Savage Tide: ECL 7 Guinet Westenwold gnome illusionist 3, master specialist 4: Journal 1

Hm.  I was really hoping there'd already be something written in this.

So, uh, hi there, future me.  Here's what I know, in case I forget again.

My name is Guinet Westenwold.  (Whew!  Easy one.)  I'm currently a little too deep underneath the "Isle of Dread" (two miles underground, I think they said?) with a gang of horny old wizards who've been down here a little too long.  It's exactly like a class reunion, only it smells much worse.  I mean, mage hand?  Really?  One, I've heard it all before, and two, you aren't getting any sensation from it, so what's the fucking point?  The spell you actually want to cast is...well, I wouldn't know anything about that.

Obviously, I'm kidding.  It's not like I haven't used mage hand to goose a freshman before.  (Yes, that was absolutely the extent of my adventures in magical misconduct.  Absolutely.  Look, me, some things you don't write down, even on a secret page, which this isn't.)  Also, these guys are far better company than the giant, soul-sucking monster that stuffed me in a bag and left me inside the anus of a giant barnacle.  I mean, what appears to be the anus-slash-front-door (back door?) of a giant-barnacle-slash-domicile.  The point is, they look like anuses, we're calling them anuses, and the people(?) here live(?) in anuses(no "?").  And if these guys hadn't come along, it's unlikely that Mr. Teeth would've left me there indefinitely, and even if he might I'm not really sure which of those two potential fates I would've preferred.  (I lie: it's the anus one, obviously.  It might leave a stain on your soul and your clothes, but the clothes are still yours and you can burn the soul.  Wait, I might have that backwards.)

Hey, I remember more than I thought, don't I?  I can almost see the translucent shape of my old Glamers professor intersecting the Ethereal.  I also remember, say, the idea of having parents and siblings and a (large) extended family, if not their names, faces, or how much I really liked them, anyway.  I'm sure they're doing fine.

What I don't remember is anything about this Isle of Dread or why in Krakenheim I'd be anywhere near it, much less two miles below it.

Hey, "Krakenheim"!  Something bubbled to the surface!  Now, is that the name of a place, or...?  If only I had a map.

Well, anyway, I have the assurance of an expert (me) that any memory problems are probably definitely only a result of my brush with a "devourer" (Mr. Teeth above, the expert had to consult with a taxonomy consultant for this taxonomy) and they will definitely probably go away with time.  Yes, it's all very reassuring.  No, I haven't really wanted to get into it with my saviors.  I get the distinct feeling that if the amnesia isn't monstrously induced, it's probably something I did to myself intentionally, though only Callarduran knows why (or how) I would've.  And if I'm right, he can keep knowing, I don't want to, because isn't that exactly the point?  I'm not going to be one of those people who doggedly seeks out the truth of their lost past life only to become that which they feared, or die on an altar, or go insane, or... Well, you get the picture.