Consigned to the Mud - The Journal of a Troglodyte

[Nephallim]

Am I doomed to be surrounded by weaklings?! I travel with soft, fleshy worms! What do they know of strength? What do they know of the Dark Way? The pig-face's incompetance is extraordinary; only when his foe flees can he kill. The little fleshbag with the stupid hat fights as if making love, an abomination of the warrior's path. The black-skinned spider-woman spews worthless drivel and speaks of grandeur, but her words are empty. The lantern bearer...her worthhas ye tto be seen. If the moon doesn't shine and the stars die, perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised.

Old-Mancleaver said to lead by example, before I ate his eyes and took his name. Perhaps that is what I'll do. I'll show these warmbloods the glory of the Dark Way, and maybe then they'll serve some purpose.

-T.M.

[Nephallim]

My companions are perhaps more competant in battle than I had thought at first. At least they know how to fight. Still though, they are fools, more concerned with money and arrogance than true power. The drow and the human woman are perhaps exceptions...perhaps. The goblin has worth...he at least doesn't bother with petty banter. He shall be the foundation of my army...of my black horde to reclaim Blin.

On another note...I have found that human women are both soft, and warm...perfect for nesting. I shall bring this revelation back to my people when I make my glorious return.

-T.M.