The Events of 2nd January, 2020

I woke in town, known as Murat Zhanders, to meet some folk my parents had asked me to chaperone, kindly, to their ultimate destination. Sadly scarce details, I know.
 
They seem to be decent, even the one fellow, the bard - a prophet of mendacity to be sure.
 
It seems that my life , and its many choices have left with an equal distaste for, and capacity to, kill the unwelcome. I cannot tolerate this, and once the blood-ardor has cooled, I am left a shell for a time. This is not a curse unknown to men and women of my particular trade. Usually it afflicts them later, and they end up in the gutter or special homes.
 
The bugbears, foul monsters, did not properly submit, and upon threatening our party with continued malice, we summarily dispatched to their own equally foul gods. I took an ear for the dead.
 
The burgomeister was cursed, then was not. He seemed nice. I set the bard, Merchant of Veracity, up with a local.
 
Perhaps True love with plant the seed of honesty in his heart where in it must be barren....