Gil-Garrand's Journal

The Witless Wanderers

By Gil-Garrand

Maybe someday this journal will famous. Who can know? If anything, it's at least good practice. I should record something about our little troupe, but I should note that I've only just met these other gentlemen. I don't know how long we will be adventuring together, but I do know that someone in the Brotherhood has placed us all together. I hope I can pay off our debts in good time, but part of me is quite excited to be away from Magnimar.

Myself, I am Gil-Garrand. I serve as the group's announcer, driver, bard, and historian.

Then there's Grurag, an imposing Shaonti ranger. He seems to know the road well and has a valuable lay of the land. He bears his tribal tattoos and makes a note to show them off whenever the weather is warm enough. He also sells some very nice necklaces and other baubles from his homeland. Grurag carries a deadly greatsword strapped to his back.

Next is Rincewind. I believe he is a Varisian, but I'm not quite sure. He keeps to himself most of the time and seems perfectly content to just wrap himself in his scarf and cover his head with his ridiculous hat. I believe he has some magical ability but I can't be sure.

Our cleric is a nice, young halfling named, Heggun. He's short… I mean, even for a halfling, but he is quite skilled. He is a Desna worshipper and appears to be devout. I find Heggun to be reliable and helpful. He certainly has the halfling love for good food and the pipe. I do find his tobacco to be repugnant.

Finally, there is Zefer. He's the first gnome I had ever met and he's very strange. He claims to be a sorcerer but I've only seen him use some simple cantrips. He carries a well-crafted crossbow which he cleans at an almost obsessive level.

So there we are, The Witless Wanderers. Fate (or debt) has thrown us all together. To what end? Only the gods see that.

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