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Cleric Journal: Day Fifty



Ever heard of a spell called magic missile? Neither had I, until Wizard Tim showed us the next time Stirges showed up. Seriously some of the coolest shooting I’d ever seen. He seemed fairly bored by it all, and our company. We told him he didn’t have to hang out with us.

Arrogance is not becoming in a leader or mentor, just saying. When I asked Tim for advice he looked me up and down, wrinkled his nose and stepped away from me, shaking his head. Then he proceeded to say some very not nice things. He’s a bully, I’m afraid to say. And I think he’s got some sleeping sickness. All he does when we make camp is sit on his arse and order us around. You’d think this was his quest, not mine. I was so made. Liz is mad, too. I think if Tim isn’t too careful the next time he calls her a Liz Turd she’s going to see how far she can stick her spear into him. Sure he’s been adventuring longer than Liz or I, but come on. There is no call for ridicule and harsh criticism.

We were significantly slower than I’d hoped now that we were on the ruins of the road. It was smooth with breaks every now and again, but it was those damned zombies he had following us. If I had the ability to raise them, I would just so they’d leave. And while the swamp is fetid, rotten elf and barbarian have a quality odor to them that overwhelms anything the swamp had to offer so far.

And this comes from a man who traveled with two zombie gnomes, one who had a leech sticking out of his eye. Come on.

I’m writing this on our lunch break. Did you know we had to take lunch stops now? It’s ridiculous. Also, Tim had better food than what he is sharing with us. He even has cheese, but he won’t share with us. Liz has never had cheese and I told her it was divine. Tim’s a big fat jerk. I’m too upset to continue writing now. I’ll finish this when we stop for dinner. After we do our chores of course.

You know, if Tim didn’t have an alarm spell, and know how to make things explode or kill them with magic arrows that shoot from his fingers, he may not like what happens the next time he demands I fetch wood and Liz catch a fish. Bastard. I’m really starting to think maybe the dragon was victim here.   This guy is an arrogant douche canoe.

Raining again and Tim is just complaining about not finding a tavern so he could refill his ale. He had ale, and cheese. Did I mention the cheese?

We stopped in another ruined tower, but this one had nothing to do with our order. At least there were no undead running around, and no altars or such that I ever saw. Liz said there were towers like this in other parts of the swamp where the old empire had watchmen to guard the roads. That was long before her great, great, great grand dame was hatched, so a very long time ago. Tim said she was a savage but we had a warm place to camp for the night. Others had used this as a way point before. There were carvings on the wooden lintel and several symbols painted in yellows and reds along one wall.

Tim was curious about those but quickly determined they were the mark of kobolds, but that they were very old and we shouldn’t worry. I had never heard of kobolds. Surprisingly, the talking heads came to my rescue. I was out gathering some purple berry that Tim demanded he wanted for his dinner and I was debating pissing on the whole lot when the heads started talking to me again. Apparently I was mumbling as I plucked berries and the heads took it as I was asking them a direct question. Kobolds are small lizard like people who worship dragons and are evil. Evil is such a harsh word, but the heads assured me they truly were. That they were a serious bother and/or nuisance, I was having trouble determining the correct words from the heads. Basically don’t try to parlay with kobolds, kill them on sight. It was nice advice. That’s when I realized that I had been putting the berries I’d picked into the same satchel as the heads and that they’d eaten more than half of them. I was tired and wanted to go rest, so I would just give up my share of the berries and let Tim have all that I had.

Of course Tim called me a sluggard and spat on my feet. I watched him for a bit and came to realize that maybe the reason Tim knew that those symbols were related to kobolds was because Tim was evil as well.

How else would you explain how mean he was. Tomorrow I’m going to head back into the swamp with Liz. Tim can just bite me.

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What I'm Reading


D&D 5E Player’s Handbook


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The wild ox; strength and power.


Creativity; words, music, and art.


The troll cross; wealth and prosperity.


The sun; energy, honor, guidance.


Personally earned or lucky wealth and prosperity.


The harvest; patience and promise.


The chariot; journey and travel.

Note: This is not the real book cover.