It has been a couple weeks since last I updated this journal. And at this point I must write quickly for fear of igniting the parchment I write upon. I am become the unwilling vessel of an Elder Fire Elemental a thing of primal fire. Why was I so arrogant as to think that communicating with the beast would be a good idea? I understand fire and what it represents better than most I should have realized the way it leaps from dry tinder to brown grass would be mirrored in the ways of power and will. Damn me for a fool. Between the explosion that ruined my reading desk and destroyed the spell book of Prof. Penrod and this I do not know why I even struggle against my fate. Perhaps I should free the Elemental lord and be done with this life. I am merely a magnet for trouble and an ill advised fool giving poor advice to a man drowning in the decisions he needs to make. That the Count even listens to, let alone respects, my council anymore merely highlights his desperation. Oh well, my current state allows for much thought and introspection.
We head for New Stetvin in the hopes that we will be able to get whatever now resides within me out with the minimum of carnage. I may even survive the experience. I have nothing to add to our cause and may in fact be a hindrance to it.
Despair seems to be my only companion these nights. Too many dead and too many dead ends. I worry that we are doomed to react to the diverse elements around us until we eventually fall short and perish. Lady Pharasma’s hand was stayed from claiming Lady Vaszilla this time. Who’s next and when?
Heirs of the Stolen Lands
Kaspar's Journal (session 25/26)