A second dragon’s skull slipped our grasp. A young, inky black dragon with violet shimmers: the self-styled Sludge Tyrant. I tell you, the beast is welcome to it. All the years of filth and squalor I endured in the outskirts could not prepare me for the skull rattling reek of Guttershade Grotto. Uxizor may have escaped, but I fear he will fair almost as poorly at the hands of his master...at least given the message we discovered from Scoria: another ‘lord’...this one of Ash, or Excrement, or whatever filth these twisted fools wallow in. I suspect we will cut him down as easily as his cohort.
Our new barbarous friend took a thrall. Malachai seems to have taken pity on some cultist named Vargo and is going on about reforming him. A noble action I hadn’t expected, but one I think may be foolish. Vargo tried to kill us the first change he got. Malachai will have his hand full...and I should prioritize a Brig on the Ogre.
I really must avoid dragons’ breath in the future. I owe my life too many times over to the Halfling. Though his constant pranks are annoying, especially his little birds, we all owe our survival to him more than any. In any event, Kastran’s magic may hide the scars, but I can still feel them.