I love when my players share journal entries from their character’s POV. Here are two from the first session of my Dungeon23 campaign. (Plus, they get 100xp * level with a cap of how much XP they can earn from just a journal entry…)
Brog’s Journal Entry #1
I got trapped on this ship full of lollipops, all disgusting degenerates them all. Think they’re perverts, murderers, kidnappers… people Maa Toelander told me stay away from.
She’d say, “Those tall fellows you hang around with aren’t nothing but big trouble.”
I’d say, “Come on maa, you always worry. I’m a big littling. I make them respect me. Now, how about second breakfast, it is almost lunch!”
Well, ur, here I am now, maa, on this ship heading to my sentence. But, I ain’t gonna, I can’t, cry in front of this scum. Ur, just gotta be toughen.
The screws dropped us off at this island– “Maw-something-island”, they said. Threw the five of us up on this dock. The one I think was a male-slattern or something, vomited. Another one, who I think, was a noble or a wizard or a rich man’s bastard or something, walked around with his shirt off. There was this “holy man” who was too quiet. And Bora was there too. And me.
Well, ur, we went from the dock onto a beach and got dressed– they (those screws) gave us our stuff. And yes gran-paa’s armor from the war, got all dressed up in it. Now, maa, you right about humans they ain’t the brightest. I had to lead them. Pointed out a path up between these hills. If you don’t herd them like sheep, humans get a’talking and a’talking.
This path led to a gate with– well, ur, dead stuff on sticks about it. Real scary, but I wasn’t scared. And there was, ur, a cave with a black gaping maw of darkness. Maa, I remembered what you always said, “Let the stupid humans go first, they don’t live long enough.” So, I did– “Get right in there, lollipops”, I tell you I said.
We lit up two torches inside that cave. Found it to be really a more bricked up place with writing on the walls. Why don’t humans ever learn how to carve? Well, they wrote stuff in there vile tongue– and, maa, you were right when told me, “why you learning those words”, because what I read on those walls were vile!
There was some stairs heading down into the ground, carved and scary. So I lead them like gran-paa did in the Shorts War… from behind.
We got to the bottom after a bit of a walk and there was a room with some tree ruuts in the door frame and two ass- lollipops talking to one another. Maa, just when I think I seen the worst of humans– I mean, I’m with this scum– I always find they degrade themselves worst.
I mean, here was a perfectly beautiful hole in a hill and these two assh– lollipops– were half-starved and babbling. I mean, I didn’t see one bite mark on the ruuts. Well, maa, you’d be proud, I greeted them just the same as a Toelander of the Fingle Clan by way of The Bingle-dorf would– I threw food at them.
They rudely fought one another for it. I had my bodyguard Bora restrain them. They got a good talking to. Kev and Dirk were those jerks– they mixed good food with dirt! They talked about “Them” and “That” and needing gold and what not to be at some place I took to be on the beach. The 13 hells, maa, I know… humans. I should’ve listened.
My humans were confused again. So again, maa, I had to led them. We walked down a hall, out of the room. But not before I had to stop the rich man’s bastard, the one who liked to show his chest, from killing Kev and Dirk. I guess the rich folk really don’t like the eating habits of the poor ones. Much like how we don’t like how the Footlanders eat– sickening mouth-sounders.
We found a statue in nook on our walk. It was on part of a plinth. Was smooth. Had gem eyes. The male-slattern wanted to touch it or kiss it! And meanwhile, Bora wandered off, found a gory room. I had to say, “Hey, don’t go in there!” Then like humans do, they wanted stand about and talk. Gran-paa was right when he’d always say, “Children those humans.” Good thing he told me how to lead them. I told them, “Come on. Go down the hall before the torch is out.” I think I scare them. Gran-paa would be proud I learned.
We did. And if the damndest thing didn’t happen. Here we are, maa, walking around underground and if ain’t a one-eyed cart-merchant come walking up with his wares. Picture a human– bald, beardless, and with an eye-patch singing as he worked. Now if that wasn’t the damnedest thing, the male-slattern did this weird touching of his fingers to the man’s lips. Like how you used to do to paa before you found him with an Anklelander. Inside I screamed, “What!? That’s how you greet strangers pushing a chart in a dark underground tunnel? “
Maa, I’m knowing I’m in hell now, cuz I should have listened to you. I didn’t and here I am. After the merchant, we walked on. The rest is a little confused because I am confused. How did I find myself here with these tall folk?
Somehow, some time later, we found a room with a pool. I should jump in. All the graffiti warned us about not drinking the water. Maybe I should just dive in, take a deep gulp and end this sentence. Maa, these ass- lollipops are gonna get me killed. Why didn’t I ever listen?
Bora’s Journal Entry
Bora stood on the shore of the island prison and smelled the air. The sky was grey, the air was cool, the morning was celebrated by the distant cheer of shore birds, and Bora was at the end of his life. He was sentenced to a year on the Black Maw Island, but he knew the chances of him living that long was slim. As the boat that brought him to shore rowed away, and he finished binding the last buckle on his gear, he regarded his fellow convicts, a surly halfling and three humans with apprehension. These may very well be the last companions of his life, and he missed his wife, and his mistress, even more.
Bora and his companions chose to seek shelter in the Black Maw itself. Bora figured that they collectively decided to dive in head first and face the threat of the island head on. The entered, walked past decades of graffiti, and into root clogged passageways. They encountered two destitute and hungry madmen. They found shrines devoted to evil gods, rooms filled with skeletons, and a subterranean merchant selling his wares from a hand pushed cart.
And they were only down there for an hour.
Tough-guy littleling (halfling) and Bora the cautious fighting man… it’s going to be a fun campaign!