Entry One

    I am uncertain of what will become of the pages, the years of written documentation of my life, I had lost....perhaps one day they shall be restored to my fleeting attempts to keep myself immortal. Like with all things lost, I must start anew.

I have been stranded on Port Ratt for many months. No merchant seems keen on aiding my cursed soul.  I wish I had never gone to that foggy Black Merchant Island, I wish I had never used the magic of the Traveler’s map. I do not know why the map had sent me to Port Ratt. I was far closer to Belenos! One thing I do know Is I must get back to the land I once played hero for. I shall swim if I must.  The people of this Port will be missed, their food especially.

Entry Two

I am thankful for the ship wreckage I had swam upon, the ship’s row bow was unharmed somehow. I rowed for as long as I could, ignoring the biting soreness of my arms. The Black Spirit that inhabits my soul, dares to complain when he makes no effort to help aid my ability to get home. Every so often I have to stop at an Island, or stop to try for some fishing. I unlike him can not live without food or water. I never thought I would be so desperate as to drink the rainwater that collects at my feet till now. I pray to whichever God that I get home safely. I hope for another island to appear to me soon, so I can collect the giant leaves to make a means of shading me from the sun while I try to get this boat across this demon riddled sea. Maybe I can make twine from Stringy plants and find a means of making a sail to help aid this grueling task 

Entry Three

    I have been adrift for so long, I forget what started this- but I know one thing, I must get to the land I Dare call home. I can still Remember when I had first awoken there, I had no memory of who I was and that Spirit was nothing but a mere floating black mist like orb. I miss those days. I miss the people I had come to call my friends, and those  whom I dared call a family. I wonder If Eir still makes her Honey Wine. I miss that strange man from the lands so dry, Ogun may not have spoken many words, and was far too religious however he always had my back when dealing with the hordes of Naga and creatures far more ferocious.