I wanted a quiet, rewarding life. I did nothing particularly wrong. I just did nothing at all for almost twenty years, and got drafted into becoming an adventurer because of it.
So it was faith. An adventure. Great.
I don’t think this is fair, in all honesty, but you make it work despite company. I mean, who needs hell spawn with a party like this.
Bad decisions, questionable plans, and increasingly creative ways of nearly getting themselves killed.
It’s been relatively grim.
At the end of the day, I get to sleep on cold, wet ground exposed to the elements, all for a questionable amount of money.
Then we found a issue with the seals.
Ancient, vast, and built to hold back things that were never meant to return, they should be practically indestructible.
They aren’t.
They’re brittle.
They’re breaking.
They are cheap.
So the plan has changed. For once, we’ve actually found something important enough to report.
Who knows?
They might even let us retire.