Session 125

Gwenda
Everything’s so strange. As I started to write this, I doubted that I’d be able to put pen to parchment. More than anything, I’m writing so I can leave this behind for someone to learn about the afterlife. Or maybe, if we’re lucky, to look back at these notes when I’m revived and know it wasn’t a hallucination or dream. We did die, but we’re not fully dead. The captain, Xarbo, claims there’s something unusual about how strongly we’re keeping our memories, and that might be what’s fueling our ability to stay as ourselves. There’s a horribly unsettling ocean of aimless souls that get drawn to this bell each time it rings out. It rings so often. Can’t think too hard about what it means when it rings. I do have a bit of a magnetic pull on my friends. Must be the soul insurance. Thanks, Halda. Even after death, you’re helping me take care of my friends.
Agh, I’m not thinking clearly. There’s this fog in my head. And for some freaky reason I was afraid of Cormag for a second there. If anything, he makes more sense to me now than ever. Why did I panic?
If we can meddle with the living world, I’ve got some haunting to do. Vanthris can look forward to choking on his staff.

Several unhinged scribbles interrupt this passage.


So after communicating with Torm (I might haunt him, too, at this point) the Queen is alive and questionably well, I didn’t lose his favor, and he’ll do what he can to get me alive again. I have so many more questions for him, but I can’t lose all of my marbles. If I open that can of worms, I’d really have to lie in it.
That was a stretch. I blame the dead brain fog.
Oh, I wonder if Rindor can hear me from here… Maybe I can haunt him in the meantime.

We’re going to become clouds. My favorite thing - looming high above the ground. Supposedly it’s to strengthen our connection here so we don’t lose our memories.