Dear Di'ry,

Thought it prudent ta start keepin' bett'r notes after me recent... 'adventure'. Ya see, me mate, Balabar, recently contacted me in th' Free City 'bout some worms that got 'im all shaken up. Lit'le green buggers that some cult in some mine dug up. So I come to Diamond Lake and begun me research. I come to find 't's all part o' some nigh-apocalypse called th' Age 'O Worms.

'Nyways, I'm mindin' me own business, tryin' to find out how to save Oerth from impendin' doom, when these adventurers come burstin' in, yellin' something 'bout abominations, and that I'm some kinda monster, or somethin'. I'm not 'xactly sure, but I think there was six or seven people all swarmin' in on me. And some big liz'rd thing. I couldn't so much as cast a single spell 'fore I was barely conscious on me back. Then, when I try to git up to surrender, their 'alf-orc bounded on me and gouged out me bleedin' eye! Now ta be fair, one of them weren't too bad. Fact is, if not for 'er, I prolly woulda' bled ta death. Right like that, all in a few seconds.

I finally come to, tied to a chair in the 'ome of Allustan, the "Bloody Smartest Man in the Bloody Town." For two days. Straight. The 'ole time it's the bloody-fucking third degree. "Filge, 'ew were those people? Filge, wut do you know 'bout these worms? 'Ow can you study such evil, black Arts? Filge, 'ow 'bout you tell all you know or we'll gouge out the other eye, with a bleedin' spoon?" They all kept lookin' at me like I was some kinda' evil demon, just 'cuz I 'appen ta study Necromancy. Only thing worse wuz the 'alf-orc punchin' the ever-loving snot outta me. Always. Every time 'e walked by. 'Nother punch to the jaw. Surprised it didn't break.

Know what? That's one 'a the reasons I am a Necromancer, the undead don't judge. I know everyone else does. Bloody Bastards.

So they finally let me go, leavin' me to my now-empty observatory. And I mean lit'rally empty. The only things left were me in-progress project, and a lone tomb mote. And th' only reason Motey even made it wuz 'cause 'e wuz deliverin' a message to Balabar for me. Not like that stoopid bird. Couldn't even told me that a 'alf-dozen people were stompin' around me 'ome. Glad I got rid 'a that nuisance. All 'e ever did wuz crap on everythin' anyways...

So now they're always stoppin' by like they own the bloody place, just ta make sure that I'm not makin' any 'orrible, reprehensible, unnatural undead. That they don't understand. Even though they 'ave my research books. And my Spellbook. They even 'ave me bloody medical tools. And on top 'a it all, they want me ta keep researching this 'hole Age 'O Worms thing. Without my afore-mentioned books. That took weeks to find. That I bought. With my own money.

'Nyways, I gotta go, cuz I think Thomas is 'ere again to look through the Observatory. Again. For Undead. That I don't 'ave the resources to raise.

At least Motey is with Balabar.