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Captain's Log.
With BurnedToast's gentle coaxing (telling me to get my arse into gear), I have finally ventured out to trade with the elves.
Quietly hiding those items made from leather, bone, or wood, I was mainly limited to stuff recovered by the goblins, and of course our stone carved items.
Pretty much all of it was filthy with mud, vomit, blood and more blood.
This didn't seem to fuss them however.
I guess Elves are used to filth.
I did notice them regarding me with a certain level of fear, however.
Apparently I am now legend. Known across the lands as Captain Ironblood, the Just Wonder of Ink.
I don't know what the hell that means, but why complain about a good thing?
While I was trading, the boy Nil apparently snapped.
He started clucking like... some sort of bird... that clucks.
He tore off all his clothes, but that's alright, because he was entirely covered in mud. Also in vomit.