Jari Journal 7-15-11

This island is truly a queer place. I have more questions, I fear, than I have ink. Still, a few are worth putting to paper.

Was it mere chance that brought us here? Was it luck? Or was it fate? Too many anomalies converge on this place and time—on this group of wayward souls to disregard. That is clear to me now. Yet acceptance of this phenomenon only begs greater inquiry as to its nature. What force drives these seemingly innocuous events? If we play puppets in this mummer’s farce, then who pulls our strings? Why seems my life a jest that I understand not? It would appear that we have managed to gain a practical foothold into the island. We have organized, battled beasts, overturned stones, and even found the odd secret hiding beneath. The greater mysteries elude us however. It is vital that we seek answers to the questions of the cannibals, the remaining shipwrecks, and the Red Devil. But other matters trouble me more even more greatly than those. I need to discover why Nig bears a letter sealed by the wretched skulks who killed my father. The black-skinned elf seems a good sort and it would displease me to end him. I need to learn more about the others as well. There is more to each one than a glance reveals. I believe that somehow we are all tied together in this, whether by contrivance or kismet, and I mean to discover which and why. Lastly, there is the matter that disturbs me most: the dark matter itching, begging to be scratched, mirroring the realm of sense and reason, lurking in the deep recesses of my mind. This business of bizarre dreams besets us all. I must sort it. I will go through the motions of our tangible quests and goals. In that regard this island is a blessing. My waking life craves adventure. If not, then why do I always act in ways that bring my closer to it. No, I’ll not deny the wanderlust burning within me. . . as if I could. But inside I understand that all of that is superficial. Something dark and magnificent calls to me, in the misty, liminal space outside of my conscious self. I know not what beckons me forth, nor why, but choice and will flee as I move implacably towards it, for I hear fate whispering my wyrd in the darkness, and know that only at the end of that road lies the dawn.

*Hey Brett. I had to spend a day in jail for my DUI received last year, and just read your SEX Journal e-mail. I like the idea, and here reads my first contribution to it. I will be at game tonight (5 o’clock, I guess?); I’m looking forward to it.
P.S.: I currently have 3,440 XP (I don’t think I included that on the character sheet I sent you.) Later.

Jari Journal 7-15-11

Serpent's Skull BretHart