Wry's Journal, voices in the crypts

[..........]

Perhaps things weigh too heavily on my mind and I was just hearing things. It wouldn't be the first time. If not for that wizard, I'd be stone cold dead. I allowed the voices to distract me, left me vulnerable. Real or not, it does not matter. I am slipping, I must regain focus.

The one called itself a merchant, yet did not provide any inventory to look at. The other said it granted desires. It expected me to freely divulge my innermost desires, my secrets, HA! The least it could do is prove it's power. I can't imagine any fool elf telling their uttermost secrets or anything at all to strange voices in the crypts of the dead. Perhaps a hin, but certainly not an elf. They knew nothing about me, not even the god I worshiped whose name I foolishly gave up freely. Erevan..... Seems they were just waiting for my protection spell to wear off to summon the unliving to attack me. What a fool I was. Luckily that mage came along when she did, or maybe she was the cause of these voices or in league with them. She thinks she did me a great service, perhaps. A death staved off that would have been justly deserved. Only Erevan Ilesere can absolve me from past misdeeds.