Razma's Journal #7

For a long time, I drifted between worlds. I dreamed of lives that I never lived, faces that I never knew, loves that I never had. And in one of my dreams, I found the answer. But I must return to the city. And I dare not do that alone. I don\'t know where they found me, these rough people dressed in the skins of hyenas. They carried me back to their camp - somewhere north of the city, and left me sleeping on a pile of furs by one of their tents. I don\'t think they expected me to wake up. I\'ve been watching them while pretending to sleep. There is something very strange going on. Their body language is wrong. I grew up on the streets of Asgalun and I could read the body of a haggling merchant before I could walk. But these people... They remind me of the mangy curs that used to wander the streets, begging for scraps. They stand too close. They sniff at one another. When one of them shouts, the others cower. I need to get out of here. They are gathering in the old arena among the ruins, howling like hyenas. They are performing some ritual. A naked man is cloaked in a blood soaked Hyena skin. I dare not waste this chance. I must slip away. I will go west and find Jakkad\'s people. I\'m going to need their help.