It seems my companions have doubts about my virtuous quest, and I understand their concerns. Algon certainly is a path I do not wish to follow, but it is hard to communicate that I am given divine power only so that I may vanquish evil from all lands. Were I ever to err in judgement, Iomedae would met out punishment swiftly and severely. If only they could see the auras, the darkness their hearts radiates, the terrible taste of the air surrounding those most foul.
It does not help my cause that evil has taken to deception. They cry, cry out that we’re trespassing on them, that we’re hindering their personal quests for good, when their word is as trustworthy as their soul. Black and twisted beings capable of the most benign guises. Likewise, the unicorn’s torment of a creature that has yet to actually become evil, by stealing its rightfully earned apple. I suppose not everyone is capable of living as a disciple of Iomedae, but it does no justice to prance about those weaker than you.
The world we’ve entered, it seems, is truely one vast machine. We spoke with the maintainer of the cogs and instruments controlling every part of this land, and although he was loathe to show his face, we did manage a token out of it. It seems he has bad blood with a Marzalee, and took us for assassins. Assassin, what a venemous name. Assassins are simply shadowy thugs whose morals are nonexistent, and whose principles have an easily met price. If we do run across Marzalee, I will have to look into her reasons for attempting assassination. Their death would cause this world to fall into disrepair, and the denizens who do not succumb to evil’s bittersweet fruit would have terrible things befall them. I must get to the bottom of this.