Hoi Journal! It has been some time since I have collected my thoughts and committed them to parchment. Luckily we have had a short break in the events recent where I can write in relative safety.

So the camp turned out to be a bust. Upon arriving, things looked less optimistic than I anticipated, what with bodies strewn about in haphazard fashion. As we searched the camp, we were attacked by yet another "damsel in distress" and her friends. This time there was much chanting (with some wailing and shrieking mixed in) and an attempt in bringing a large stone figure to life. We seem to be beset on all sides by living stone as of late. In any case, the party made short work of the lady of ill intentions and began to search the camp. Well, through a stroke of luck (Desna be praised), we happened to find our "minder" Ellard stumbled out of a tent in a state of dismay and shock.

Unfortunately with the camp's only living occupants being us, our fashionable sigils have remained upon us. Not to fear, Journal, for Ellard has pointed us to a scholarly group that can assist us. To the city we go! I'm sure this will all work out just fine.

Journal, I now scribble on you via an invisible hand. The city appears to be under some sort of curfew and we arrived to the city late. Naturally, we attempted to find lodgings but we were not able to secure any. Now normally, I would just sleep wherever seemed safest (on a roof, in a barrel, etc etc.), but I have my companions to consider now. Luckily my stalwart associates were still in possession of the magical dirt and we now sleep in a cozy alley without the pesky worry of being mauled by eldritch creature of the night. Hence my invisible scrawls! Tomorrow we shall head for the temple and see about removing these death marks.

Not much time to record this, as I am about to plunge into a forest to scout for my party. The scholars seemed eager to help us and also offered to translate the massive tome that Ellard had been carrying. All they wanted in return was us to go flower picking in a field. What could be simpler?

So our afternoon picnic turned out to be more headache for me than I initially thought it would be. I found the clearing with little issue, but I like to think I know a trap when I see one. Well, Journal, this most certainly gave off that trap feeling. So we discussed our next move. My brilliant cousin came up with a brilliant idea. He summoned a most handsome bird and commanded it to go pick the flower and bring it back here. It successfully snagged the flower but awoke a vine beast in the process. Rashamon (who I was unaware was such an animal lover) charged in to save the helpless creature. This seemed to have a opposite of soothing effect on the vines and I felt compelled to try and provide a distraction so Rashamon could beat a hasty retreat. It worked for a while, but I become drowsy shortly thereafter. I awoke as I smashed into a tree limb and fell to the ground. Flower secured! Sure, I had a big knot on my skull and was walking with a limp for a while but our reward is close at hand. I'm sure this will all work out fine.

Journal, we seem to be fated to find bodies strewn about. Upon our triumphant return to the scholars, we saw that our friendly benefactors had been rend into a neatly arranged pile. Naturally, this was a cause of dismay but as luck would have it Ellard again stumbled out of one of the rooms, semi translated tome in hand. So now as we pondered what to do it became apparent that the city guard was en route. Our friendly minder was quite distraught and bolted from the building. Naturally, some of my companions were concerned for his mental, physical and spiritual well being, which caused them to give chase immediately. Greyjaw, Roku, Sonny and myself gave chase shortly thereafter. I guess we underestimated how close the city guard was because we found all exits blocked by them and them calling for our surrender for execution.

Now I don't know about you Journal, but I try to avoid being executed. Especially when I'm already marked for a slow agonizing magical execution. So after a light scuffle (no guards were harmed), we retreated back into the temple and locked the door. Instead of the head on approach, we decided that escaping was probably a more graceful solution to our problems. Upon inspection of the area, we saw a walled garden in the back of the temple that seemed clear of any pesky guards. I clambered over the wall and awaited my fellows in the alley. It seemed to be taking quite a while for my friends to climb over a wall that at their head height but I reminded myself that crocodiles aren't made for climbing.

Now word on the street was that our companions had been seen leaving the city out one of the gates and we were determined to follow them. Unfortunately, the nature of their exit had caused a great deal of commotion and the guard were alert and patrolling the area. Sonny then raised his friend, Edgar the skeleton. I don't know much about skeletons, Edgar seemed a purpose and drive that is usually missing from magically animated piles of bones. Sonny promptly dowsed Edgar in oil and set him on fire. A distraction we needed and a distraction Edgar provided. As he ran around the edge of the square by the gate, flailing and flaming, guards were naturally curious as the cacophony of screams increased in volume. Were a few houses caught on fire? Sure. Was there a chance that the entire city could burn to the ground? Maybe, but I had faith in Edgar. I'm sure Edgar knew what he was doing. Through some magical means involving flying, we managed to get over the wall and began pursuit of our wayward party members. Away we go, Journal!

I have seen things people wouldn't believe, Journal. I just recently saw a flaming skeleton smashing into wooden beams outside of Tannhauser gate. Now I caught in some sort of mystical forest that branches in two directions. My companions noticed a pattern emerging and guided us to a clearing. Now this clearing seemed much more cozy and comfortable than some of the other recent clearings, so we went in and began exploring. For some strange reason, people seem dead set on accusing me of things that I had nothing to do with. This googled lady, emerged from some shadows and accused me of stealing the mask from the early tree dungeon temple. Why would I do that? It would be counter productive to the whole endeavor of removing our glowing death sigils. Anyways, she brought some friends and they proceeded to pummel us. Sonny, summoned another one of his friends, Simon the skeleton. Unfortunately for Simon, he quickly became "Simon the shattered skeleton", if you take my meaning. Well, we managed to repel our attackers and made amends with the google lady. Apparently, it's our fault that some doom has been unleashed on the land and we have been recruited to stop it. Typical. Oh well, I'm sure this will all work out in the end.

Hoi. Just writing to say that I'm back in prison (again). Just when I thought I was done being hung upside from chains (I guess jailers find halfings hung upside down to be amusing), here I am again. It started innocently enough. After I had escaped those blasted slavers by luring them into the jaws of a waiting dire crocodile, I thought it prudent to praise Desna with a good stiff drink. As luck would have it, just as I was settling down to enjoy my libation a half orc sat down to me. Normally I try to give the big guys a wide berth, but this one seemed oddly familiar. Then it struck me! This was my 3rd cousin twice removed! I hadn't seen him since our last gathering 10 years prior. As we marveled at what chance had brought us together, we ordered a couple of more rounds to mark the occasion. One drink turned to too many, and we decided on a plan to establish our own kingdom! No more would outsiders be turned away! A place where halflings, half orcs and whoever else wants can live in harmony. I'm no statesman but that sounds pretty good to me. Anyways, we decided to start to be conquering that very establishment and now I'm hanging like a sausage from the rafters. It's a good thing I spent so many hours upside down prior. Otherwise I might have gotten a headache by now.

Desna preserve me! Who else but one of my former colleague was thrown in this cell with me. Good old Rogar Hammerfist! Still as fiesty as ever. After tossing 10 guards about, they finally managed to get him clapped in some irons on the wall. After he shared some choice words about the livelihoods of their mothers and comparing them to some beast of burdens, he laughed and sat down in what I take to be some meditative posture. Coiled like a very angry dwarven snake, he dared them to let them out of the chains. The guards shook their heads, nursed their bruises and shuffled out of the room (not before one of them gave me a shove so that I began to swing like a pendulum). As Rogar took stock of the situation around him, he glanced to see me swinging about, waving a friendly hello to him. We quickly got reacquainted and it turns out he was involved in the same scuffle that broke out in the drinking establishment that me and my cousin were at. Wonders never cease!

So I guess I am once again called into the service of some "mysterious benefactor". Apparently, my cousin, Rogar, myself and several others are to assist some noble recover some artifacts. I didn't mind (though he could have just asked and spared me the "under penalty of death" part) but some of my new companions were less than pleased. It's better than being batted around like a cat toy while trying to plot an escape. In any case, we all are now the proud owners of a glowing "death sigil" that shines even through our clothing. "Everyone will see that you have been marked for death and will steer clear of you!" our employer told us. I shrugged, all the same to me. Our party is now to escort some "minder" to some ancient ruin, so that he may find some stuff and then we get the sigil removed. I'm sure this time everything will work out.

Well, I better write this down before we head into this hole under the tree. On the way to our destination, we spotted what appeared to be some "damsel in distress". Rogar, ever the gentledwarf, rode out to see what assistance he could render. The "damsel in distress" though she could pull a fast one on our "Fists of Fury" but she didn't realize covering yourself in blood and having some poorly hidden Lizardfolk in ambush positions alongside the road is bound to catch someone's attention. Well, one thing lead to too many, and battle was initiated. I must say I am impressed with the skill and grit of our party. My own contribution was paltry in comparison to everyone else. Rogar seems to have improved immensely from our last collaboration. In any case, we won the day and now we stand before a big stone door with a gear on it. I'm sure this time it will be as easy as falling into bed after a long days work.

So we have successfully recovered the artifacts. The place was fairly standard for some place of worship built under a giant tree.
Cryptic messages engraved into stone tablets, check.
Doors trapped with giant axes (which I unwittingly disarmed), check.
Pit trap with some dull spikes on the bottom [ poor Roku )-: ], check.
Hidden altar that has a bag of dirt that turns things invisible, check.
Black monster tentacles that drop gold as they retreat into the walls, check.
Room that floods with water in the hopes the occupants drown, check.
Statues that come alive and rip pieces of themselves to use as projectiles, check.
Roof that is slowly collapsing, potentially burying everyone left inside alive, check.
All in all, pretty standard stuff. I did get tossed (which I do so enjoy...brings me back to my days of being an acrobat) and took a nasty knock on the head from the statue. I forgot that just trying to run under the legs of a 10 foot living statue is bound to not work out. As the rest of the party turned invisible with the magic dirt, I decided to try something a bit more dynamic to make my exit. Luckily we all survived, including my new friend Roku, and we are coming up on the camp were we shall be granted our freedom. I'm sure this will work out just fine.

Whoomp there it is

So I've decided to start post this dream and letting you dream analyst types have at it.

I just woke up from having this dream-

My friends, Collen, Robert and myself are sitting in the attic of a cafe in some unknown dirty city. I had just arrived from another dream involving a neon orange and purple spider dancing on someone's face. Of course everyone was filming with their smartphones, so they could load it up to Youtube. After the dancing spider, I entered the cafe and talked to the owner about how his day was going so far.

"Pretty weird!!!", he said.

What he didn't realize, and neither did I till this point, but the whole dancing spiders routine had been orchestrated by a group that I was working with to increase the number of strange things taking place in cafes around the city. This particular cafe today also had been serving just very tall people after breakfast exclusively. We are talking at least two standard deviations beyond the norm tall.

Anyways, I decide to start cooking up some food for hungry customers because I also work there now. Just then another spider drops down and falls next to the stove I'm using. Upon closer inspection, Haha just kidding... not an actual spider but a shrimp the cook behind me threw carelessly off her stove. The cook comes running over to me and starts opening some sour cream and peanut butter containers.

"Why did you buy more? I have two more containers" she said sourly, as she removed two extra containers of peanut butter.

"I didn't buy more! I bought those at least a month ago because I eat here all the time!"

Suddenly a reaction from the crowd broke out...http://www.soundsnap.com/node/108700

After I had taken the moral high ground in our argument...I went up to the attic of this cafe/diner.

Taking a seat I began to notice all the intricate spiderwebs around. A particular large one descended on Collen, at which point a bullet shrimp carrying a bottle of pop in it's tiny claws drops down on his leg.

Collen, ever so casually, brushes the shrimp off as if to say "Oh jeez, not this shrimp again guys..."

The shrimp scurries over to Robert and hands the bottle to him. He takes a good swig and hands the bottle to me.

This music begins to play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-FPimCmbX8
 at which point Robert, Collen, myself and the shrimp begin to dance.

I woke up, brushed the spiders out of my eyes, coughed up a few spiders, shook the spiders off my hands and decided to write this down.

Have at it folks!

(I actually didn't have to deal with any spiders in the morning)