It’s been a long time, friend. Had I known you were so lonely in my pack, I surely would have passed you on to a more needy soul. Yes, a filthy street child seeking a role model. Better, a lost wretch battling the devil of alcoholism (and perhaps actual devils)… someone in need of some real wisdom. The Kohlorian Brotherhood have so much to teach. It takes a man like me to dispense that kind of wisdom.
I apologize for my long absence. It’s not you, it’s me. You must understand my struggle. I’ve been on the road, showing people the ways of Petra. For how long I do not know. I’ve only been able to put this together from the scars on my body – diary, they really make me more attractive – but it seems my brain box has been rattled everyday for many months. I can’t imagine how many healing potions I’ve imbibed!
That must explain the pink urine. Suffice to say, my memory is discombobulated. It seems yesterday was the first day that I wasn’t knocked since my journey started. In fact, it’s only today that I put together my friend Orah was slain in the siege of… well, I can’t recall. The woe of an amnesiac. I wept alone. Orah never matched me in battle but now I’ll never know just how far he was from my level. Pity. Apparently, Larry was killed too but that guy had it coming or I would’ve done it myself.
I hope to be able to write in you for many days to come. Let’s pray that I do not get knocked down again by another cheap shot, for I might forget you altogether.
[Petyr finishes writing his journal by the campfire and accidentally leaves it open the near pillow of the pretty cleric his party came across last session].