*summary of the first dozen or so pages* I am from a monestary on the surface. Drow struck us from below, but we were able to repel them. Fearing the threat they may pose, adventurers gathered from throughout the nearby countryside, seeking to drive the drow back into the black depths. Various survivors from the monestary, including myself, joined them on this journey. The drow are a fiendish lot, and alternated between traps and ambushes with little losses to their remaining numbers. I was the only one I know of to have escaped the last cave-in my party had encountered. Picking my way past rubble and the remains of at least one friend, I came to find myself here. Many in this place need aid, and by the will of Helm's doctrine, I shall help them as best I can.

*quickly scribbled notes* Plopilibop has a close-following companion, Jach. Seems to have had trouble between her gang and the local druids. Has a purple haired companion. Hired a Danny Tate.

I've been bothered recently by a strange little Imp, E-something. He spoke of me dying soon, in the service of 'the eldest one', or an old man at least. Also, his manifestation, which 'I alone' could see, was apparently a sign of latent magical power. He offered his touch, perhaps that the 'Dark Lady' might provide this, but I told him my fists were enough, and struck him down. Everything seemed to go black from there, and I awoke in the Last Stand, even though the last I recall was attempting to rest in the Crone. Were it even a simple dream, it is still a premonition not to be taken lightly. Helm, keep me as I try to keep thy word.