There is a lot on my mind. I can’t separate the nightmare images in my sleep last night from what actually did happen yesterday. They are one and the same.
It is early on what I would call “day forty-three”. I am on the third watch of the night, waiting for dawn. I am tending to wounded comrades as they sleep uneasy in fitful heaps. And I monitor the darkness for any sound of that Dwarf or his allies. We don’t know if they followed us after the battle or not. We should be far enough away to be safe.
Confusion, fear, anger. These feelings are most prominent. Everything from yesterday is a jumbled mess in my mind. For my own good I need to make sense of it. I am frightened, I admit. We came too close to getting killed. Way too close.
Journal of Dr. Marcus Grant
Healing Cleric of Pelor, Order of St-Jude Academy (Silabrek)
42nd Day, makeshift camp, territory of Ælim.