Dear Diary,
Me and the sobre ones found a welcome party at the bottom of the stairs.
They were very enthusiastic, but their greetings left me with a lot of cuts and bruises.
After we beat the tar out of them, we cornered a gimpy looking Shaman and interrogated him.
I was too busy urinating on all the rubble and furniture* to pay much notice to what he was saying, but everyone else seemed fairly excited so we let the little bastard go and had a little rest.
I tried using one of my fancy rituals to help them out, but the ungrateful bastards laughed at me when it backfired.
I'll just save my rituals for preserving corpses to carry around in my sack from now on.
Later on we encountered some more zombie dogs, but I didn't get naked this time, I just protected the crap out of them in the name of Bahamut until they died.
You see, at the monastery, Brother Might always said:
"The undead, if left alone, will only hurt themselves with their low dexterity modifiers and weak constitution stats: it's best to protect them from themselves by decapitating them with your spear."
Ho-hum, time for some more ale and then some more slaughter.
*To mark where we had searched for treasure.
