Journal Entry 1
I had I hard time getting failing into my trance tonight, so I decided to actually take some time a write something down. When you hit the ripe age of one-hundred and twenty-three it gets hard to remember things. Not that I’m doing this so a can get a hit of nostalgia at some later date, (I doubt traveling with these Asor will ever be something that I want to remember), but to have something to look at later if the need for blackmail should arise or some such thing. It is amazing the things you can forget when your life in measured in hundreds of years, though such is the burden of the superior being. So far we have not found a whole lot in this tree other than a slow and painful death waiting behind every door. Worse yet anything we find goes to the boar man. I was hoping that contract with him would make him more cooperative, but so far it has only managed to piss the medic off righteously. The undead freak is likewise on edge. Perhaps my name calling is hurting his feelings, if he even has any. I feel like the team is at a breaking point. If it gets violent I do not know yet who I will thrown in with, of course I could always run away. Worse yet I found some drink, those wood bonkers at least can get wine right, and I lost control. It has been so longs since I have had any…and the wine barely hit the spot. I can tell already once I get paid that I am going to blow all that coin on the first batch of it that I can get my hands on. I need it so bad, so bad. I would do anything for some right now… No, no I have to keep my head on. Get done with the mission, get money, and then spend it all. I do not have the luxury of distraction right now with enemies on all sides.