Lost's Journal: The Staff of Zegana
A set of journal entries documenting Lost's adventure during 'The Staff of Zeganna' Campaign. A means of note taking for myself as the player of on going events but twisting it into a more entertaining way. Allowing those who have time to kill and want to know more about Lost to read. These are all written for Lost's point of view with some possible Authors notes at the end clarifying what had occurred if things are unclear. They will be written as a journal and may have small images accompanying them from time to time. Giving the readers both written and a visual. This is a smaller campaign used to break in between a larger one already set in motion so updates may not be frequent but if the journal system works I will be doing it with my other characters!
Prologue: What is Lost must be Found
Blistering heat once again, curse the dry straw within my frame! I risk being set ablaze by the unforgiving sun above. Coating myself in water prevents such a thing but attracts undesirable wiggling friends into my material body. The stench of mold I have detected humans complain in my presence. Such a bother to continue patching myself as a means to remain in tip top condition.To simply appease mortals fragile senses. The choice to venture into death by heat or decay by insects and mold happen to be my fortune. How unusual I believe this was not always my organic structure. I feel as if I were a individual of flesh eons ago, how long I cannot say. The sun and moon pass and I do not tally, no rationality to do so. I work on my farm as if it were my task by a higher power. Living in solitary fills me with unhappiness, that alone makes me indisputably positive I had flesh. I cannot smell or feel physical pain however emotions are burnt into my psyche. I wasn't forever lonely, I'm aware deep in my core once I had company.A red leather bound Sketchbook with the name 'Echo' etched on the inside is my proof.My creator no,she crafted my body but mother is a word that best fits this mysterious woman.It was her delicate hands that birthed me into this unforgiving world. How I know so much yet hold no memory is an enigma even to myself. A mystery I strive to crack! Summer invokes a heatwave these plants will perish and autumns harvest will not be as bountiful. I have no means for sustenance. At the risk of riots by the village below, I have chosen to take my leave come sunrise. Whatever belongings I own shall join me on my quest for answers. I grow tired of collecting personal questions with none to satisfy me with a proper answer. I have no direction no city nor town but I shall let my legs carry me. As to what I find, well I will be sure to write it down. Should I perish during my adventure perhaps some fascinated trailer will be invested in the tales of a sorrow filled soul bound scarecrow.
Author's Notes
This is fairly small for the moment. Other entries will be larger or even smaller depending on what Lost is doing.