Reckless Breakage

An Excerpt from the Journal of Deovan Dzantulos

12th Day of Highsun, 748 A.D.

Our (my) group has obtained a new acquaintance. This Fortune fellow. By the Twelve Kings, I cannot determine what he is, other than he claims to have once been human; his flesh, if I can call it that, is solid stone, with deep score marks and inscriptions in ancient tongues. I have seen stranger things, it is true, but still, his presence unsettles me somewhat. Never have I been one to put faith in the spirits of the elements. Too capricious. It is better to rely on what things you can always put faith in- mercantilism, for one. Anyways, I am unsure of his motives, but the others have pressured me to trust him.
Skipé and I have discussed him at length. Skipé agrees with me in my assumption that Fortune may be hiding something, but he cannot conclude what it is, either. I believe I may have seen something like Fortune before, though… one of the multifarious strange beings I saw in that terrible dream, in which Skipé was my master, and lord over Athas, perhaps.
In other news, I have managed to obtain a form of rudimentary communication with the halfling, Jora. The others claim he can speak in their minds, but I have never heard anything. Perhaps the amount of other voices already there drown him out. Anyway, I developed a form of signing language with which to converse with him, and have developed a complex and well-thought-out lexicon. Skipé, alas, cannot use it, as his claws are too ungainly.
Besides these occurrences, I have obtained a journal, of sorts, in the Tyrian marketplace. It is what this report is inscribed upon. I believe, now, I will return to sleep… but with one eye open, maybe.

-Deovan Dzantulos

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