>14660934
Not much to explain really. Met two rather attractive xeno sisters (some sort of snake-people) while we were exploring some ancient and supposedly uninhabited ruins. Turns out there were a whole bunch of them down there. They were friendly enough and hadn't seen humans since their own ancient history. The twins took a liking to me and were rather interested in the anatomy of people who don't have tails. A few failed willpower rolls later, and the little head is thinking instead of the big one. Then blam.

"Raise dead costs HOW MUCH? Jesus Christ, leave her dead."

Custom DH Campaign I'm in. Really odd and stange so far.

Journal of Mordeci Severus, Guardsman of the 351st Verekan
Day... (many a number scrawled and marked out) forget it.

You know those who say working for the Holy Ordos said it is great to serve the Emperor through them? Screw 'em. I've been working with the Ordo Hereticus for at least a few months on this hell hole of a planet and I thought it couldn't get any worse. I'm greatful right now for the medic and techpreist of this damn noble. An Emperor-forsaken scum with a melta torn my right arm off!

Well, after I recovered by the shock of a lost limb, he gained a new navel and nostril. Earned that meltagun and the doc and cogboy are installing my new arm right now. Course I'm going to have a good time witht this baby. Oh crap here comes the high and mighty noble and -"

(Page torn)

"Great! I get to romp in a sewer now."

Dear diary,

remember that halfling assassin we showed mercy last time? Yeah, I wish we hadn't; the bitch rallied a whole frelling syndicate of evil around her (most of them being villains we crossed and foiled along the course of our adventures), waging what would best be described as all-out war against us. Last time I ever trusted the word of a LAWFUL recurring antagonist. Sheesh.

So anyhow, the proverbial shit had hit the fan - we were grossly outnumbered, outwitted. Our fearless leader was mired in scum, our munchkin warlock was lying in a pool of his blood not 10 seconds into the fight, the rest of us trying hard to keep our sorry hides intact. And I had those voices clawing at my mind, yet again, telling me to gorge myself on the flesh of friend and foe alike. Worst. Migraine. Ever.

Well, despite all odds, we somehow managed to turn the tide of the battle. Barely. Gory details aside, we managed to subdue the assassin, and YET again she pleaded for her life. The party leader, no longer daunted by her petty attempts, gave me the courtesy of killing the bitch, she was primarily after me, after all. And then the warlock strolls in, all casual-like, having woke up from his bloodied comatose state, and guess what he does, dear diary? That's right, he melts the assassin's face off, then and there. Now, you must believe that I had kept the voices in check throughout the whole battle, keeping in mind my comrades and their well-being, but seeing his selfish munchkin behaviour, a part of me simply snapped. I really, REALLY wanted to be the one to deal the final blow.

>>14666207 contd.

Luckily for the warlock, I only proceeded to bitchslap him back into unconsciousness. I was still foaming at the mouth, however. And yet fate has a mysterious way of working all things out; as we were busy collecting the spoils of our victory, I noticed that one druid (a female elf who harassed us on many an occasion during our travels) had eluded death. She was in bad shape, I will not lie, a miserable wretch hanging onto life by a thread. I could see that she was in a world of pain, so I offered her a way out. But as I lifted my greatax to deliver the final blow, the voices swarmed over my will like never before. The ax clattered onto the cobbled stone beside me.

I undid the flap of my breeches.

...

Turns out a well-endowed member to the eye works just as well as a sharpened dagger to the throat. I got my revenge.

>>14666215

Talk about getting ahead.

"Dear Diary.

I fucking HATE Changelings.

-Signed, Cleric of Silver Flame"

>>14650603
Mutterings about murder on the first entry along with some bloody fingerprints. The rest of the book is ruined by being soked in rum, piss and cum. Protip: it's a drunken barbarian.

"Must have black out, last thing i remember was eating some food at the space port..

Apparently we encountered some predatory creatures who attacked me, the jedi and the blind force user, while leaving the rest of the party unscathed, guess it's just my bad luck, ANyways, shit got worse, our guide was kidnapped by a bunch of scaled assholes in robes and then these creatures kept grabbing and dragging people into the woods, I almost got to kill that fucking o'bese who fucked me out of all those credits a few years ago, luckily something teared his enviro-suit so he's going to have a pretty slow death.

Anyways, we're lost in the woods of Dathamer and I feel like there's something more then just tribals on this planet, something in my gut is not feeling all right.."

S.Lane, ex storm trooper, with awakening force powers, Bounty hunter on the trail of Det Malan and some crime lord from Nal Hutta, under the service of Ba'Kar, twi'lek, crime baron and over bad middle eastern stereotype by my middle eastern friend.

>>14667960
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Dear diary,
the Prince did not allow us to slay the dragons. I do not care if they are 'the good guys', a dragon of any color scale is still a dragon! So, I put on my face paint... you know, diary, the face paint I really like? I put that on, and I didn't sleep that night, because there was work to be done...
So in the night, while the Prince and everyone else was sleeping, I crushed all the eggs, and I killed a few of the young ones. I was wearing my face paint though, so they'll never figure out it was me who did it.
I hate dragons, diary, you know I do.

>First off, lets pretend that he can write....

Dear diary,

Sadly, I have still not found the person who have stolen my bag of heads. I suspect that girl, So-Rude-lean or something, of doing it as she has always been secretly jealous of them and doesn't want me to show off my hats in town... But on the bright side, I was able to obtain a box of toys which I have been having fun with (the orphanage wanted me to throw them out, saying they were broken, how ridiculous is that?) as well as a new horse! Plus I am well on my way to replacing my head collections and fashioning new hats.

On another note, the play that me and the devil woman were performing in was fun... I was worried since I was having trouble finding my motivation as a donkey and the director would often sigh in a sad way after he talked to me... But that didn't matter as goblins attacked through the performance and made things fun! At first I was confused though since everyone had told me during rehearsals it was BAD to smash things on stage with my hammer, but the devil woman told me I should so I did... In the end, I got to collect a few more heads and no one said anything about me keeping the donkey costume... It comfy.

Now though, my pal (he's a paladin!) and Rude have been arguing about when to kill a bunch of goblins... She keeps accusing him of being a 'black-gird' or something like that, but I know she is lying cause he told me he was a paladin, and paladins don't lie. Hopefully it will all sort itself out in the end and we can go soon... I can't wait to smash some more goblins!

...My character DOES keep a journal.

Heres an extract from the latest entry:

"Note to self, Barbarian notably resilient to poison. Ranger suspects something, apply liberal use of charm person.

I hate gnolls."

"I hope that these mind flayers are a good investment. I can feel Master's life waning. No time to think and reflect anymore.

...this would have been so much easier if everyone hadn't already defected. Whatever, I just have to move faster than the warforged."

637 K. Morndas, 45th Elen.

On my travels throughout this peculiar world, I stumbled upon the most magnificent sight. A magical lagoon, bristling with an eerie azure glow. "It's best I leave it alone, not to tempt the Gods into making my existence worse".
Yet, as I walked away I felt something reaching for my leg, looking down, I saw a beautiful creature, seemingly made of the same water the lagoon was filled with. My curiosity needed to be sated, and I decided to ask the creature it's name, it replied in a siren-like voice: "Hinde".

"Hinde". The name sounded throughout my head. "Hinde".

I've decided to learn more about this magically alluring creature. This study will definitely take alot of time, so I have set up camp, nearby.

My curiosity must be sated.
-Beren

PS:I wonder where Lyta might be.

We just got done slaying the ants out of the iron mines. My great magical 2-hander, +3 vs bugs really clean the house, and my arm hurled true my tridents into the heads of those black devils. In the depths of the mine my boar head codpiece stunned and amazed the wizardess into awe and she fled before she felt the urge to be ravaged my my manly girth hidden beneath. Today was a good day for K'cirar

woke up today with little memory of yesterdays events, my companions say I partied a little too hard but I think they're hiding something, anyways we are planning to to break into an island fortress that no one as returned from, EVER, in order to get the book of fate, so we can wright a new chapter in it, so we can stop a god like entity known as FEAR from invading our dimension.

HOLY SHIT I JUST ONE-SHOOT A FUCKING TANK!!! I SO DAMN AWESOME AND I WAS'NT EVEN AIMING!

Dear Journal,

After a month of wandering through those gods-forsaken caves, we found our way out, and after another month's hiking, the entire party is home. I found an armoured apparatus that resembles a golem. It is strange in that it requires a pilot. I've been studying the device's workings, and I think it may be possible to develop something similar, but of my own design. In other news, there appears to be some demand for the establishment of a standing defense force rather than relying on ad hoc militia. Unfortunately, we are a mountain pass away from a realm full of malicious jerkasses. If I could reverse engineer it, this machine seems like an ideal force multiplier. Well, off I go to the workshop, then the hookah den(I may as well be comfortable while getting reliable intelligence on the deteriorating situation in the elven forests).

-From the journal of an exiled catfolk nobleman, date unknown.

"I know the true secret of the ninja now. They're not a bunch of hooligans in funny clothes that sneak around the dark a lot. No. They're the takoyaki vendor, the mama-san in the geisha house, that magistrate with the stupid bird-shaped armor. Everywhere I look it's a ninja looking back. But I'll be alright, I still have the upperhand. If I lie low, they won't notice me. Just give me some time, I'll be able to get to the bottom of this."

I do that anyway so that the Great Library can record our adventures and the results of any of my new research. That said:

The past few days have been eventful. We came upon a village of monks who are devotees of the concept of clear, rational thought, something I greatly respect. It became clear upon our entry that we were being observed, and the observation became tighter once we informed them of our intent to slay Glastig. It seemed that Glastig considered himself the owner of this village. The monks weren't particularly bothered by this, as he didn't interfere with their lives as long as they didn't harbor adventurers too long. We were given a night. I met with the village chief, who showed me tablets they had made of other parties that had attempted our quest (pressings enclosed). Some of them I recognized. I admit I was intimidated upon seeing how many had failed, and that many of them appeared to be better equipped than we were. Regardless, we had come too far to retreat.
The next day, we advanced to Glastig's mountain. The party was nervous about the climb, but I pulled out the Lyre of Building and suggested we take the stairs instead. All of my practice must have paid off, because I got two hours out of it for the first time. It still didn't quite get us to the top, but in another first, I cast Spider Climb. I must admit the material component turned my stomach slightly, but it enabled me to ease my companions' journey to the top.

>>14668460
As we ventured into Glastig's lair, his hoard was displayed threateningly: Each adventurer he had defeated was encased in a pillar of ice. We had no time to excavate any of their gear because as expected, Glastig had anticipated our arrival. Unexpectedly, however, Glastig was a full grown adult. It appears the previous data I had collected on him was inaccurate. Also surprising was that Essia LaHelm wasn't with him. He stated that she had been there recently, which raised a few eyebrows. He then engaged us with some intimidating banter, but we stood our ground.

>>14668482
Combat began. Prior to the fight, I had given Borden Stonetongue the fully charged Necklace of Fireballs III, which I had been saving for just this occassion. I had considered just setting the whole thing off like a bomb, but decided it was too risky and a potential waste of resources. Borden spent the better part of the fight throwing those, which suited his defensive combat style just fine. Venitas Kii used several Produce Flame spells, and summoned some allies. My spellbook was somewhat lacking for this combat. I cast Haste to begin, of course, but my Slow failed and I had no use for the Dispel Magic I had prepared. Ephram Bronzeguard and Winstin fought valiantly as always. Ephram fell in the fight. Glastig laughed menacingly and asked me who I would revive if I had to choose between Ephram and my mother. The decision weighed heavy on my mind, but I stayed focused, remembering the monks' tenets. It was clear we were nearing victory, and Glastig was making his way toward the exit, obviously aiming to take a bite out of me on his way out. In a bit of providence, I had a few Web spells prepared, which slowed his progress. When he finally made it to me, I was surprised to see that he overran me instead of attacking. He took to the air, I threw a Magic Missle, Venitas tossed her last Produced Flame, and to our elation, Glastig fell from the sky. The fall probably finished him off, but I threw a few more Magic Missles at him for good measure. We collected the treasures (attachment II), and in the back of the cave found our third teleportation fountain. It became obvious where Essia had gone. Unfortunately, we could not take immediate pursuit, as Ephram needed tended to.

>>14668495
We descended the mountain, collecting Glastig's head on our way as proof of our deed, and returned to the monastery, where they expressed their gratitude to us. We asked if they knew anyone capable of reviving our fallen companion. We were introduced to The Master of Life and Death, who keeps his name a secret. Normally he requires a great deed to perform such an act, but our slaying of Glastig met the prerequisite. Ephram was returned to us, and The Master said we could work out some sort of arrangement for my mother at a later date. We prepared to continue our pursuit of Essia, with three new spells added to my spellbook.

Hoping as always to write you in the future with further updates, Damen Armitage.

Dear Journal:

So, turns out there's a giant hoarde of undead massing to the south. So I decided to rejoin civilization, and try to point them towards the big bad darkness before it - you know - ate them. It's not that I really care, but my forest is even further north of them, which means after they're gone there's nothing to stop the hoardes from swallowing my refuge as well.

I thought, 'win win', right? They know the big bad evil is coming, they get to stop it, and I might toss around a few spells to see if I can't help.

So I wave, and tell 'em I'm going to go tell the next town over too. You know, more the merrier when it comes to fighting the undead hoardes.

Then they stuck me in this fucking cell for being a traitor to their nation by giving the other town a fighting chance.

Fuckers. Tomorrow, I'm wild-shaping the hell out of here. I think I'll piss in their well too on the way over.

Personal log of Tarvosh Dagra, of the Storm Warden's Third Company, seconded to the Deathwatch of the Jericho Reach.

319.883.M41

The mission to [EXPUNGED] was a success. My kill team decapitated and crushed the genestealer cult in the cavernous underhives, and amongst the crumbling nethercity we exterminated the largest of the remaining cabals.

The Tyranid synapse creatures and vanguard organisms were likewise felled with blessed flame, bolter, and blade. We had encountered a new lictor strain - monstrous and terrible, standing at thrice the height of an Astartes and just as deadly.

Luckily, we numbered greater than three.

Assault brother Rofn of the Blood Angels had led the assault - his expertise in close quarters combat and unquenchable fury proved to be an example that we all strove to emulate in some fashion. Devastator Ragnvald and his missile launcher unleashed the fury of plasma warheads, keenly fired to shape the flow of enemy movement to ad hoc kill zones, which were then cleansed by Devastator Severus's heavy flamer.

I provided surgical eliminations with my bolter, utilizing the aptly selected Kraken ammunition to lay waste to quarter-score lictors before they had the chance to engage my team. I have collected trophies in the forms of scything talons, their tips broken off and bound by straps to my belt. They fit nicely next to the cracked face-plate of the Dark Eldar Incubi warrior I had slain during the previous mission.

As always, the righteous wrath of Apothecary Kordel stayed the unclean touch of the Tyranid beasts, either through mending the venomous wounds they inflicted upon us or preventing them entirely by engaging and slaying the xenos creatures with chain and power blade. I know of few finer examples of Apothecary, even amongst the ranks of my own chapter.

Imagine that... me, a traitor?

I could go along, I suppose. Take orders, continue to ascend this bloody staircase carved of innocents. I-I believed in the system, the Inquisition. I believed the galaxy was a good place and we could keep it that way. But the Inquisitor... I see very little difference between him and those we hunt. All that remains is a dead wake left in our stead, and the blood is on my hands.

I sleep very little and eat even less, in everything I do I am reminded of their faces. I can hide from the galaxy, I can hide from the truth... but I cannot hide from myself, and every passing day this gun looks friendlier and a bullet my remaining chance for redemption.

There is only one path before me, and if killing the Inquisitor will offer me only peace of mind before I end this life, then so be it. I cannot imagine that I have any chance of living after committing such a traitorous act, but I have lived my life on my own terms and will end it all the same.

So... am I an traitor? There's only one way to find out.

>>14668728

Alas, our victory was bittersweet.

We had departed for the mission knowing that another kill-team had been dispatched before us. Contact with them was lost, for a duration suggesting their annihilation.

Within the discordant passageways and under ruins of battles past we had found our fallen brothers. The Blood Angel [REDACTED], and the Space Wolf [REDACTED].

However, the Ultramarine Meridius was found under the ruins of a collapsed sub-structure, still only just clinging to life. Apothecary Kordel had stabilized him, Emperor be praised, but his life was still near its end.

It was unanimously agreed that brother Meridius would be removed from this unfitting grave, a task that I swore to facilitate on the honor of myself and my chapter.

This task was accomplished with minimal complication. Brother Meridius was returned to the Deathwatch, but not before he parted with a relic that he deemed that he would no longer require.

His helm, an ancient MK.II component was bequeathed to brother Severus. I think it is fair to say that we are all in awe of the artifact, as it may have seen the visage of He On Terra during the Great Crusade, and seen victories uncountable in the long millennia since.

There are rumors circulating that brother Meridius will be interred in a Dreadnought sarcophagus to continue his vigil. God-Emperor knows that such a bolstering of the Erioch Deathwatch's offensive capability would be welcomed without condition.

Thought for the day: Victory and defeat are rewarded justly.

My most recent character is illiterate. His pet yak is not. The yak can't write because he has no hands. No journal here.

bump

If my character could actually write well he would probably write something like this.

"I can't believe both my companions and the city guards completely missed the disappearance of EVERY beggar in the entire city. Brian seems to the only one who cares they are gone, I'm pretty sure he is the one the beggars called the Crime Lord. I just hope he can find Floré for me or I swear I will take him down myself.
-Sir Oswald"

If my paladin kept a journal, it would probably go something like this:

"Met a god. Outran storm cloud made of ghost warriors. Jumped on a rocket covered in fleeing wizards. Rocket turned into a small squirrel four stories up. Used archwizard to break fall. Completely failed to give a fuck. Hitched a ride with the ghost warriors to pick up my friends who were being freed from imprisonment by an army of pirates (the pirates were doing the freeing not the imprisoning). Killed evil merchant prince. Continued failing to give a fuck."

Long day of mucking across some misty moors, following the directions of some little Dwarven woman. Damn little legs, I'm used to moving so much faster than this but her stride is keeping me slow...

It doesn't bother me overly much when I think about it, gives us more camping time. Which is more time for me to ply her for information and learn a bit more about her. Dwarves aren't readily friendly with Gnolls afterall, and getting her to open up and relax somewhat has been challenging. She likes the finer things in life, though, so despite any misgivings, I'm backing her up on the trip to the fortress. Should be more than profitable for the two of us.

...She's too damn attractive than she has any right to be. It's distracting. Considerably so, but oh well... I have more than enough gold to keep me pleased, so it's not like I agreed to this just for the wealth. How often do you find a good Dwarven rogue? She's spectacular with traps, with an ass I could eat off of. She'd kick my ass up and down the hilltops if she read this diary, heh. But its hard not to watch it when she's working, seeing as how I gotta sit behind and wait. So what is a red-blooded Alpha supposed to do?! Well, claim her, I know, but these damn 'civilized' societies got this thing about... 'courtship' I believe. And not all the women want instant action! They need to wear a sign, or have more decipherable scents.

...

Damn woman can drink me under the table! It's getting more and more difficult to resist but after last night, I guess I am not doing too much wrong. Maybe my claws gripped her rear wrong, or I don't know what, but ah, damn my head is aching today. She is keeping her distance a bit ahead, though, I swear... those hips are shaking more...

bumpity

Here's my character's latest journal entry about the session I had yesterday:

***

I've just come back from a visit with a White Council Warden named Christopher Marrol over in Dover Shore. Yomiko told him everything about the drug we've been tracking and the attacks on me and Carlos, but I'm not sure if he totally bought it. I'm surprised he didn't recognize me either. Or maybe he did, but didn't say anything. Whatever.

Still, he gave us the name of the wizard that killed Marie - Markus Degroot. He told us it was a fake name, but it's something to go on for now. We left Markus's staff with him so he could track him down - apparently he's a mass murderer, and the council hunts down anyone who breaks the laws of magic like that. (That's how Carlos met Marrol, actually - when his powers awakened, Marrol came over and threatened to splatter him if he screwed up.)

I feel like we shouldn't trust him. He doesn't LOOK like someone you can trust. But wardens should be bound by the same rules as other wizards, right? If he tries anything, the Council will drop down on him like a bat out of hell. I just hope nothing drops down on us while we're investigating...but if anyone needs my help, I'll be there, no questions asked.

All right, time to make dinner. Sick of ramen, but there's not much I can do about it right now. At least I've finally got some fresh fruit, so that'll be a change of pace for once.

I just wonder what Yomiko was thinking. Looks to me like she has an idea. I probably won't like it.

bump

Journal entry ... Tuesday?

Progress on the blight is slow. While I am at my shop I will investigate the samples I took but I fear that time is working against me. As well as my fellow man...

I don't trust the cleric. His repeated attempts on the party's lives suggests a complete disregard for the teachings of his goddess. I have to wonder why Iomadae still aids him. If we didn't need the church's help in this matter I would suggest leaving him behind. We will investigate the cliffs tomorrow. I swear to the gods if he pulls any more shenanigans I'm dropping a bomb right on his head.

Well, it's back to test tubes for me. I expect I'll be having another long night ahead.

"I managed to survive the nightmare trials with my sanity intact! I finally convinced Cresselia and Darkrai to stop feuding - or at least trying to kill each other. Cresselia asked me to be its champion, so I guess I'm the Knight of Dreams now as well as the Knight of the Mountain? I'm a double-knight, you could say! Tehehe!

Although, I'm kind of worried about it. Maxwell became Darkrai's champion ... does this mean we're going to have to fight or something? If Maxwell tries to thwart my route to becoming a top notch pokemon trainer, I'm not sure I can let him stand in my way.

The rest of the day went okay though. We finally set sail from Coral's Rest, and back north towards Pine Haven. Along the way, we found a floating island made of Corsola, Crustles, and Exeggutor and populated by other pokemon. I caught a particularly wet looking exeggutor! I'll have to think of a good name for my new companion as we sail into Pine Haven tomorrow.