People don’t realise but the true burden of a Monster Hunter isn’t the detective work, or the ignorant villagers, or even fighting the monster itself. It’s the knowledge. The knowledge of what these monsters are actually capable of, how bad it is, the true consequences of failure. That if you make one mistake, draw the wrong conclusion, pick the wrong entry, people die. That even if you do everything at your disposal, there’s a very good chance that you will still fail, and that people will hold it against you for as long as you live. If you cannot imagine the shape of the things that go bump in the night, well, you should consider yourself very lucky.

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A funny thing about faith is you don’t have to be religious to have it. We are told many things when we are growing up, when we are younger, before we even experience the world. A long list of things to not do, places not to go, people not to trust, words that are forbidden and on and on and on. Don’t go outside with damp hair, you’ll catch a cold. Don’t venture out alone into the woods, you’ll be eaten by wolves. Don’t touch the kettle, you’ll burn yourself. So you stay inside, never to go exploring, and you do not touch the kettle. And you are thankful because you are safe and you did not burn yourself. But you can never really know for sure if the kettle was hot or not. It could have all been a little white lie to protect your loved ones. After all, why unnecessarily risk the safety of your child’s fingers if he does reach for the hot metal? Best to be just precautions. Best to lie. You don’t have to be religious to have a crisis of faith. 

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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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Well Hecktor has gone and left us to fend for ourselves, great, just perfect. Plus everyone hates me, which I suppose isn't that unusual. What was it the monks at the monastery used to say? "Not only are you at your chores young Mandarin, you are also unlikeable in some undefinable way unrelated to the things you say or do." Oh and now we're fighting spiders. Capital.

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I wish it didn't end this way, but just as day gives way to night, the sun has set on this man's life. As your warming rays begin to fade, we look back and find solace in a life well spent. May their memory, like the sun's enduring embrace, continue to bless us from the heavens. We pray that your radiant light leads them to their eternal sunset. And just as night returns to day, we welcome the oncoming dawn as your light chases away the shadow.

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...

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I will do everything to ensure that My Lady is prot- YOUR LADY? SOMEONE SO DEVINE WOULD NEVER LOOK AT YOU AS ANYTHING OTHER THAN A WORM! A worm!? I am Wizard Supreme! YOU are the worm! And I’ll make sure I turn you into one with a simple flick of my wrist! HAHAHA I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY! YOUR STUPID SPELLS WILL JUST BOUNCE OFF MY SUPERIOR AND WELL DEFINED MUSCLES! AS THE FIRST BARBARIAN I WILL CRUSH YOUR SILLY SPELL WITH NO EFFORT! Wait you fool! If Our Lady is One with Nature surely being a worm would strengthen the bonds that tie us?! YOU MUST TURN ME INTO A WORM AT ONCE YOU STUPID WIZARD!

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Pip continues to attempt to lead this ragtag confederacy in the absence of Hecktor. I wouldn't necessarily say that he's doing a bad job. As that would imply that he's at least doing the job at all. Perhaps now that he's once again in charge of a group of men, it's bringing back old memories and that's making him make mistakes.

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I hope this is not a mistake, I hope this is the right choice. If there's a chance we can end this with no more bloodshed, no matter how small that chance is, wouldn't I be a fool to not take that chance? He can lead them in my stead. He's done it before and I know it did not end well. But he's grown since then. He has faith. I just hope the faith he puts in me he can put into himself. It would be much better spent.

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