Praetor’s Log: 27th of Sorrow, in the Year of Priest’s Defiance
I came very close to lighting that swordmage on fire yesterday. I quickly dispatched of that bitch magic user and he had the audacity to drag her up from the depths of the silt and save her life. Not just search her, question her, and dispatch of her, no, this underling has chosen to keep her alive and has staked his life on it. He would not even cave to the extremely generous compromise offered by that blood thirsty bard I like so much. Blinding her to take away her ability to cast magic was such an eloquent solution. But no. He is lucky the noble stood with him. Nothing less would have stayed my hand and saved both his life and the life of that mewling necromancer. Why the noble stood with him I cannot comprehend, but it is advantageous at this time to stay aligned with his house, so for now I will yield. The swordmage has some deep internal motive I do not understand. Needless to say, I do not trust him and will be watching him closely.
The slayer continues to prove himself a useful tool, dealing large amounts of pain and wounds with that unusual spear of his. Even the ranger proved quite useful, spotting the wights from a long distance away and granting us the ability to fire upon them long before they reached us. I am annoyed at the destruction of our ship, but at least we have the other ship in reserve, waiting to approach the island on our signal.
I do not know of the dangers we will encounter within the ruins, but I feel we are proving to be an effective killing team. That is, of course, when the swordmage stands out of the way and actually allows us to kill. Sentimental fool. It will come back to haunt him, of that I have no doubt.