Thorn Wiegraf The Mad

[Zorn]

*The following, large journal is written on dampened and crumpled papers in a rather disgusting looking book, and sometimes the words are hard to decipher. Regardless, you are still able to somehow make sense of what is written on each piece of paper. It seems that whoever has been writing has about the same sense of grammar as some low class brigand would have while speaking..."

Entry 1:

I daresay, the last few days 'ave been somewhat awkward. I've been helpin' some shining lass o' aumonteer , or some Sun God like that. I've been helpin' her spread some ridiculous weak god, that i'd never worship in an 'eartbeat. Running around and tellin' people the fall of Lathander is near is quite refreshing, as well, it is quite exciting. The nega-tiv-aty i've received from some o those Paladin types has been hilarious to say the least. Oh boy. They've all turned their backs N' even cursed me with their gods names. Whatever. Let the chaotic confusin' of my blasphemous tongue rot the minds o' the weak. I'll keep doin' it when I get the chance, but lately I toned it all done somewhat. . . people get sick o' it, and I get bored when nobody wants ta mess around with it.

Needless ta say, I ain't gone and made too many friends 'ere. Friends are for weak fools, though, so to hells with that way o' thinkin.

-the following notes seem too wet and damp to read, as if rain has destroyed the papers. Dirt and moss can even be seen on a few pages as well. You read out something about war parties and joining up with random people against lizardmen. There is also some mention about an Amnish person being slaughtered by a Flaming Fist guard in the Friendly Arms Inn-

What else am I gonna go on about? Ah ya, some Triad wretch I keep pesterin' was nearly murdered in cold blood, along with three other weaklings. Some follower of that fool Bane popped outta some bush , after he laughed ominous like with me for some time. I thought he' was a good guy 'n all... I reckoned that, cuz his methods n way of working were all so devious and evil... shadow-type man who comes out and murders ya in the night... then 'e has to go and announce he is some sorta member of the Bane cult. The hells with 'em damned Baneites and their weakling god. Should all convert over ta a more powerful god who doesn't go failing and gettin' his church destroyed by Triad fools. Anywayz, I asked the man in the dark who 'e was and who he served, then 'e basically wasted that party as I sat N' watched. At least that was amusin. Probably didn't come after myself, because my laugh was probably somewhat impressive.

After all that nonsense, I went 'n told some Triad members, with my twisted version o' the story. . . Those damned fruitcake paladins, telling me to shove off for not helpin the damned fools. To the hells with em all.

I joined up with some more fools to kill lizards and that like , in that forest. Nothing special, but at least to breathe once more in destruction was a refreshing thing.

One war party, we invited some retard-o mage. Oh, did I 'ave fun with him. I asked the guy if he wanted ta come, and he said something like "sorry I cannot speak english." The hells does mean? A language? I can speak the common tongue and Elven, but accordin ta my vast Lore N knowledge, English aint no language I ever heard of. Regardless, he followed us around for awhile. . . if he hadn't kept repeatin " sorry I cannot speak english" I woulda though 'em to be some mute...

Anyway. . we were just about finished with them lizard freaks, when 'e suddenly busted out some magical incantation. . A freakin' ZOMBIE. Yeah! Undead from the grave. That's when I figured "Heh, perfect opportunity ta kill me someone legally." So I called out "Oi, wretch, ya just signed yourself a one-way trip ta myrkul" and started attacking the sod. He naturally ran from my might after I struck him once with my spearhead, and of course, towards the Friendly Arms Inn like any o those damned fools would. Once there, I chased 'em around before blasting him with the most epic of lightning bolts I could muster, right there near the Inn itself. Oh, did I laugh as his body bursted inta thousands of sparks from my el-lec-tric-ety.

Some halfling dude 'or something told me i shouldn't murder infront o the Friendly Arms Inn, but I had every right.. . the entire time I chased the wretch I yelled that I was out chasin' a necromancer... I got-ta kill some undead calling , casting fool, as well as witness the death of an Amnish bastard in the Friendly arms Inn. What a glorious day the storm has brought in, I say.

Entry 2:
-scribbles begin here, with illegible writing-

I acquired some ol coin from a fire that silly priestess of Illmater dropped into the campfire... It's got some red triangle with antlers on it.. no idea what it means, but i'll probably keep it for a spin.. sure I'll remember more about it, but my head is hurtin' like mad.

I met a nice lass n' red near the Friendly Arms Inn. . . quite the body she has, and quite the charming attitude. Wonder if she'd ever consider an old gaffer liken' myself. Regardless, she is some sorta artist and she promised me ta paint me a picture of Chaos. . . some ol' storm on a piece of leather . . Yes, a scene of storm and destruction tearing apart some harbor, on a piece of parchment. Just gotta wait for it ta come back, and pay her commission. Damn the hells, she was fine indeed. Too bad she and everything 'else on this plane is going to be wrenched from their lives and blasted into destruction. . .

Nothing 'else really happened recently. Found some poisoned drinks, which i'll probably pack in some one's sack later for those giggles... Remember some acquaintance o' mine named Lotrik. .. talked to him, but.. completely forgot about what. I recall suddenly wakin' up near the friendly arms Inn with a gut wrenchin' splittin headache. . . . with people standin' about me like I had been beat senselessly. By the hells, I hope I was beaten! I may be aging, but I can't look weak. Good beatin' always does my scarred body some good.. just like that dwarven lass that ran her axe through my armour a few weeks back.. Can't get enough of the pain.... no pain no gain, as it is said. . .

*the remainder of Day 2 is written in elven curses, but make no logical or grammatical sense.*

Entry 3:

I got that lasses painting back. Ya, the one I wrote about earlier. The one that my good ol' fancy. She painted 'er on some parchment of leather. Damn the hells, this paintin' is freakin good. So good, that instead of explain'ing it here, Im going ta just shove it into this book so I can look at it when I open 'er up everytime.

-the next page contains a beautiful painting on a piece of hardened leather. It displays a sea admist a terrible storm. Rain is everywhere. A trade cog does its best to stay afloat in troubled waters, but looks desperate in its attempts.
A bolt of bright lightning strikes the ship, and contrasts the entire dark painting. If one looks closely, one could see the little sailors being tossed from the cog.
The water is painted in an angry green that gives it an almost supernatural feel to it, like its both very angry and very much alive. The
storm clouds too, are colored in odd purples, but also give it a distinct "rageful" feeling, and affirms that this poor sea vassel is
indeed doomed.


In the corner of the artwork, M.B. is painted in a small unobtrusive manner. -

That work there' be called "Storm N' Strike" ... eh? Or was it "Storm n Strife? " . . . I forgot, but, in any case, it's all painted by good ol' red wearing Minty... did I go and mention she was an artist o' sorts? She wears all red... and she's a good looker at that , I daresay... Hells. . . fear she may be one-o them Thayan red wizards or whatever that lot may be ... regardless, I still ain't avoiding her next time I get the chance... Paid 'er a little extra for the work, quite the dedication and piece of art to the thunder god.

-the next page's top corner is ripped completely off, and wet spots blurring the ink on the paper forbids any proper reading, but you get the idea that Thorn is mentioning something about joining up with some nameless adventurers and defeating some Beholder in a gnoll cavern...-


After we killed that wretched one-eyed' freak o nature, I met up with some Hin named Frog. He was dressed all in green an e' had quite the humor. Infact, I went n' found out he's actually some sorta Assassin. . . but I aint goin to hire 'em to kill nobody. If there be someone' ta kill, I do it myself, the proper way. . . But 'es got a good sense o humor, so instead, Im-a going to have this one humiliate a certain annoying lass who always stands about the fire camp outside the Friendly arms Inn. . . That pink-headed no good freak, and her poor insults, "Sugar Slayer, " or something o' the like because i swatted an old cookie out of some daft elf's hand. She'll get what's comin to 'er when Frog traps her with what we got in store for 'er... naw, I ain't going to kill the wretch, just going to freak 'er out real good. . . . If proper grammar could include evil laughter, I'd most likely add it on this 'ere page... by hells, I think I'll do it anyways.

-The next page has large scribbles and more elven curse words in the middle, along with " MWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA" written up and down the sides of the page.-

By Umberlee's Ugly Arse, I crack me-self up sometimes. . . n' people tell me my written and grammar abilities all be wrong.

[Zorn]

Entry 4:

Someday I jus' dun feel like writin'. . . But by the hells, somebody's gotta do it for the rest of 'em lot of Storm Knights and Talos worshippers. Most of 'em are rather illiterate I'd have to say, and can't scribe a damn thing down...

I utterly destroyed some flamin' haired planar fellow the other day. Twas quite the glorious triumph. The fool was walkin' along the roadway north o beregost, carrying three spears on his back. Basically, I called 'em a fool and shot a lightnin' bolt out at em. That lead to the fruitcake stumbling back in pain, as 'is face got reorganized. He waltzed right into a tree, where I then took my own tool'o'Talos and rammed it straight into the fools gut. Ho, did it ever scream! After his body remained motionless, and just slumpin' there against that tree, I took everything he damn did own. His armour, his coins, his three spears. . . heh, Too bad for 'em, if he was smart he woulda been a follower of something greater, because nothing saved him that day. After I stripped the body of all the inventory, I kicked 'em down that there cliff head near the goblin caverns hidden from the trade way by forest, and watched his' flamin hair extinguish in the river. . . Lifeless form probably floatin' downstream to be eaten by some wraith or bog-creature by now, I do reckon.

Ya always run into some wingnuts and fruitcakes. Well, guess I myself being one o' the freaks doesn't help, but all the people i've met are of strange sort. This damn knife-eared Avarie, or however ya spell it, lass keeps followin' ,me around. She is a dodgy little lass, but damn, her brain's one eye' short o' a beholder. Doesnt' recognize good from evil or light from day, or what not for that matter. . .totally random at times. At least the Chaos in her seems present, this be a good thing. Then, while we were fightin' goblins and the like there along the trade way, one of the most ridiculous Orc-kin I've ever laid my eyes on appeared. Some Orc wearin' a green hat callin' em Bak Hazo or some name. What a galoot.. .lucky for 'em i have some experience understandin' his broken accent, otherwise, 'ed have no way of communicatin' with us fine folk. . . regardless, he proved worthy to meet, because some other orcish Paladin that keeps houndin' me of late showed up, and when the Paladin o' helm.. or was it Torm? I've forgot... Anyway, the orc paladin warned me, and this Bak offered up his axe to protect me. . . Seems like all the people willin to protect me or be my minions 'ave little to no brains. . . Probably for the better anyways...

By Bhaal's Blasted Buttocks, my wretched son showed up 'ere in the coast the other day! Grashita, the damned fool. Almost brought a tear to my damned eyes.. . but the damn wretch son o' my tavern wench back home be using a CROSSBOW. What in the hells has possessed my boy to use such a weak and useless weapon. Let me tell ya what I think o' this sons decision . . .

-the following page seems to have been ripped out and continues randomly-

- Thairo killed some halfling wretch in the Gnolll caverns. Ya may ask why'd he'd ever do such a thing as that? Well, Bobby-boy likes to summon what he calls "ol-sack-o-bones" or something, which he then uses to kill his enemies with. Thas right, some necromanctic skeleton. I deplore such creatures, N i hate the necromancers, but I give exceptions from time to time, and Thairo just happens to be one of em. Like the man's sense of humor and destruction as a Dark Knight of the realm. He's one of the only non-do-gooder that i've seen that has have a brain, other than my self.

Nothing else to really mention. . . Myrkuls Mother! I forget that damnable creature Rinthar, or somethin' of the sort. Myself and a mess o adventurer types all gathered outside the Baldurs gate graveyard and threw ourselves into a massive fray against the undead. There were hundreds o the damn zombie and skeleton sorts, with others escorting em, but we sent them all back to Myrkul, including the biggest undead-woman I have ever laid my eyes on. Wasn't really worth the time though. . . too many of us to get any heavy loot, n' no decent equipment dropped off the wraith and lich that we murdered. . . err, killed again,.. think we killed the damn things four or five times. . . .

Ahh, my mind is wanderin' off to that Minty lass again. . . What a beautiful artist, eh? Heh, i'll have to go find 'er sometime and take her to a nice spot. . . wont let my age stop me. Perhaps I'll write 'er a poem or something romantic later.


Entry 5:

That Blasted "Frog" ain't gone n' done his job yet. That bloody pink-haired individual callin' me a sugar-smiter still be at large. . but none ta worry. The moment she wanders off the scene, she'll get what 's comin' for 'er.

It is good ta be in the company of fellow worshipers o' the storm lord . . . the destruction we 'ave been wreaking on the land has truly warmed my dark heart. . . And with what the Amn war is bringin' in and all, I feel even more pleased. Went and saw the duke O' the gate give an official war declaration . . . Ya know what? I hope Amn and the rest o' em fools fry in the wrath of the Fisters. Butcher their kids n' string em up aint the way ta do it though, or however the rumors of fists abusing the situation has been stated.. Nay, ye have to simply destroy them. Corpse and mutilation is for those wretched necromancer lot. I say, if ya destroy somethin' ya completely wipe it out, no trace, remove it from existence. There shant be no mercy from us, nay. We cripple em with our might, and utterly destroy 'em, removin' them from the face o' this world. Hells, I know that Amn is much more tolerant to Talos N' the other pathetic excuses of dark lords n' lass gods, but I care not.

Speakin' o my lord and Amn, I says, we oughta Tear the entire temple o' Talos down... I mean, the one that stands there in ... Athalka? Athlak? Athanlka? Whatever in the hells that place is, fer crying shame... they've got some institution goin' down there, and bend their knees for the cities damned mages n' all.... ya wipe the wizards there out, not obey 'em... So I says, we burn the entire temple of Talos along with the rest of that Amnish capi-toll down. That there is bein' written n' said by a priest of Talos, 'ere yours truly.. Why in the name of Uthgar's Ugly Uncle would Talossans be wantin' to set up a base o' operations? The hells does Talos need a stronghold for when everythin's gonna get destroyed be earthquakes n' lightning? Bah. Some young'uns operation for self-power I assume there...

-The next page has random burn marks and small holes in it, as though the page had been eaten away by acid. Yet, there is still some spots readable.-

I get the feelin' some Druid 'as been followin' me... I watched some fat midget-of-a-man named' Ralston or somethin' blast some sort of white dog or cat thing with Arcanical magics off at the far north eastern side o' the Not-Fiendishly Armed Inn. . . . And o course' this fatty went invisible, just as the stupid druid comes outta nowhere ta question me. Course' I told her the destruction of her dog was magnificent n' all.. but she seemed none to please. She already tracked me down to some tavern there n' beregost... more questions.. eh, that was ages ago now... But I just get the feelin' she'll be back to pester me some more. . . aint none - o - my business that some wretch goes n' kills some other wretches slave pet . . but hells, at least that plump tart man gotta destroy somethin'...

[Zorn]

Entry 6:

- You see a rather crude drawing of what what seems to be a woman. This woman has no hair on the top of her head, but instead has a giant X scratched on top of where her hair should be -

Lots o' things happened lately, but only the important things be worth mentionin' . . just doin some odd jobs for Maltz n' those other fools, saving up some money for somethin' big I may or may not plan to do . . .

FIrstly, I met up with some dwarf who went n' claimed there was some sort of ghost beneath them Giberling caverns North o' the FAI... turns out, they also connect to the hill-topped ruins further north, as well, we met some weak-arsed Drow within the caverns . . . That ghost was nay threat, and we didn't destroy it due to it's ghost visage. . so we just examined some statues of beings like Umberlee n then left. Bloody damn waste o time... key point here though was that the DWARF of all people in our party, was most impressed by my Armor craftin' abilities which I got to use full-scale when puttin' together some peg leg that fell off some statue. . . Impressin' a dwarf with crafting aint no small matter, so it's really got me thinkin' that if I keep up my skill, this could in the future turn into somethin' big... I've been dreamin and conujurin' up some plans maybe for a mining company, or maybe even some sort 'er crafting guild.. not sure what them dwarves would say to that, eh!

I went to the roaring shore and caught a wiff of some pirate crews... talkin' bout their captain captured and ready to be executed by the fists.. 'course i've been given everyone mixed opinions 'bout that. I care little to what they've got in store for that pirate, but i reckon the misery and the confusion i've seen with those close to 'em has been worth the noticing. . . and whilst all these people talk about some Thedran punk 'n this captruing of some Kalma captin' I've come across some book . . .

Turns out that pink-haired wretch, some hooded freak named Teo, and that clown of an orc I keep runnin' inta all say this book be some power of "Ao." I've nay heard of Ao until this day. . . some overgod that babysitts the rest o' the gods n' governs their power.. problem is, this Ao, ain't usin' his power to full potential. By his arse! Were I this Ao, I'd be makin'　Faerun　and the rest o' the maggots on all planes bow to me and serve me eternally . . or better yet i'd destroy every single thing in existence , then recreate them all again, torture 'em for awhile with confusin stories about gods n' all, then repeat the destruction over and over again . . . Bah. This Ao has nay power compared to that of the Storm Lord, Talos, almighty. If that Teo guy didn't mention that candlekeep was interested in such pieces, i'd probably just up and blast the book with lightnin' . . . but hells, if i can pawn it off to get a better weapon of destruction later on, that would be even more beneficial . . .

Ya damned pink-haired witty know it all wench.. .. Everytime I see ya with yar hair done up like that, it makes me so sick . . and that damn Frog.. what has 'e been doin.. hintin on what we planned..? That woman be thinkin' i've gone n' hired a few to go after her though, I reckon.. truth to the matter, I've nay spoken to none other than that halfling frog... Ah... if she only knew... tis not death I wish to give her . . . nay.. I merely want a piece of that luscious and magnificent hair she sports, so I can tie a big wad o' it to the end of my spears-head and laugh every-time I see it drive inta some sort of enemy. . . Looks like that Illmater-gal got 'erself some sort of permanent bodyguard 'as well. . . guess'n If she has good hair too, i'll have to get around him. . . eh, I kid. . I'd rather fry a triad member with lightning than take their hair n' let em live after to be humiliated.

Ya.. that horrid drawing at the start, that be that wretches body later when we're through with her... but damn ye Frog. Luckily, I ain't paid ya and they've nay proof to see who is hirin' ya! Deny, deny, deny!


//// OOC: I will be updating and putting more pictures and things in this journal.. ive been reading others journals, and like the organization and styles, so I feel I'll try something of the same.. but until the... thanks for reading, and enjoy the mod! \\\\\

[Zorn]

Entry 7: The Cursed Orcish Armour

I dont wanna go on about unimportant things today... other than some wretched hin on the road tried to do us all in with some sorta warlock magiks.. ... What 'ayve got ta say now is much more important. . .

Ya know, I've been wastin' them damned orcs out n the caverns, east o' the friendly arms Inn and in sharpteeth there.... ran into some man with black armor who tried ta help me kill the orcs. By hells, weakest fighter I 'er did saw. Carried a shield n' some wimp-arsed sword. . hardly cut the buggers.. I was one' shotten 'em left and right, and 'ere he had to prick and stab at 'em multiple times. Heh. Shows ya who's god is right n' who's god aint gunna give ya power. This one's name was Nielas or somethin' of the sort. Weakest fighter I 'er did saw.

In any case, we were fightin' and battlin' the orcs until we ran into one room. . . I thought we 'ad cleared the area earlier, but apparently, we never did. . . they swarmed at us from all regions. . . we dispatched all 'em , cept one of them was mighty tough . . This one weren't no ordinary Orc, nay. . . he summoned some damned Devil n' blasted the weak fighter' with some stinkin' magic that I 'ave no access to, but would love ta be able to use.. blew 'em right to Amn n' back, that blast did. Luckily' im so priest, and I ress-re-acted the poor slob . . figured he may be still some' useful for later. . .

Before I even booste'd him back to life, however, I noticed the tough orc had dropped some ol' piece of metal. . armor. Of course I picked ' it up. Treasure gets ya money, and Waukeen favors 'em who can sell it. Problem was, when I picked it up, my hands started ta shake violent-like, and the freakier part was I 'ad no method of releasing the armor either. Hand's were bloody stuck ta it. I could remove one hand, but only one, and each time I removed my blood hands, the armor just made 'em shake even more. What's more is that I seemed ta lose all my wards upon' inspect the armor further like.

Some other good-lookin' lassy met up with this weaker fighter n' I as we inspected the equipment.. She looked at it, and bein' a wizard type, declared it cursed. I at the time 'ad no idea what kind o' curse, but I reckon curses are all bad as they weaken' and addle yar brian. . . so we decided ta leave the damned Orc caverns. On the way out however, we ran 'cross some giant demonic lookin' Orcs n' some smaller ones with nay meat on 'em . . Overheard somethin' bout the head shaman. . musta been the one I murdered after Nielas went n' got fried. In any case, they saw me draggin' this armor I could drop a long and blasted off n' fear, screamin' and hollerin' like doomsday n' Talos creeped out on 'em and blew up their mothers. The feeling was excellent, I daresay. If I hadn't been bound ta the stupid piece of metal, I woulda chased 'em all the way out and into destruction. . but alas, I had nay chance to do such a thing in that current state of fit n' angry shakes . . .

We were gunna go to that Candlekeep. Gods, I was hoppin' that pink-haired fruitcake wouldnt show up n' make a mockery o' me. Wretched fists n' their dastardly comments on meh, as I walked by haulin that armor beyond the "Fiendishly Arsed Inn" Everyone 'as ta put in a joke 'bout me being aging, dont they? Fools. Their time 'ill all come when I blast em into nothingness. Regardless, we kept on our trekin' and continued to the Candled'keep.

We got there n' were greeted by the guards n' all. Formalities are for losers, ya know? Anyways, we' went in and went to some temple of oogle-ham ta inspect the armor I could nay drop, and was makin' my hands shake so violent-like.. .

- the next page of this entry contains badly drawn pictures of gnomes being stabbed with large spears -

I 'ate every single FREAKIN' gnome on this Faerun' planet that we all live in. Shar's Smelly Sweat, I be HATING EVERY SINGLE ONE O' EM . PILE EM UP N' BURN THEM ALIVE. - the remainder of this paragraph shows a mixture of curse words in common and elven -

We should dis 'ere damned oogle-ham priest, this farkin' gnome, my armor I couldn't nay release, n' he said i may be cursed, and wanted ta bust out somethin' 'e called the "Baller." The 'ells was the baller? This was the question I was askin' meself, when he suddenly walked over n' wacked me right in the Ying-yangs! Right n' the Skadoodles, right n' the dual wizz-wazzes. Do ye' understand the pain 'o gettin clobbered in the' kabookies?

Regardless, 'is "baller" method o' trying ta remove my curse aint did nothin' ta help me. Left me in total pain n' frustration. I swear, ifn' glares could kill, 'ed be makin' Myrkul cry out for mercy. That WRETCH. Then 'e said it didnt work.. Course id aint work, the hells my george n' marthas gotta do anythin' with curses? Then he says he's gunna get his spectacles, his damned goggles or somethin' ta inspect the armor further. . makin' me n' this wizard gal n fighter freak wait there. we musta' waited for an eternity, til he found 'is damned goggles in is' oogle-ham pants.

So ya know what 'e did so far? Hit me in da private-al areas, n also wasted precious time ta be doin' worthwhile things. . .Coulda been' stalkin pinky-hair or finding that Teo' freak ta hand over a book ta... but nay, 'e just wasted our time, lookin' for exta eyes ta help em see. When he finally inspected it, 'e done did disappoint me. . . He told me' I was cursed by Grummish, that orcish mutt-o-a-god 'emself. . . that there'd be two outcomes come happen if I were ta just accept my fate... first be, were I to wear this armor willinly' i'd be manifested into the Avatar o' grummish. Course, this way would be most pleasin' and destructive in the eyes' o Talos, but then I found out after question' the gnome that by doin; this i'd be sacrificed. AInt nay way I am givin' up my body for some ORC god. Second, 'e said if I just carry it around, the armor may near' explode n' divine might, n' outright kil me. Unpleasant results on both sides, ya understand? right-o, so I aint takin' neither, so I demanded 'e find a cure or' remove curse spell or somethin.

I knelt down before that damned creature, n' he touched my forehead after that wizard lass took forever to remove my damned 'elmet. Couldnt remove it myself, as the hands were shakin' too rapidly . . . Guess what? Damn gnome did somethin' useful n' removed the curse. . . HE REMOVED IT AFTER WASTIN ALL OUR TIME SPECULATIN' ON WHAT IT COULD BE . . SIMPLE REMOVE CURSE N' I WOULDA BEEN FINE. WOULDA DONT IT MYSELF IF IT WERENT FOR ME CONCENTRATION BEING IMPAIRED THERE.

Then' 'e does the final thing to anger me all off in the end... 'e said the curse was nay that big, and merely that I had touched upon some connection with the lower planes' o hells, or somethin' o that sort... It matters nay.. fact is, .. HE DOCTORED IT UP!!!!! Three mistakes 'ere : a) Ya waste my time. B) Ya give me chance o' power , but then give me some weak assed result in the end... C) YOU SMACK ME IN THE MOST ROYAL O' LOCATIONS OF THE MANS BODY. BY EVERY WRETCHED KOBOLD GOD N' TALOS FLUNKIE. I SWEAR THAT I'LL ROAST ERRY' GNOME THAT DARES WANDER ME PATH N' MAKE EM COOK SO FINE, AINT NOBODY GUNNA RECOGNIZE WHAT THEY WERE AFTER. . .

-his curses and rants of anger go on constantly for the next two pages, using every single common elven curse and some made up ones as well. It finally all ends somewhere three quarters down the third page of curses. -

Nay... nay.. I've let meself go to far with the rage n' some book... Riled myself up, I did... nay... this nay be a thing o' words ta be pesterin' about... I've got more important things ta be messin' with... eh, found meself a FINE sun elven lass.. goes by the name o' Emileasenthelia Leylaten'deleti ... catch name, ya think so too eh? It be her I be stalkin around with, complainin' n snappin' at orcs n' other lesser kin. She's a hard wretch ta please though... eh, i may lose interest in 'er if she keeps bein' too straightforward n' nay destroy somethin... maybe i'll fry 'er too.. I aint done decided yet.

Todays conclusion... be this...: I 'earby decree, that, from this humilatin' action against me, priest n' fighter o' Talos almighty, that the temple grounds o' Oogle-ham within the walls of the keep o' candles, shall be blasted into the earth' by mighty earthquakes n' thunderin' lightning. May the storm god , as well, if'n he be willin' cause storms n' quaking earths ta even crash the entire' landscape o' candlekeep, ensurin' that the place nay have another chance ta rebuild. I ain't forgettin' this insult of that gnome easily. . i've a feelin' next time i run into 'em, he aint gunna enjoy it.

/// thanks for the event Care

Entry 8: More clues to the curse on the Orcish Armor?

I love scoffn' and laughin' at elf-type. ya know, sometimes they take it so damned seriously, like today at that there fire camp. Called the elves all scum, all of em, that live in the coast, and two o' them got mighty upset. Laughed so hard within my heart, cuz I nay expected such an ancient and "wise" race ta take offense to words from an old like meself... oh the joy I pursued there... but that nay important.

Ay've been travellin' back to them orc caverns for some time ever since that there Orcish armor incident. .. ya know, knowing ya had a chance at ultimate power through the divine power o' some god, regardless of what it is, orcish grummish, or oogle-matter, Torm, or whatever. . It just makes ya curious. Ya start to wonder n' ponder on why there be some sorta mystical orcish object o' magic n' where the origins came from. So I naturally 'ave been searchin those caverns. Aint nay way I will let up some sort of chance to find more powerful artifacts.

That same exact cavern that I n' those weaklings earlier killed those Orcish shamans n' friends in.. . well, I found somethin'. I was the first one at the scene, and the entire cavern was burnin, roastin', even. In the center o' the caverns shone a bright, mystical all like light. Twas like myrkul 'emself was trying to leap out from the void n' break the fugue amongst, that wretch that 'e be. Anyway, I stood amongst the blasted light n' magic spewed all over, but nay happened... then that stupid half-wit knife ear Avarie, or whatever her name was, that drumstick lass, came out with some other lassy n' told me ta step away. I nay be doin' so, the light seemed rather intriguing and harmless, but ya know... when the crowd comes, somethin' always starts... The damned light ended up being an ol' portal that released Shadows N' ghasts and other dead things. Though i'd near n' damn stumbled on a necromancer again...

I think I blacked out or somethin'... perhaps that cavern n' the fire that constantly burnt in there filled me ol' lungs too much with putrid stench... I just remember wakin' up after sometime after Avarie arrived n' a whole mess of Elves, some dwarf, and one other human feller all be fighting' the undead I was previously fightin'.... Turned out the source o' all the magic was some sorta outsider... Damn, she finally came out, and was she ever smokin' hot. I'd totally go after 'er if she wasn't say... inta killin' us all.. . Though she was mighty' creepy... kept on hollering at us with some childs voice, laughin' like a damn innocent woman. Ta hells with that, we killed that wretch after some intense fightin'... worked alongside some knife-ears I was makin' fun o' before. .turns out they ain't so bad, they put up a decent fight, though I 'ad ta cure them over n' over. The best part o' it all though, was I got ta blast that wretched outsider wench with electrical charges... ya have no idear how much I enjoyed it, regardless that she there was some hag out ta kill us all... wish I would 'a got to know her better, but too late for it now!

I can't but feel this 'ere be related ta that armor I discovered and took to that Oogle-ham gnome.. that damned, damned gnome, and 'is "Baller." I nay forget somethin' like that.. when I get my hands on 'em next time. . . anyway, I feel there be somethin' deeper to these orcs, and these sudden callin' of outsiders n' armors... i may still venture into that wretched orc cavern.. if it still stands... the lower level seemd ta collapse on us after we killed that wretch in the firey room.. .heh...

Oh' Minty...I've nay seen you for many a spell... ye be one o' the only lasses out there that 'as been somewhat decent ta me... I still got yar paintin' in the front o' this journal o' mine... maybe next time we meet i'll be askin' ya for another picture... Though I nay not know what I'd like to have painted... maybe' ya can paint me a dead Dwarf impaled' on some pike or somethin.. ....
-the bottom half of the page appears to be ripped off, but nothing significant seems to have been lost-

Entry 9:

Ya know? Prison aint sa bad. I be scratchin' the wall 'ere full o' curses in elven n' orc and other things I've gone n' picked up.

Saw some pirate cap'n named Kalma get killed taday. Hung out near an orphanage. . typical fist kinda thinkin' ta kill a man infront o' children. I like it! Some halfling brought us some eggs n' tamatoes to throw at the man about to die. Epic indeed, says I. So we threw 'em and all but then the fisters got mad at us, n' told us to stop. . . after that, the duke o' baldurs gate 'emself came to talk to the pirate n' award that shiney fruitcake that plays instruments, Thedran or somethin', a mess o gold for catchin' the pirate. Durin' that time, some guy that looked mighty familiar came watzin' round me, wearin black.. aint sure I remember who it was ... but he whispered to his pal near me he' wanted ta get down the pirates body after the murder.

I reckon' they wanted ta release it properly at sea, and I aint nay ready to disrespect a storm maker like that o' Talos, and by that, I mean that sea bitch Umberlee, so I cooked up a lil' distraction' and purposley hucked n' egg at some fist guard.. hit 'em square in the face, I thinks... then I ran away! Ha! I normally wouldn't be I figure'd if a few guards were ta follow me it' would be worth a distraction!

I don't really remember what happened next... one guard told me I went n' tripped n' a corn field and blacked out. Typical o' me I suppose... next thing I know Iwake up n' prison. . . spendin' a few nights here... so I am gunna keep scratchin' me some pictures on the wall... unfortunately' the fist 'ere hurt my arm pretty bad...they' like ta come around n' beat us from time to time, bless their souls.

[Zorn]

Entry 10


Ay've been in a bad situation. See, I kinda ended up in that there' Baldur's gate prison again, fer supposedly stealin' from a church of Tyr, or was it Illmater? I forget, but some o' fister grabbed me and dragged me off to prison for trying to stab the alter out with my pike there n one of the temples. Spent some time in the jail, for a long while, I have. . So I have not had a true chance ta right any sort of entry or update my status.

Luckily, I aint ta known or feared yet. Being put in jail for some time will do that ta ya. Guys respect me down in the prison at least, well, at least the others who worship Talos n' all. Guess the fists let me out cuz i promised I'd fight along with 'em against Amn. Guess they trusted me enough, eh?

Speakin o' which, there's been many a great battle. Saw the fall o' beregost, killed a few Amn n' there pets me self with the rest of the groups. Also assisted in defense o' that halfin' wretch town. We actually saved it. And here I was goin' ta buy a magic casting license from some ol' cowled wizard.

On on the even brighter side' o it all. . got to gawk n' gaze at some beautiful elven ranger lasses.. eh, what I'd give ta get 'em down in an Inn room with meh, feheheheh. *a surprisingly half decently drawing of an obscured , half naked elf follows this paragraph*

Every battle was glorious n' its own right. The dead and the destruction that followed, these things 'ave warmed my soul truly. It was snowin' but it also rained in Beregost as we bled the enemy, and they bled us... what a glorious, wonderous feelin' that ay've got out of it all. The death o' innocents, the bloodshed and chaos . . I even' got ta summon up a mighty Earthquake ta slam into Amn forces. Talos be praised for this 'ere day. Course, I aint remember the face o' no my enemies. Ya try fighting pack's of Amn' boys that all look alike. I just stabbed n' killed where needed. Guess I kinda pulled out some magical healin' and what nots to. I ain't int the healin, but if healin can cause pain to people against the destruction I wreak, it's all good, ya know?

In any case, I'm sure the face' o the gate is gunna get changed forever. Ay've a feelin' these skirmishers n' battles are just minor ta somethin' much bigger.. but who knows. It wont matter anyway. Talos will see that all is for naught, and all destroyed.

Destruction to 'em all.

*a big rip is seen at the bottom of the page, as if torn through by one's finger.*