Travis campaign

Ima's Log

As my destiny nears I have found myself longing for those simpler days. Those days when father would come home from working at the bar and tell us tales of his adventures as we sat around the table to eat our supper. I recall the hat hung over the fireplace for the longest time. It had been there as long as I could remember, and I never thought to ask much about it. I could tell it meant something to him regardless, and when I left find own adventures I turned down the offer he made me to take the hat with me. He was sad enough to see me go, but to see the hat go as well?

I’d return from time to time to visit him and my aunt. He had moved the hat into the bar. He was quiet when I asked him why, but when I pressed him he revealed something to me. The hat was “magic” my father told me. He said that an energy was getting stronger within it day by day. I could tell it excited him, but I could also tell that he was growing ever fearful. He never told me how he came about the hat. And as I get closer to my destiny I consider what circumstances he may have come upon it that would give him reason to fear its growing power.


I didn’t argue with him when he said he meant to give the hat away. He’d raffle it off. I consider now that perhaps that hat and my father were never meant to part ways. There was no winner of the raffle. The hat was stolen, and my father killed. Deisa, Morris, Quinn, Naomi, and especially the demon Akmenos. I cannot say that they killed my father, but I can say at least that they facilitated his death. The unscrupulous band heathens have paid no price for their crime, and now travel about hoping to be heros. There is no justice save for the justice I pay for, the price perhaps my life.


I have allied myself with these Bullywugs. There is something strange about them. There is a darkness and power that I feel coming from them. I’ve sealed my fate to the damned as I have given them the vile that will poison this land. But their war with the humans does not concern me, they are just my means of exacting my revenge.


The day draws near. The bullywug scouts say they have seen the ‘hero’s’ coming. Oh how I long for those days before. I have this desire in my heart, I want to go back and run the bar. Something that I have never wanted to do before. Morris stole my fathers bar, and my fathers hat. That drunk bastard is everything I have known to be evil in this world. With his death I will be satisfied.

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