I need to lose the beer gut! Lycinda and Bree were tangled with some Twig Blights outside the ruins so I thoughts to meself “Come on Gus, the fight’s out there!” and leapt through the window. Well, I tried to but I got caught on the sill and knocked the wind out of my sails. I shouldn’t be this unfit, I’m only 90! Too much easy-living since I left the barracks.

On the plus side, I saw a dragon! An honest to goodness dragon! That’ll be one to tell my cousins when I find them. Thank Marthammor that Lycinda and that flying rat of hers managed to convince it to eat those fething cultists and not us, the damned thing ate a giant spider like it was a light snack!

Speaking of, this lot I’ve found myself in with seem an odd bunch but alright. That kid Star needs more padding on his arse the way he fights, but he’s keen, I’ll give him that. Sir Norris had to correct me when I kept calling Lycinda and Bree ‘lads’, apparently their lack of beards is a gender thing, not a fashion thing. I dunno, gimme a stout lass with a beard to her knees and a strong right arm any day. Still, they can hold their own in a fight, I’ll give ’em that. Not too shabby for a halfling and an elf!