You know by now that I’m sort of a superstitious guy. I have that ritual with pulling on my socks, that thing I do where I knock on the table before I pick up my cards, and that stupid thing I say to myself before I flip a coin (“C’mon You Shiny Circular Bastard”). And while none of these habits have really seemed to help me win a streak of especially good luck, I am certainly not stupid enough to tempt fate by saying something to provoke the gods. It seems that fates love showing you how bad things can be right after you notice how good they are.
Cayden warns us then that you shouldn’t talk about certain things—like how unseasonably nice the weather’s been, how lucky you’ve been on the draw at poker, or how fortunate you are that the in-laws have left you alone for a week or two. The rule is simple: You should never acknowledge that things are going well when they don’t have to be.
So Journal, I’m well aware the risk I run when I try to summarize how our exploration of Vordekai’s tomb has been going. I won’t say it’s going ‘well’, because I think that’s too dangerous. I won’t go into details on how we’ve managed to run right over the cyclops guards we’ve met, or how Gideon and Daargan have managed to keep us out of their traps. I won’t say how awesome I’ve been at putting crossbow bolts into things that need crossbow bolts stuck in them. No, all of that would be too much. I think I’ll limit myself to the assessment that things are “Proceeding according to plan.” That should be bland enough to absolve me of consequence.
Yes journal, I’m aware that reverse psychology doesn’t work on the fates—that’s clearly not what I’m doing. If I thought that worked, I’d start ranting about how terrible everything’s been going to guarantee that our good luck would continue. I know it does no good to complain about how it smells down here, or how jealous I am of my friends who can see in the dark. This is definitely not the worst tomb I’ve ever explored. Compared to the Troll Hole, this place is actually
quite pleasant. NOT HORRIBLE.
Wait, crap, did I just write that? Just a second.
Strikethroughs work to cancel out bad luck, right Journal? Oh man, I hope so.
Also, a moment if you will on the subject of undead minions. Roaming around down here, I’m coming to understand the advantages of having an army of undying husks that exist only to kill for you. You don’t have to pay them, feed them, or even find a place for them to sleep or go to the bathroom. And the undead don’t complain about unsafe working conditions, lack of upward mobility, or absent benefits. Hell, they don’t even smell that bad after the first hundred years or so! I think I’m actually coming out pro-undead monsters. Maybe we could get a few for Castle Tuskendale, you know, just to guard the tomb or Marcy’s bedroom or something.
Oh wait…Gideon’s probably not going to go for that. And maybe Katya would be a little upset (though Jacek might end up on my side after I explain that we wouldn’t have to pay them.) Daargan would definitely be with me. Maybe Leilania too?
So Journal, is this how one ends up becoming an evil undead overlord…by being overly practical? If so, we might be in trouble. I mean, no one would ever accuse me of being practical, but I know quite a few people they would.
Okay Journal, gotta run. Break time’s over and there’s more fighting to do. A few more levels and I’m sure we’ll be knocking on Vordekai’s door.
Don’t worry journal, I’m sure everything will be