At long last, my conditions have improved. My exceedingly gruesome, macabre, and unproductive torture at the hands of the drow has come to an end, at least in the literal sense. I have escaped from the abyss to which I was assigned with my life, mind, and fortitude largely intact, and with several lessons well learned. The drow are creatures of great intellect, prowess, and cunning, and can offer many lessons on survival and the defense of power, both of which are admirable goals.

As I took my first breaths of 'free' air, my thoughts returned to my life on the Surface. I long for the taste of real food and wine, the smell of the grass and the dirt beneath it, and the touch of a woman who has laid eyes upon the sun and possesses knowledge of the rudiments of bathing. My mind is hungry for a new challenge, something against which I can pit my intellect to improve my lot. I believe I've found such a task, naturally. To escape this cruel, lightless den of pandemonium and suffering for the slightly brighter one above is a desire paramount to my happiness and my continued sanity. I cannot afford such lofty ambitions of contacting my brethren on the surface and planning some foolishly romantic rescue with the possibility of the construction of an enclave in this congested sinkhole, as any thought put toward their completion would be a waste of my time and resources. If we are, in fact, miles beneath the surface, as some have suggested, there is only one logical approach: teleportation. My fortune to have a Thayan education in the Art is indeed boundless, and I believe that I shall unlock the secret of escape within the next year or two. I will need a steady income to pay for my research, as well as a source of knowledge upon which I can base my research. It will a considerable amount of time, of course, but at the moment I've nothing else.

I've read that to gorge yourself upon the fallen, you must attach yourself to the strongest predator. You will get less reward this way; this is logical, and is not to be contested, but you will get meat nonetheless while the weak and stupid starve. I believe I may have just found that great beast, blessed by Malar himself (in the figurative sense, of course). A few, in fact, and I may be able to double my share of what I am owed and fulfill the wishes of my Mistress at once.

I met a knight of the Toboerski household. I usually detest orc-bloods, and while this brute of a cavalier was not a noteworthy exception, he got me thinking about the possibilities that lie before me. The leader of this knighthood seems to be a maverick in local politics, and it would be wise to offer my services sooner rather than later. I saw this orcish footman kill a monstrous bugbear in the lower caverns, and no matter what outcome my involvement with this family may produce, I am certain that it will serve as an ironic bit of foreshadowing.

I have a master from whom I can learn, as well. I have not had a proper figure to instruct since my former teacher was killed when the drow attacked. This figure seems to lack a certain among of stability and subtlety, but we shall see if these deficits are genuine in time.