With the farmstead secure, the odd group that came to aid against the dog-men, have accepted me to join them on their journey. A rowdy and unruly lot, at least that’s my first impression of them. Oh well, as long as their antics are kept without a Dwarf as the victim, this should be, in the lack of a better word, acceptable. Their objective isn’t quite clear to me yet, I heard some talk of a monastery, must be the Silver Oak one near Athlin. I’ve heard it mentioned a couple of times, but nothing more specific as to where or what. The group seems, mostly, honourable enough, the Half-orc Paladin appears to be of high spirits at all times, and to my surprise, the voice of reason in a lot of situations. I was not impressed with the amount of air, to the amount of dog-men, her axe managed to strike though. Must be the Orcish side in her. There’s a glimmer of toughness to her, even out of battle, and she seems bent on acting in fairness, or at least what she deems as “fairness”.
I was happy to see a Halfing amongst the group, someone else to take the top off the “you’re the short one here” jokes, she’s a wee lass. Nimble, fast and seems devious. The kind of person you’d have to watch out for, when guarding a caravan. I don’t know if she enjoys the center of the action, or if she’s just that much faster than anyone else, but her armour and twin daggers are obviously not meant for locked down combat, granted the dog-men weren’t exactly equipped for it either, but any longer battle isn’t her deal. Or maybe it is; a suicidal Halfling, or maybe a Halfling seeking glory in combat? Who knows other than herself? My first impression is, that she makes some hasty choices, without always thinking them through first. Reasonable and friendly, as any Halfling I’d ever met. She seems to partake little in the antics and theatrics, though I think she enjoys being entertained, as long as it is not her on the receiving end.
The two Tieflings, as if one wasn’t enough, appear as agents of chaos. Admitted, their abilities are useful in combat, and they don’t seem to let their antics endanger a friend in combat. I didn’t even catch the one’s name, the group seems to mostly refer to him as just “That Tiefling”. I think it’s wiser, for my own safety and sanity, to keep a distance to them. At least for now.
The bard acts as the instigator, though his bardic talents seems… Well, hard to describe, I haven’t really experienced them yet. He seems keen on joking about the Halfling’s height, possibly something I’ll have to endure as well, though I’m sure a well-placed gauntlet or boot can make him regret that. He also seems to enjoy putting That Tiefling in distress out of battle. The very idea of potentially endangering someone without a purpose; I can only shake my head at the thought.
I find the mage Mariah to be a little distant towards the rest of the group, mayhaps that her wisdom makes her able to not join in on the antics. Reasonable and level-headed, she seems just and, unlike most of the others, actually skilled at her craft. I don’t particular enjoy the use of magic, but even I’d admit that the ability to hurl something, seemingly out of nowhere, with great force at enemies is quite handy.
Along with the group are also two Knights, I haven’t been able to converse with them, they appear to keep to themselves. The task must be one of importance, as the knights seems to dislike the group taking detours, but perhaps a chance to strike up a conversation shall rise soon enough.
We’d been trudging along the grassy hills for quite a while, when someone suddenly realised that we had not checked the dog-men bodies for loot. I would have dismissed the chance of finding anything, the dog-men weren’t really wearing anything that could conceal any loot, and their equipment was… crude, almost insulting to any person with just the slightest idea of working a forge and anvil. But a majority found it a good idea, though the knights DID try to keep the focus on the task. Apparently, I’m not alone in seeking fortune here.
Returning to the farmstead, we found that a large number of the very dead dog-men, wasn’t laying as corpses where we left them. And there didn’t appear to be any signs of something burrying or devouring the corpses, the idea of undead dog-men struck my mind slightly, but I shook it out again, as I began to loot one of the deceased creatures. The smell, a mixture of fried, wet and slightly rotting dog, was almost as bad as when I had cleared out a Goblin nest along with some of the other caravan guards. The others also seemed to be less than pleased with the stench. Maybe it kept them from concentrating, but none of them appeared to actually find anything of importance. I found a small pouch, worn leather and a simple string with a couple of coins in it. Well, all fortunes start small.
Turning a bit more south, we had the distant mountains on our left, a feeling of loneliness struck me, but there was no certainty of Dwarves residing in these mountains. Over the next hill, the grass had turned a darker green, the grass was taller, thicker, as if untouched by cattle or wanderers. Several white areas seemed to dot the grass, it seemed very strange. It seemed the wisest to be cautious, but where there is caution, there is also curiosity. And where there’s curiosity, there is also stupidity. That Tiefling went over and literally poked his bare hand into the white mass of… whatever it was. In the blink of an eye, a large shadow rushed out of the whiteness, and lashed it’s fangs into the skin of that Tiefling’s hand. A massive, black spider. And it did not seem pleased. As that Tiefling withdrew in surprise and pain, the spider lashed out again, seemingly doing a lot of damage. The Paladin rushed over, battle-axe in hand, and Mariah was preparing some kind of spell.
Meanwhile, Liri, the Halfling, had chosen a wiser, though still risky way of investigating the webs; poking it with daggers. As on a rail, another large spider came forth, finding itself facing Liri and myself, I had been staying a few feet from the web, I was not going to touch those things. At least not with something that could get stuck or get bitten. The spider started attacking Liri before I could react, but it never seemed to be any real danger. I wouldn’t want to miss out on the action, one can never be too sure. In a fluent move, I stepped forward in the tall grass, cautious not to step into the web, and swung my hammer at the spider’s face. It gave a nice loud crack as metal struck and broke the carapace plate, but the spider wasn’t defeated yet. I had my shield up, ready for the spider to come at me, in the moment before it was about to lunge, I heard a faint, but powerful whisper in the air. An insult of some kind, directed at the spider? Peaking over my shoulder, the bard stood, pointing fingers at the spider. What, are you going to sing it to death? Apparently, the whispers worked, and the spider encased itself in web and stopped moving.
Meanwhile, the other spider had been dealt with, the Paladin had taken a few hits, though nothing serious. There was an anxious feel in the air, as we all could see more of the webbed areas. But despite the commotion of the battle, no-more spiders appeared. After a short debate, we agreed upon leaving the rest of the webs and potential spiders be; the spiders seemed only to come forth when their nests were disturbed. Not making the same mistake twice, we decided to loot the destroyed nests, but sadly not much of value was found. Other than remains of humanoid origin and tufts of fur, similar to that of the dog-men. It seemed like the plains where bristling with life… And not-life.
Keeping a close eye on that Tiefling, just in case of him wanting to poke another nest, we moved back to the trail once more, heading south-east again. We came across yet another farmstead. Here the farmers seemed calm, and reacted defensively towards requests of being evacuated to Athlin and the Silver Oak Monastery. They explained that the spiders acted as natural defense, eating marauders, bandits and other no-gooders. With silent and unseen nods, we agreed amongst the group to not mention to the farmers, that we killed a couple of their defense. I wasn’t exactly sure if this was the right thing to do, but the farmers seemed sure that they were safe. I hope they are right. They offered us shelter and food for the night, but it was only afternoon. And, after one of the knights pointed out, that we’d gone only about some 15 miles, due to the detour with the spiders, and going back to loot the dog-men, so she suggested that we instead made way further south.
Walking along the foot of the mountains, we discovered a path in the stone of some sort, and after a short walk, we came upon a sealed Dwarven door. I had no idea that there would be, excuse me, have been other Mountain Dwarves here. Then again, most of the remaining Mountain Dwarf strongholds, are pretty secluded, and not really in contact with other settlements. The runes on the frame of the door seemed to spell something out, I was hoping to discover why this hold, or outpost, was abandoned. Alas, all I found was the name of this stronghold, “Herndarum”. I fear I may have led my fellow travel mates down, I’m a Dwarf, and could tell them nothing except for the name of this place. The barren stones here seemed completely devoid of life, no animals and no plants. We decided to not investigate further, and with a heavy heart, I returned along the others back to the foot of the mountains. My thoughts go out to the Dwarves who lived here, may they have found greener pastures and not an untimely demise.
Around evening-time, the landscape finally changed from the grassy plains. The ground became less and less solid; dirt turned to mud, and mud turned to murky, stagnant water. We had entered the northern part of The Moonlit Mire. To survey our plans forward, the knights pointed out how dangerous and deceiving the swamp could be. One of the two remaining knights had knowledge of this swamp, or at least experience with moving through swamps in general, took point as we huddled together what ropes we had, tying all group members by the waist (and the Halfing under her armpits) in a long chain. What with the size of the others in the group, apart from Liri, I would not be able to see much, so before anyone else, I called it and said that I would take point after the knight. Would also give me a fair chance of finishing a fight on my own. The group seemed to almost all want to be in the rear part of the chain, though I’m uncertain why. It ended up with that Tiefling right behind me, and the Halfling next in line after that. The second knight took the rear, and the others were in between that.
Our progress was slow, but, I must admit, with the knight’s guidance, the trudge was uneventful. Perhaps for this reason, my mind began to wander, I thought I saw something appearing in the surface of a mud bank, then disappearing short after. The distance was too great for me to make out, what it actually was, but, as if guided by my curiosity (and the fact that I was distracted from the knight’s guidance), I continued forward where the knight had made a turn. before I could react, the solid ground seemed to vanish beneath me, and the icky water reached up to my arm-pits. I tried wiggling back, flailing my arms in a hopeless attempt to pull myself up, but just then, something seemed to grab tightly around my right boot. I was about to pull on both parts of the rope that I was tied with, but then thinking about it, neither that Tiefling nor the knight seemed granduos in strength, and likely, it would more be me pulling them in, than them pulling me out. And the Tiefling would probably make a big fuss about it. Instead, I just turned my head over my shoulder, and called out, without distress in my voice, “Uh… I may be a wee bit stuck here, some help please?” I could hear the knight groan audibly. To my surprise, that Tiefling actually listened, and didn’t try any of those magic tricks of his. Though the pull was light, it was enough resistance for me to haul myself up.
It didn’t feel like whatever was clamped around my boot, had any force of it’s own, and as I got out of the muk, I lifted my foot and discovered why; a skeletal hand, with no arm or person attached. The hand seemed to wiggle, and I swear, that Tiefling almost fainted at the sight. We moved towards an area that appeared to have larger mounds of solid ground, above water-level as well. There was just enough room to camp down for the night, and needing some shut-eye, I took first guard. Joining me was that Tiefling, who claimed something along the lines of the “early night time being less dangerous”, I don’t think there’s any proof to that claim. The knight, who took the rear guard, also joined the first shift. Nothing happened during the watch, except we saw some odd blue lights circling something quite far out in the swamp. We decided not to act upon it, the danger of the mire’s murky water, plus that Tiefling being squeamish. We woke up the next guard shift.
Almost as soon as I sat down, as there wasn’t room to lie down, even for a Dwarf, my eyelids grew heavy. Though I didn’t get much sleep that night. The sound of combat, got me up and ready. The first thing I noticed, was that the rope was cut, and that Tiefling was no longer bound to me. Next, as I looked out over the mire, I noticed the Halfling getting pummeled by the blue lights from before, in the glints of lightning, I saw what looked like a crate of some kind. Liri’s cries for help were pitiful to say the least, as she really didn’t seem to do well against the blue lights. The distance was pretty far, and it’s not like I’m exactly trained in using my light crossbow, but lodging a bolt and pulling the weapon to my chin. The dry thunk of the bolt shooting off into the night, seemed louder than the other times I had fired it. I saw one of the blue lights flicker a tiny bit, my shot must have hit somehow, though if the Halfling did little damage, my bolt had done even less. Eventually, we managed to defeat the lights, and Liri returned to looting the crate. Sadly, it’s contains were meager and of little interest. Going back to a sitting sleep, the rest of the night went on without further disturbances.
The next morning we managed to trudge further north, the mounds of solid ground became bigger and with less distance between them, some thoughtful souls had even taken the time to place down rounded logs, serving as small bridges. On one particular large mound, we saw something really strange: A growth of some sort, with a pair of legs wiggling halfway into it. Surely, if you got stuck in a bush like that, all you had to do was push yourself back out. Well, unless you were piss-drunk out of your senses, of course. Feeling curious, we managed to pull the individual out. To my, and I think others’, surprise, the person was covered in some sort of sludge. And it seemed we managed to disturb… something. The bush game to life, and suddenly a huge mass of vines and plant-matter rose and started attacking us. The Bard told it something that, apparently made it flee to another mound, I’m not entirely sure how that works. Either way, the Halfling and the Half-orc decided to follow the thing, to fight it. Both of them managed to make jump across. Despite of there being an absolutely perfect dry, and safe, route to get there, crossing the wooden logs. Drawing my warhammer, I went the long way around. Which apparently didn’t exactly fall well with the Bard, who, just as I was reaching the plant-thing, inspired me to leap at the creature. Ten feet, which I would easily have covered normally, but noooo, someone had to be picky about it. Didn’t see himself in the fray, but not minding sending others into danger? Seems like something a ruthless commander would do. I’ll keep in mind to whack him a bit around later.
Both the paladin and the Halfling had their troubles with the large thing, it’s large vine-arms seemed like living clubs. Meanwhile, the rest of our band tried to deal damage from afar. I say tried, because it wasn’t really effective. With a shrug, I swung my hammer against the mass, it did hit, but as I halfway expected, it didn’t do much. You don’t cut trees down with a hammer, you use an axe. Sadly, I didn’t bring one. The thing lifted both “arms” at me, I readied myself for the attack. Stung like crazy, and suddenly I found myself being lifted upwards, and before I could react, I was the one being digested inside the plant monster. There was no air, and i could feel the sludge sting and burn, trying to dissolve me. I kept my breath, when you’ve been in the depths of a mine, you know that the air is bad. It was a while since I had last been in a mine, good times though, but some things never truly leave you. I could hear the sounds of struggle, my travel mates were trying to slay the thing. They weren’t exactly being quick about it. I would have to endure a little longer. I tried to push myself out, but to no avail at first, my strength was failing me. My fate… was it to end by a bush? No glory in that, this was no Necromancer in black armour on a horse, no fire-breathing Dragon… this… a PLANT, should be the end of me? It’d be a lie, that much I’d tell you.
With a forceful push, I managed to get myself out, with no help from anyone at all. Still holding both shield and warhammer, I was back, and it was time to whack this overgrown piece of weed into submission. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Tiefling somehow turn into a plant in a ceramic pot. Which pretty much sums up how useful everyone except the Halfling and the Half-orc was being. I gave a couple of swings to the swamp-creature, the first one struck clean, but I must have gotten some sludge in my eye, as the other one missed completely. Eventually we managed to bring the plant-monster into a state of “no longer alive”. Meanwhile, the knights had tended to the person, and brought him back to life. An Elf. No wonder he’d have trouble getting himself out of the plant, Elves are all smooth legs and skin, not much in terms of strength. I began wiping myself off, the strings holding my beard in braids and my hair in a knot, had been dissolved. Didn’t feel like my beard had taken damage though. I began sieving through the plant remains, I found an odd leather pouch. I opened it and saw some documents of some kind, without taking them out for further inspection. Something inside me, told me it belonged to the Elf, and as he was alive, that would be considered as stealing. Had he died, it’s contents would have been mine, a little something for my troubles. Instead, I handed the pouch to the Half-orc, who seemed having little trouble digging through the pouch, though she didn’t actually take anything. The Elf, apparently from a place somewhere southwest of the mire, claimed to be a courier.
With that over with and done, we ventured further east and north, still only clinging to the foot of the mountains. I couldn’t wait to be out of the mire, to feel safe amongst dry rocks. We followed the stream of the river, and eventually the water turned from green and brown to a more clear blue. We halted by a lake, a much needed bath as opportune here. And I wasn’t alone in that thought… Even though I was the only one who had actually experienced something that needed a washing. One of the myths about Dwarves, that I’ve heard, is that Dwarves despise water. As a drink, it’s true. But Dwarves take showers too, some are actually pretty decent swimmers, not me though, and freshly caught fish, simmering in a mead-sauce, is quite the treat indeed. I turned my back to the group as I got out of my chain-mail and dark-green garments, placing them in a neat bundle near the shore, along with the rest of my gear; my backpack, crossbow, warhammer and shield. The water was cold, but refreshing, it was quite pleasant.
But not all pleasantries last, with this group I find that they rarely do. Suddenly that Tiefling rushed, bare-naked as the day he was born, out of the water, faster than Goblin realising all his mates are dead, and he’s going to be next. The others also got out of the water, though I’m not sure if they were chasing by, or spooked by the Tiefling screaming. What an obnoxious person indeed.
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