Day Forty-One: A world not contained by four walls is terrifying

Hey, diary. Remember how I said that I was bad at this guarding thing? The job where I’m supposed to stand around all day with a weapon, ‘cept I can’t do the weapon thing since for some weird reason I’ve never, ever been able to hold or use anything pointy or blunt on another living creature?

Yeah. Well, I’ve decided that there’s one thing I’m worse at: adventuring. I can’t be an adventurer. What kind of an adventurer wanders around with no weapons and expects to survive?

Me, apparently. ‘cause that’s what I am now, more or less: an adventurer.

Let me explain. When I fucked up with the foulfungus powder, I was brought before the king. Jeffrey wasn’t happy about what I’d done. He actually wanted to crucify me on the spot. Captain Cedric was also there, and he looked ready and willing to do just that.

The Baron stopped both of 'em from gutting me, though. He told me why I was in the throne room rather than the dungeon: because I wasn’t sick. The doctors in Castle WhoopWhoop think that I’ve been exposed to foulfungus for so long that I’ve developed a weird immunity to it. That means I’m, like, one of the only not-sick people in the castle who can wear armour. Even my little baby is getting sick! Poor Eve!

I have to go looking for a cure. Which means I need to leave the castle for a while and adventure. Which means… adventurer. Adventurer without weapons or direction.

Gulp.

I’ve been outside the castle before, obviously. S'not like I was born here. The problem is, I’ve never gone alone. Not for any longer than a few minutes, and never further than the queen's tree. What will happen? I can’t defend myself! I’m gonna get my ass thwomped, diary! Especially here, on the plains, during mongoose season!

You know what season comes next? Zombie season! Hordes of the undead roaming from one place to another, looking for food! I’m so screwed.

I tried to whine about all this to Libby, but she turned over and went back to sleep. Didn't hit me or anything. She’s really sick. If the doctors are right, things will only get worse, and in a couple months everyone will be dead. Including my, uh, darling wife, and our bloodthirsty child.

No pressure.

I’m setting out tomorrow. Tonight I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much.

Yikes,

Dragomir the Adventurer