July 19, 1812
My god the beer! Here I sit at the Hanged Misfit, trying to convince the barkeep, Katie Calhoun, to let me make a blueprint of the inner workings of the fascinating automaton that has been serving me beers all night.
Only then had I seen the most remarkable pendant around Katie's neck. It was of Native design, and by the looks of it was fairly old. These silver skull crosses seem to be an old ritual charm who's legend has it that the savage folk of the island thought it to protect against the possession of demons and evil spirits.
The curse of this charm is that it is said to make the owner more susceptible to the wails of the demons as they whisper and cry at the wearer to remove the bauble and let them in.
When I asked the barkeep on this, she just gave a knowing smile and handed me another beer. I really must do an entry on this beer, and the establishment. How many have I had?
Rotus Nurglin
Rotus Nurglin woke up outside Derby the next day, holding his head and wondering why he was trampled by elephants in the night. The image of barkeeps turned into a nightmare as he remembers making a bet with the local gentlemen to strip down, cover himself in honey and run into the jungle. He doesn't remember what the bet was for, but he does know he won and should collect his earnings if he ever remembered the fellows name.
