Sinfort's Journal

The following entry has been scrawled onto poor quality parchment in a rough handwriting. The ink is smudged in a few places, and the overall parchment has a natural inward curl to it.


I can’t remember the last time I kept a journal. Junior High maybe? Sitting here in front of a softly crackling campfire tends to get one thinking, though, and I’m desperate. I need to figure things out, and, seeing as how I’m an extrovert, writing something down might help. Okay, where do I start? I was home from the military, finally. After a tour in Iraq, and barely slipping by yet another, I finally finished my obligation to the United States Army. Tim finished his as well, so the natural first reaction was to travel back to Mountain Home while our pockets were still swollen from governmental income and have a “Feast the Army party.” Our plans were grandiose. IBC would flow freely, and we nearly cleaned out the local Harps of ice cream sandwiches in preparation for the night. Every single one of the Guys’ Team had planned an entire campaign. The plan was to play four days straight of D&D. Hygiene and nutrition would be thrown to the wind, to be sure.

We got a phone call from Jimmy saying he had “things to do,” which is characteristically eccentric—characteristically Jimmy. JT got caught up doing some things as well, but the enthusiasm in his voice promised he would be there as soon as he could. David got the green light to start a campaign up for just me and Tim, so we decided to pursue that option. We sat down to play the game, and to say that our spirits were high would be an unforgivable understatement. Laughing and the sounds of IBC bottles hitting the table polluted the downstairs of David’s basement. Just when David reigned in our excitement and started setting the scene for his new campaign world, the oddest thing happened. A thunderous sound crescendoed and climaxed. Actually anti-climax would be the appropriate term since when the sound got the loudest and the ground shook violently, nothing but silence and a blinding white light met our senses. Then…we were somewhere else…and someone else.

Next thing I know, I’m a half elf…yes, like the fantastical race and, no, not figuratively. Odder still, Tim is a half-orc and David is a full elf. The trick of it is, he’s a girl…boobs and all. Sort of makes me think Tim should’ve said something along the lines of “David, I got a total BONER when you woke up with those boobies.” Heh…I digress. The next chain of events can be described as nothing short of … well, campaign-ish. It really feels like we’re in some sort of fantasy alternate environment, helpless citizens begging for help and all. We were thrust into a chain of events that led us into the rescuing of two village children! I’ve never felt more alive in my life…that is, until I was run through by a rugged steel blade. Oh well, no sense in writing that all done. The real mystery is how I got here and how to get back. This is just skimming the surface, but with any luck, I’ll be alive long enough to keep writing in this thing until I can figure it out.

Writting along the bottom of the page are a few words written almost randomly Notes: Tim = Sinfort, David = Elwen, Me = Sinfort, Amy = Alyiah.

Will anyone else be here? How to contact the outside world…

Zelemach?—> evil drow wizard

Father Beneson?



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