Signore’s View

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I should not be here.

In fact, by any rational measure I should have died long ago. Recently, I walked away after sustaining five direct hits in a single round by a large green dragon and being knocked unconscious in a lingering cloud of clinging acidic dragon breath. Brave Ox was not so fortunate. In the past year I have also been picked up and carried off by both a monstrous snake and a huge dire shark, been nearly decapitated, and had my life spirit drained by foul undead creatures on two different occasions. Clearly, at least one god in the multiverse sees my purpose as worthy.

Even so, it is with some trepidation that I assume the role of chronicler of the Band of Blades. It is a sad and unmistakable fact that all those before me who chronicled our adventures up ’til now are dead. In fact, of the original members only myself, Skandale, Elios and Doc remain. Many have come, fought, and died. Yet I am still here.

The deeds of our band must be chronicled. Others must know how and why we died. Therefore, I must step forward and challenge the fates.

My other concern is that from time to time one or more of our group members slip into a strange catatonic stupor. While able to walk, they are unresponsive and have a strange vacant look on their faces. I myself have been afflicted from time to time but seem to suffer no long term affects. I worry that one day we may lose a member at a crucial moment, when we need them the most. For example,  Alexander has been in such a coma for weeks now but otherwise seems healthy and hale. We miss his blade and dry wit.

Still, I cannot shake the feeling I should not be here. Maybe none of us should.

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