Whaddaya know, I've been knocked down again. They tell me it was almost permanent. From what I remember it was an honorable fight. We fought our way into a compound that resembled a training grounds, bested several of the local warriors only to be faced by the compound's master fighter. The fight went well, and we took some injuries. The only one to fall was myself, although others were close to falling. I do not know how the final minutes of the battle proceeded, but we must have won since we are all here and in good spirits.

This latest victory/defeat has made me look at my preferred method of fighting, an axe in both hands. It has proven to be a very effective form. After two strikes with me axes, I think most opponents should wonder if fighting is a wise choice. This is good. When I am fighting less seasoned warriors, priests, or non-essentials I get carried away. The heat of battle is an all consuming thing. I am beginning to understand the gift my battlerager brethren have been given, but I still understand that the only winner in a great battle is the one left still standing. My greatest hang up is not adjusting to warriors with equal or superior abilities. Yes, I admit it. I fail to adapt to new situations. I must accept the lactic of blocking attacks with a weapon, or a shield since my superior armor will not withstand ail attacks. My companions use this style often because of their non-dwarven armor, and use it effectively. At some point I will have to try this out, but I have my doubts. I don't think this method of combat suits me.

I finally got to try out the additions to my armor. The helmet works well but it has its limitations. Mainly it's a matter to decide when to use it. I've found it is best to use it to surprise the enemy. Use it in the middle of combat. Just when they think they have you figured out, you slip in the spiked helm. The face rippers work the same way. Get them into a routine, then nail'em. Of course, nothing beats a full blown charge and contact with the skewer.

I think I am beginning to understand how my ancestors felt about elves when they made the forge. Our elf ain't too bad. He can do some fancy cutting, and he is good for a laugh or two. He doesn't seem to be as righteous as other elves. He is almost down right tolerable. I thought he was going to have a fit when he found out that we had to carry the forge out from the underdark together. I was also impressed by his restraint when we encountered the drow. That blade is damn near as passionate about drow, as I am about duergar. I don't believe I'm saying this but that elf is alright.

I'll never forget finding the Halls of the Ancients. I almost dropped my axe when I saw those mithril doors to the duergar city. I had never seen that much mithril in one place. Then they tell me they want to take one home. I was beginning to think all that time in the underdark had taken its toll on the party. Me axe be rusted if we didn't pack it up and take it with us, all four tons of it. Lucky for me we got 400,000 gold for it. Someday I wouldn't mind going back down to do some salvaging.

The party is making noises about buying a ship. I even heard that it will be able to fly. Damn, I'd like to have some of the ale they've been drinking. Hal Ha' But seriously, if anyone could pull it off, it'd be this lot. I'm not to thrilled about going on a boat again, let alone a magical one, but they'll need this axe to handle the nasties. Slater or no water; magic or no magic (preferably no magic); I guess I'm going. After all I've got nothin' better to be doin'. Besides there might be some ears to be gotten. I've got a serious debt to repay the party, and I think they will benefit the most from my axe rather than gold.

Well, I knew it! That Gnomish contraption of a ship got shot right out from underneath us. Magic Helm, Magic Users, Priests, they all ought to be burned. Just when I was getting used to things aboard ship. Boom! we're underground again. This ain't all bad. We sent the crew ahead to build a new ship and get it ready for us, while we go and do a little merc'n.

I'd say this group has got a lot to learn about hire'n out. Kraygon's rule number one: If you can't stand the heat, don't stand near the forge. You're getting paid to do a job. Do the deed and don't try to save the world. If you're worried that much about what's going on, you shouldn't have taken the job in the first place. Rule number two: Never get attached to anyone or anything. Rule number three: Don't ask too many questions. If you absolutely need to know what's going on, the boss will tell you. Rule number four: If the guy that is paying the bill bites it, you're job is done. Rule number five: Your life is much too important to be blown away because of someone else's hair-brained, drow-lovin, spider-humpin, orc-belchin get rich quick scheme.

The thing that gets me, is that the group just doesn't listen. When that merchant died, our job was finished. We held no obligation to deliver anything to anybody. I'll agree, we are in need of some cash, but waltzing into the middle of a drow capital is not my idea of fun. Especially when we could just leave. I should have just tunneled my little dwarvish butt out of there and leave them for spider food. I gave them a suggestion, "Let's just leave," I said. But who in their right mind would listen to a dwarf? Definitely not these guys. I'll give the elf credit, he didn't argue. After everything is said and done and our hides are part of some drow slave chain I'm sure they'll say to me, "why didn't you tell us?" I'll just have to reply, "I did, but you didn't listen like always." You know, they all say I've got a head as thick as granite, but at least mine ain't made of it.

Why didn't I just leave? It would have been so easy. It's a difficult question to ask, but I think I understand why. These bums are almost like kin. Damn, there went rule number two. I'll just have to save their flea infested hides again, just like always. They're gonna pay for this one.

Clangeddin aid your humble follower.