I do not understand how these individuals have survived so long without me. They should be commended. Like when a small child learns to walk. It is something they need to do and should come naturally to ensure its survival. Myself- I was walking almost the moment I was born but I am to understand not everyone is as gifted. There is something to be commended about the Great General Pip Manadarin, even though he understands how to walk, he will still crawl to give himself, I presume, some sort of tactical advantage. No matter how shameful or dishonourable it might appear from the outside looking in. He truly is a dragonborn that doesn’t care what people think of him, which must be a great relief to himself and those that he surrounds himself with. 

...

Because no one thinks very highly of the man you see.

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Hecktor Alabaster would die doing what he loved, trying to save someone else and never thinking about himself. Hecktor Alabaster was born on a hard stone table at his family's home in Northern Candor, the second child of decently well to do and hardworking parents. He came of a people who had been stonemasons for generations, men and women whose bodies became as hard and unbreakable as the stone they worked with. Hecktor Alabaster was a boy of quiet habits and soft hands whose mother would describe him as timid and shy. Reading stories of heroic knights and larger than life adventurers, Hecktor would often wish he could be anything other than like himself. He wished he was brave. He wished he was strong. But most of all, he wished he wasn't afraid of the dark. 

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It’s more beautiful than I could ever have imagine. First the stars and now this. A glimpse of the moment when I first saw her. I can see I have past by many eyes but I only got lost in hers, and to get lost in those eyes all over again? Maybe this is heaven. Sometimes love is as easy as looking at the moon and sometimes it is as difficult as counting the stars. I knew then, just as I know now, that I want to do both with her.

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Little dragon man always so confused. He like sapling bending away from sunlight. A sapling with mouth like howler monkey. And no ears. Think he knows everything but he doesn’t know anything. He need to listen. Listen like Smilk. Smilk understand. Smilk gets it.

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Int. Gregory Bone’s Orphanage. Night

Written by Pep Mandarin

Pep: please don’t go o brother of mine

Pip: beloved sister, if it was up to me I would stay with you for eternity and a day, but that mean man Hardcastle has tricked me and I now serve him and his stupid cause

Pep: please take me with you!

Pip: no, I could not in good conscience put you in danger. I love you too much for a life of hardship

Pep cries and hugs her brother’s leg tightly, refusing to let go

Pip: now now little one, you don’t have to be sad, I shan’t be gone long! Why don’t you write me while I am away? We can both practice our penmanship and be the bestest of friends

Pep: R-really?

Pip: of course little one, what have I always said?

Pep: family is Important?

Pip: and?

Pep: we always stay together?

Pip: see you later Pep. may the weather for your tea party be a pleasant 24 degrees (Celsius)

Pep: not too hot, not too cold

Pip & Pep together: just right

Pip and Pep hug. Pop is jealous.

The End

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Here’s a horse, go track that very fast moving carriage. Why yes, it is indeed strange that all the creepy crawlies of Barovia know not to attack them. Why, isn’t it strange that those same creepy crawlies don’t owe me the same courtesy? Who do they think I am? Assassin Vine? It's just not cricket. Should have said to take me with them, drop me off outside the gates. Don’t worry! I won’t sneak into your spooky and terrifying probably full of ghosts castle, quite the opposite in fact. Just pinky promise me you won’t make a meal out of my meal ticket out of here and I’ll promise not to pay someone to drive a stake through your heart.

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Loud ones make good herald. Voices carry. Strong. Like oak. Didn’t think little dragon man would do that. Only small problem. If need to, should be easy kill.

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Once again I find myself wanting to help and I am yet again without the tools to do so. Moments ago I was prepared to kill these poor souls and now I'm racking my brain trying to think of ways to aid them. Why can't I let this go? Why must you take in every stray you come across? You have a mission. Kill Strahd. Or stop him. A monumentous and impossible task. But let's say it's achievable, will that solve anything? Or will that leave the people of Barovia unknowingly vulnerable? Is he really the unsung protector of these lands? If he is, he's not doing a very good job. Honestly, he spends more time sending out his generals to attack his own populace than providing any sort of protection. Or at least that's what I assume he's been doing. Speaking of generals, I wonder how Pip is going? The man led a small militia, a rag tag group of - I should be paying attention to what's going on, everything has calmed down but the wind is beginning to unnaturally pick up.

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I do not know why he keeps yelling at me when I bring him back from the brink of dead. It’s not that he is ungrateful, or perhaps he is? I do not think he has a death wish. If that were the case, surely he’d have taken any of the many opportunities that has arisen before now. He seems more displeased at the choice of song, but it is just a spell!

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This one has yet to hear from that one or the other one. Why they so rude? Don't they know this one need to know if they go on perilous journey? If metaphor happen and they don't tell, how will audience understand and know greatest journey has deep meaning? This would be great tragedy. 

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On the Hunt Must be quick. Druid power grow stronger. Must fight. Must destroy. Must kill.

Editor's note: around the 40 minute mark we switched microphones for a session, turns out that wasn't a: great choice. Apologies for the next few eps xx o

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