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[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

Today I met some adventurers that I think I’ll wind up traveling with. They were all passing through my village this week, some just traveling, some looking for work, and we wound up talking outside of Old Filber’s place. Let me tell you how it happened.

I was walking back from the village where I’d been to study more spell targeting stuff with that weird human wizard, Felster. He’s lived in our gnomish village for about a million years, and everyone knows him. Since, as you, my Diary, know that every since my great-great-grandma Bonicka fell in love with one of those sprites or pixies or whatever, my family have had a strain of magic running through them quite different than the typical gnomic illusions. I needed training for my magic, as the power of the fey breeds true through our bloodline. I’d been tossing around “magic missiles” all day long, and I was QUITE tired from all that, when I saw two dwarves leaning over the fence at Old Filber’s farm, watching the cows, I guess, which is a bit strange for dwarves to be doing. Not that I know anything about dwarvish habits, mind you, I’m just saying what I saw.

Anyway, they were just leaning over the fence, and let me tell you, these two were all muscle-y! One looked kind of wild, with a big sword strapped to his back, and the other had this holy symbol of two crossed axes, and an axe at his belt, and his shield had two crossed axes like he was some sort of religious freak or something. I walked past em and they gave me a good look, up and down, y’know, like they were looking at something special (Yea, that’d be ME).

SO, I gave em the stare back. The wild one looked at me unmoving, like he’d look at me all day, and the other one looked away and said something to the other. SO I walked over to em and said, “Don’t you two have anything better to do than look at pretty gnome girls walking by?”

From the bushes on the other side I heard, “Can there be anything better to do?” and this halfling came out, holding one of Old Filber’s chickens.

Now, you and I know that Old Filber is as blind as a bat and couldn’t count his chickens whether they were hatched or not, but I gave em a look and said, “If Old Filber caught you with that chicken, he’s roast you for sure!”

They didn’t seem too impressed. The wild one, with the muscles, just sat there and looked at me. The halfling just winked at me, and said “Well, if Old Filber catches us, we’ll have to deal with him then, won’t we?”

They called my bluff, so I sort of backed down. I asked them, “What are you guys doing around here anyway?”

They told me that they had all left their homes to find adventure, and that so far they hadn’t had much luck.

Then I popped out with, “Well, that’s because you need some gnomish luck!”

To make a long story short, I had to show ‘em some stuff before they’d take me in, but I really impressed ‘em with my magic. Adventure, here I come!

Dear Diary,

I’m a little bothered today. My parents sure didn’t make much of a fuss when I told them I was leaving. I also didn’t know that gnome families had “adventure sacks” prepared for when their kids went adventuring. I’d told them about the other adventurers, and they seemed really pleased even relieved! No head shaking or hand wringing at all! Just, “Here’s your bag, and good luck!” Weird.

Dear Diary,

Oof. One long day of walking. After walking with these guys a while, I can tell you about them. Maybe more than you want to know.

Gimil, the Dwarf. He’s the wild one. He doesn’t talk much, and seems kind of dangerous, like he’s always on the alert or something. He carries a big sword, and he’s really tall for a dwarf. He thinks humans are disgusting.

Ratlin, the Halfling. He talks a lot, and seems like he won’t stop moving. He runs ahead and scouts then runs back at tells us he hasn’t seen anything. Then he runs back out to scout. He’s pretty quiet when he runs, but that doesn’t make up for his running at the mouth.

Ord, the Priest. He’s the other dwarf. He’s says he’s a priest of Clangeddin, the God of War, but I still think he’s a little out there. I mean, he’s a priest and all, but can you just shut UP about the glories of Clangeddin for a little while? He’s nice otherwise. He and Gimil talk together a lot in Dwarvish, which Ratler can’t understand. I let on that I can’t understand them either, but I about lost it when they started comparing me to dwarf women. I mean, boobs the size of my head are eye-catching for men, but I think I’d rather have my gnomish “equipment”.

Dear Diary,

Another day of walking. Where is all this adventure I’m supposed to be finding? So far, it’s contending with dwarf gas and halfling chatter. No one told me adventuring would be so windy!

Dear Diary,

I’m really sad. We had some adventure, but we didn’t rescue the good guys.

We were coming up to a hill and we heard shouts and laughter in Goblinish. Ratler (Or Rat, as we now all call him), ran up to the crest of the hill and saw about 8 goblins torturing two human men near a wrecked wagon. Gimil rushed up to attack the goblins, racing past both Ord and Rat. I trotted down and tried to put the goblins doing the torturing into a magical slumber, but before I got there a goblin threw a spear into them and we had no chance to save them! That made me mad, so I threw spells right and left while Gimil and Ord slashed and chopped. I know that Gimil’s sword seems bigger than he is, but he whips it around like it’s a dagger! Whoosh! Slice!

Rat and I ran around afterward, dispatching the goblins I had slept. I hated them for killing those men. My father had fought goblins in the defense of our village, and there is nothing worse than goblins near a village. They never fight out fair, and always bother a town until some one takes care of em.

There was a wagon full of goods left, and Gimil saw tracks that led off into the hills with what was probably another wagon. All told, the goblins had killed 4 humans. They also got us angry. Tomorrow morning, we’ll show em!

Dear Diary,

We found the goblin cave about mid-morning. There were two sentries outside, but Rat and Gimil shot em with Crossbows, and down they went. The next two came out and I put em to sleep, so we could sneak in. We found 6 more total, going cave to cave. They were no match for Ord’s axe and Gimil’s sword.

We gathered up what loot we could and went back to where the wagon was left by the dead humans. We hitched the dwarves to the wagon, though after about three “Giddyup”s from me, Gimil turned back and gave me a look that changed my mind about the whole humor of the thing. For a while, at least. “Whoa, dwarf!” Hahaha! I wouldn’t want him to look at me like that again…

I’m getting used to the dwarves. Their humor is a bit crude, but they are stout warriors, and treat me like on of them, which I thought was pretty impossible. I mean, dwarves, by the beard of Glittergold! Who’d have thought them to be friendly? I guess they are impressed with my magical powers.

We camped about a half day’s travel from a small village. Tomorrow we’ll go in and see about who these humans were, give em a decent burial or something, and maybe sell some of this goblin equipment. The dwarves are complaining about lack of ale, so I guess we’d better take care of them before they turn ugly. Ok, uglier. Hahaha!

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

I think I’m starting to agree with Gimil. Humans are STUPID.

While the dwarves were heaving and straining (I don’ t think anyone would hire them as mules) and I was steering the cart, Ratlin was taking an inventory of the wagon. In it, he found:
Small chest – 5 gold, 16 silver, 31 copper. Big deal!
Three crates – linens, small chairs and tables, candles, string
3 boxes – children’s stuff, toys (a top!), clothes,
1 box – torn parchment, old maps, a journal of Erich of Haldefast (!), damaged books
Goblin stuff 12 sets studded leather, 12 half spears, 6 short bows, 100 arrows
12 gold, 20 silver, 157 copper, 3 gems, worth 25,25, 50 gold, and a potion of cure light wounds (written in common on the label)

No wonder the goblins were angry. The wagon they hijacked looked to be a household full of stuff. Some poor family was moving from one town to another, and now they’ll never see their new home, or see it furnished. The goblins were richer than the humans!

The journal contained partial spells, a few recipes and some rather nicely drawn sketches. The sketches included a landscape of two large hills and a twisted oak tree labeled "The Hills, Looking Toward Home" a small signpost near the tree is labeled Kharne’s Inn 2 Mi. with an arrow pointing off to the left.

I’d heard of Erich. I knew he was an evil necromancer type who had charged “tolls” for people crossing “his” roads. The King’s men had foiled one of his ambushes and killed him, but his stronghold was never found.

It’s a good thing the dwarves didn’t need to be steered, because I read through that journal and the sketches all the way into town. I read the bits and pieces and from the drawings, I thought I had figured out how to find at least where that sign was.

The group has decided to let me keep track of finances. I’m good with math, really. Better than Ratlin, that’s for sure.

We got into Kharne’s Inn, a small village, at about 2pm. The mayor was this guy named Jacob Kharne, and he was such a LUMP.

The first thing I did was to use some of the goblin’s treasure to buy some ale for the dwarves. Gimil and Ord sat at a table at the Inn, and with Ratlin’s help, finished off the better part of a small pony keg of ale while I talked to Jacob.

First, I asked him if he knew of any families moving into the area, and he said he hadn’t heard of any. I guess our wagon was destined for greater urban centers than Kharne’s Inn, population 400, 5 dogs, and a nervous stray cat.

Next, I asked him about Erich of Holdefast. Well, he wouldn’t’ stop talking! Turns out his dad was somehow involved with Erich, and knew of the battle when the King’s men had defeated him. I asked about his stronghold, and yep, just like I thought – no one had found it. I changed the subject quick so he wouldn’t’ get suspicious, and asked him about any shops that buy used equipment. He said there really wasn’t, but he’d take a look at what we had.

Sheesh! He offered about a hundred gold for everything! Equipment, linens, wagon, and all. I think Ratlin about choked on his ale, and Ord was making “No, No, No!” signals. He THOUGHT he was being discreet, but let me tell you, a dwarf on half a keg of ale is about as subtle as a naked ogre at a halfing picnic. I about had to pour another ale down his throat to get him to realize I wasn’t taking the deal. They must think we had just pulled from out of town! Well, I guess we did, with two dwarves pulling a wagon… Note to self: Be aware of the impression you make.

Jacob said there was a stable with a couple of mules, so I went about bought those while the boys stocked up with ale and food. They were so irked at the lousy deal that they decided to leave right away. I let Ord steer while I sat in the wagon and wrote. Gimil and Ratlin are scouting ahead for the trail. I think our beasts of burden are a step up from our last one Prettier, too! Hahaha!

Dear Diary,

We found the path! Gimil saw faint traces of old wagon ruts about 2 mile south of Kharne’s Inn, so we snuck the wagon into the path and decided to camp. I’m tired! I took out some of those linens and slept under the wagon. G’night Diary

Oops! News to the Diary before I go to sleep! Ratlin speaks dwarvish! I figured it out when Ord said something about me (typical man, it was about my body parts), and Ratlin blushed! Sneaky little halfling. G’night, again!

Dear Diary,

This morning I made breakfast! Ratlin’s been doing it so far, since he’s a halfling and thinks he’s the world’s greatest cook or something, but he went out this morning to scout a bit with Gimil, so I had to cook. I made flapjacks and sausage. The flapjacks were a little burnt, and they had funny little bits in them (Note to self: find out how Mom made her flapjacks not lumpy), but I did a little fairy magic on them to make them taste like the best flapjacks and the best sausages and everyone liked them. I sure didn’t appreciate all of Ratlin’s questions about where I learned to cook. I think he suspected something. I turned it into an argument, made him feel bad about being suspicious, and told him he can go ahead and cook every day then, so there! Cooking is not that much fun, really. I’d rather he do it. Hee hee.

After the argument, Gimil said that the path led into a little hidden valley, so we got the wagon going and followed the path. There was a fair amount of trees and stuff, and then we saw a small hill up ahead with a tower with a small building attached to it. We parked the wagon in some bushes, and started to sneak up on the tower.

A bad smell attacked us! Actually it was a horrible smell, and I was about to make a joke about dwarves and baths when I realized I didn’t smell unwashed dwarf! It was a small group of goblins who had died weeks ago and been turned into zombies or something! I shrieked, and Gimil and Ord rushed them. I fired a couple of kill undead rays at them, and we finished them off. Yuck!

We are now sitting under some trees and looking at the tower. We figure there may be more undead, so Ord did a spell that masked Ratlin from undead, and he’s scouting. On top of the tower are some skeletons, some with bows and one with a sort of bowl shaped thing that we can’t figure out. Ratlin’s coming back, more later. It’s getting towards evening.

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

What a day and night! Adventure! Loot! Battle! We are a great group! Gimil is a MIGHJTY warrior, Ord is a MIGHJTY cleric, and Ratlin is the sneakiest sneaker in the land!. I, of course, am MIGHTY in the ways of magic! M I GH T Y! Posy the Sorceress!

When Ratlin came back he said that there were two doors on the tower, one heavy and oak, the other one the other side of the building was lighter and had a lock that he picked, the stealthy little bugger. We figured we could move around to the back side of the tower and then rush to the back door and maybe get in before we were noticed by the skeletons on top of the tower.

Bad plan. We sent Ratlin ahead to throw the door open, and then when he signaled he was ready, we raced up the hill. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! We heard from the tower, and assorted arrow shots rained down on us. Luckily we were only exposed for a few seconds, and unluckily that the bowl shaped thing the skeleton was holding was a bell. Ratlin threw open the door, and inside was one of the biggest skeletons I have ever seen! It must have been 8 feet tall and had a huge spear in its hand.

Gimil rushed it and cracked at it with his sword and missed. Ord rushed in with his axe and took a swing at it and missed. I hung back and popped off an undead ray, and missed, too! Our luck got even worse when Ratlin tried to do a sort of flip and roll thing past it to get into the room and the skeleton skewered him with the spear! Ratlin screamed and backed away, I popped off another ray and missed, again!

Gimil was the only one that could connect the whole fight, and Gimil finally powdered it with a MIGHTY swing of his blade. Ord healed Ratlin up a bit, and we looked at the room quickly. (We could still hear the CLANG CLANG CLANG from the tower.)

Tattered, worn out clothing and broken furniture cluttered the floor. Most of the articles of clothing were a man’s garments, while the furniture was old and worn out. There was a door that led into the tower area, and we decided to rush it quickly before more of the occupants were alerted.

Gimil hit the door hard with his shoulder and bounced off. Ord hit with his shoulder and bounced off. I wanted to tell them to use something harder, like their heads, but they both hit it and the same time and it opened up to a large circular room that filled the entire inside of the tower. Four zombies were in the room and we fought them, dropping a couple by the time the skeletons from the tower came down, one still ringing that stupid bell. I shot some missiles at them and we powdered them after a bit.

A small fire was burning on an open hearth near the north wall. The room’s walls were white washed. A steep set of stairs went up the south wall and a rusted iron ladder was attached to the wall above the landing where the stairway abruptly ended. (This was where the skeletons came down.) A large canopied bed was in the center of the room with an ornate brassbound chest lying near its foot. On the east wall there a huge cabinet, while at its side is a wooden pallet with a sack on it.

Ratlin and I went to checking out the room while Gimil and Ord did some healing. There was a big carpet under the bed that we dragged aside to find a trapdoor leading down, and the chest seemed locked and Ratlin didn’t want to try it. In the cabinet were some food things, and there was barley in the sack. Gimil and Ord came down from the tower with a bunch of arrows that the skeletons had.

Now that the clanging was gone we sat in the room a bit and listened. Without the loud clanging it was eerie, like one of those moments when you are afraid to say anything because you might scare yourself, not to mention everyone around you. The rush of the last few minutes was a stark contrast to the silence we were experiencing.

I rummaged around in my sack for a snack and everyone glared at me, so I stopped.

After a few minutes Ratlin sighed and said, “I don’t hear anything, it seems that no one was paying attention to the bell.”

Gimil grunted and nodded, and Ord looked thoughtful and said, “I wonder if they can hear the noise through the carpet and the floor.”

I said, “Can we eat now?” Really, these men-folk! I needed sustenance after all that activity!

We put Ratlin near the trap door and we ate a bit, tightened all our armor (I changed into a different robe; the purple one Mom left in my adventure pack was a bit dirty from rummaging around the tower. The piping seemed a little too showy, too, so I put on that powder blue one that’s kind of plain, but is good sturdy cloth. I didn’t want one of the guys looking up it when I went into the trapdoor, since Ord or Ratlin would probably be down just before me. I had my powder blue panties on, so they wouldn’t be able to tell what they were looking at, and it didn’t show lines. Adventurers must be practical, too!)

I took you out, Diary, to make some notes but got a LOOK from Gimil, so I decided to put you away until we were sure we were safe.

Down we went into the trapdoor, Gimil leading, followed by Ord and Ratlin. I waited until they had checked the room below out before popping down. There was a hallway that led out of the room and to the left (I guess it was the west). Ratlin checked the lock on the door and it was open, so he got ready to open it for Gimil and Ord. He flung it open to find a laboratory sort of room with five orcs and a woman casting a spell. A magic missile hit Gimil from the spell caster and some of the orcs fired bows. Slowly but surely, Gimil and Ord fought their way into the room and I popped of some shots at the necromancer. Ratlin shot at any orc body part he could target, and before long the necromancer (so we later discovered) tried to duck into another room, but we got her before she could get away.

That was the last of the bad guys! We went through everything, and found a bunch of stuff, but the coolest was a wand, which shot magic missiles. I got that, while Ratlin found a suit of leather armor, which was magical, and we found the spell books that the necromancer had. From what we could piece together, it seemed that she was a pupil of Erich of Holdfast, and she had his books and some of her own. They didn't have a pure connection to magic such as myself, they had to study it in dusty old tomes. I am mighty in the ways of magic! Hmpf!

There was some gold, but the real treasure, I guess, was those books, which we could sell to some wizard-type. There was a diary of Erich’s and Rebecca’s. Gimil got a magic ring that deflects blows, and there was a scroll with some spells I’ll have to look at and study, phooey! Also, the tower itself was in a secret location, so it’s possible we could use it for a stronghold.

I’m writing this after we cleared out the tower and have barricaded the doors and brought the wagon into the main room. We are setting watch on the tower, but we all need some rest.

I’m sleepy. My watch is the third one, because Gimil and Ord can see in the dark, and Ratlin is blind as a bat and needs morning light (and time to cook breakfast!), whereas I’m kind of in between. I can do my magic exercises without interruption while the others sleep, too.

I like our group. I’ve never really known dwarves, and I’d heard they were really very serious and grumpy. They are. I mean, I’d like to bottle that look Gimil gives me sometimes and fire it off at an orc or something. Death by glance. Once a dwarf calls you friend, however, they will lay down their life for you. That sounds melodramatic, but I think it’s true. I’m beginning to feel that loyalty towards them.

Ratlin is sneaky, but friendly to all of us. He’s fun and funny, and a part of you doesn’t want to trust him, but you like him anyway. So far I haven’t had any reason to believe he’d do anything to harm us, so I think his “untrustworthiness” is an act he’s used to trotting out for humans.

It’s late, and my head is too heavy to continue such heavy thoughts. More tomorrow. G’night Diary!

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

Today when I did my spell exercises I noticed sort of new opening in my abjuration sequence. I played around with it a bit and found that I can now make the air around myself (and a target) stiff like armor. I tried it out on myself, then I went over to Gimil and tried it out on him. I had to convince him a bit, saying I knew powerful dwarven runes that I could use to protect him. I used my fairy magic to write, “Goblins beware!” on his chest in gnome, and on his arms I wrote, “This is my right” on his left arm, and “This is my left” on his right arm. He can’t read, but the runes are dwarvish after all. Then I cast my new spell and he was very pleased. The spell lasts a few hours, and it’s pretty handy.

Ord couldn’t read them, since he doesn’t understand gnomish, but I think he suspected something. Still, it was funny to watch Gimil raising his right and left arms during his exercises. I almost hurt myself trying not to laugh. Hee hee.

We decided to spend the day resting and cleaning. I used the remainder of my fairy magic to clean up everything I could dust-wise, and Gimil and Ord buried everything we killed. We found a little vegetable garden and Ratlin made a nice stew, and we all generally used the time well. Ord and Gimil cleaned up a lot of the ironwork and stonework, and the place got a good airing out.

We took our watches on the tower, and that worked out well, too. You can see most of the valley from this little hill.

Dear Diary,

Today we spent more time cleaning up and making lists of things we might need to call this place home. No one knows where it is, and though we are probably going to leave it now, it’s a nice place to keep in mind. We have all sorts of goblin and orc equipment to sell, and some nice things we found around here. If I get enough money from this I think I’m going to call my familiar. I like the idea of a little friend to call my own.

It’s about two day’s travel to the nearest big town where we can sell things and I can buy what I need for my familiar. We’ll set out tomorrow, the dwarves are cooking up some sort of defenses to stop people from entering, and I think Rat’s going to lock the place up from the inside.

Dear Diary,

We set off today in our wagon, our two handsome mules pulling while Ord steered and I sat in the back. Rat and Gimil took turns scouting ahead, and it was a pretty uneventful day. I spent most of my time tallying up all the stuff we had so I could talk to a merchant when we get to Farvale.

I got a chance to talk a lot with Ord, and after the usual amount of Clangeddin drivel, I got a chance to find out more what he is like. He’s really kind of nuts about war and battle. He’s made notes about goblin and orc tactics, and how to fight undead! He showed them to me, and from what I can remember, he was able to pick up a lot in just a few battles. I man, down to how goblins buckle their armor, for goodness sake!

I can kind of understand his intensity better. I mean, before, all I heard was gas and prayer from Ord, so I’d kind of been calling him the “Stinky Priest” in my head. I guess what it comes down to is this: he loves battle, and for someone like him, worshipping the god of war is the only choice. Clangeddin is to him the most direct way to be a great warrior. The detail of his notes, like how goblins buckle their armor, merely serves to make him a better warrior.

He still has a lot of gas, though. I could also do without the comments about my chest.

Dear Diary,

We got another chance to save some humans today, and this time we made the most of it.

We had made camp for lunch off the trail, and Gimil was looking off into the woods when he suddenly straightened up and readied his bow. We all hopped up, getting ready for anything. Just in case, I started putting the new armor spell on Gimil.

A few seconds later we saw three humans running like crazy from our left to right. They were about 100 feet from us, sprinting and occasionally stumbling. To our left, behind the humans we saw a band of goblins chasing them. Despite his dislike for human/s Gimil hates goblins, and so he fired off a quick shot and ran towards the goblins. Ord blessed us with the might of Clangeddin, while I looked to the tail end of the goblin group and saw a nice group of four standing together. Poof! They were asleep. Rat ran with the others while I trotted in the direction of the battle. I wasn’t going to let myself get mobbed by goblins.

Ord, Rat, and Gimil took shots at the goblins as the closed, while I shouted “Over here!” to the humans. I fired off another sleep and got two more. I would have had three but one resisted.

The humans ran towards our wagon for safety as Gimil and Ord unlimbered their melee weapons and waded in. Since I didn’t want to be a part of that, Rat and I went to take care of all the sleeping ones before they became a problem. I’d hate to have them wake up on us. Goblins are nasty. I took my staff and whacked em across the throat. WHACK! Nasty goblins!

The humans were really grateful, of course. They were all priests of Heironeous, travelling back to their temple on the outskirts of Farvale. We offered them passage with us, and they accepted. They’d seen how good we were at killing goblins!

We got more goblin armor and equipment, too, and the goblins had some 60 gold pieces and about 35 silver. Our wagon must look like a goblin morgue. I think I’ll use some bags to cover some of it up. Maybe use something to clean up the armor.

Oops! Ok, note to self: Ale is not to be used for cleaning in the presence of dwarves. My ears are still burning! Ord and Gimil have made it clear to me that ale is for drinking, water is for washing, and I’ve learned some new dwarven swear words. I’m not sure what “Mulg” means, though. I’ll have to listen more carefully next time. Maybe I’ll ask Rat – he may know.

We’re camping tonight off the road. Sometime mid-day tomorrow we should be in Farvale.

I must be changing a lot. Before, the goblin fight we had today would have had me shaking and apprehensive, but it’s starting to feel like “all in a day’s work”. Not that I’ll be spell-battling a dragon or anything, but I’m less scared and more focused on what’s right to do. Gimil told me it was smart to take out the trailing goblins in the chase because that way none of them would be seen falling asleep. That’s what I thought, too, but it was nice to be told I did a good job.

G’night, Diary

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

This morning when we woke up, those priests had been talking to each other for a while already. They were all huddled up and sort of whispering back and forth while Rattlin was making breakfast. They’d look at us occasionally, then go back to whispering.

Finally, I got a little tired of it and walked up to them.

“Hey!” I said, “can I get in on the secret?”

The oldest one drew himself up to speak, then realized that he should probably draw himself down to speak, so went over to a tree stump and sat down so he could be at eye level with me.

“Posy,” he said seriously, “ your group (my group!) is a strong and good group. You dispatched those goblins with ease, and saved us. We were on our way to Farvale to see if we could find an adventuring group to help our little abbey with a problem. Having met you, we know we need to look no further to find an able party. Will you help us?”

I looked him over a bit, and signaled for the rest of the party to come over. Soon Gimil, Ord, and Rattlin had gathered around.

“Everyone,” I said, “these good priest of Heironeous would like to hire us, but I haven’t heard their proposition yet.”

Ord looked at me with an unreadable expression. “They propositioned you?” he said with a grin. “They must be hard up.”

Rattlin chimed in, “That’s stooping kind of low for a human, if you know what I mean.”

Ha. Ha. I could have killed them both. Smart alecks. I’ll return the favor sometime.

“Very funny,” I said. “Now, priest, tell us your needs.”

“First, let me tell you a little about myself and our order. I am Jean Martin, priest of Heironeous. The Order of the Risen Star is a peaceful monastic commune whose members dwell within a small chapel upon the crest of the Hartsblood Hills. Our priests often descend into the surrounding valleys to tend to the villages there and perform last rites and burials as needed.

A recent earthquake has opened a passage to a series of uncharted caverns beneath the Order's vaults. The brothers dispatched to explore their depths have not been seen nor heard from in a week's time, so the Order must seek aid from outside its walls. Our abbot, Martine Gerrard, sent us to Farvale to seek a band of adventurers willing to search.”

He paused, looking at all of us. “I think we need look no further. Are you willing to help?”
Rattlin piped up, “What’s it worth to ya?” I kicked him in the shins.

“Hush!” I said to him, “we’ll get to that!”

Jean smiled. “I understand your friend’s point. I was an adventurer once myself. Why should you risk peril if there is no reward. While I now seek other-worldly rewards, you seek perhaps more material benefits?”

He was a smooth one, that priest.

“I have some questions first,” I said. “How are you a peaceful community while worshiping the god of honor? I’ve heard of Heironeous’ paladins before, they are quite warlike.”

“There are many facets to honor. There is honor in battle honor to oneself, honor to your community. We emphasize the more peaceful, internal aspects of honor because honor in battle can lead to glory-seeking, and that is counter to Heironeous’ will.”

“How many brothers were sent down to investigate – the ones that did not come back?” I asked.

“There were three. Brother Durham is the abbot’s second, and two acolytes. They took climbing and exploring equipment with them.”

“How far are we from the monastery?”

Jean frowned. “I’m not sure, but at least two days travel. We are now on the southern side of Farvale, and the monastery is to the north. We’d been harried by these goblins since yesterday. They’d cut us off from the route into town and we were trying to get around them to someplace safe.”

“Can we go through Farvale, then? We need to sell some equipment and purchase some things before we embark on another adventure.”

Ord interrupted, “And the reward for this is... ?”

Jean smiled, “I am sure that the abbott will offer you a generous reward. I’m not sure what form that it will take, but it may include some magical items.”

Magic! Woo! I love magical items. I wonder what the monastery will have?

We set out for Farvale and were about two hours out of town when we were again attacked!

Now, remember, Diary, that we set up our little expedition with Ord driving, myself in the back of the wagon keeping an eye behind us, and Ratlin and Gimil alternating as scouts forward. The priests were walking behind uour cart about 40 feet. We were going up a slight hill in a sort of forested area when suddenly a HUGE man charged out of the woods. Farther down the road, we saw some orcs pop out and run towards Ratlin, who was scouting out front!

The huge man was really an ogre! I was sitting in the back when I heard Ord yell “By the brass balls of Clangeddin!” I hopped off the back left end of the cart and the ogre was only about 30 feet away, charging hard! He had this enormous club in both hands and he was heading right towards Gimil, who had hopped off the left front of the wagon. I looked down the road and there was Ratlin, running for his life as two orcs chased him towards the cart. Two more were taking aim at him with javelins as he ran.

Right away I started a sleep spell, hoping that I could stop those orcs from getting to Ratlin. Ord had hopped off the front right of the wagon and had started heading towards Ratlin to help. My sleep spell went off, and I put one of the orcs with a javelin to sleep. His partner was so surprised, he forgot to throw at Ratlin!

Meanwhile, the ogre had taken a mighty swing at Gimil, and Gimil had barely gotten out of the way. The ogre was about 20 feet from me now, and I have never seen anything so scary in my life! It was three times my height, and had an ugly misshapen face with a gaping mouth that was roaring some gibberish about dwarf meat. I don’t know how Gimil could just stand there in front of it, but he did, and took a mighty swing at it, and TOOK it’s HEAD right OFF! One swing! SLICE! No more ogre! Gimil is my HERO!


Well, there was suddenly a lot of blood on our side of the cart, but I could see that the orc I had put to sleep had woken up his friend and was aiming again! I fired off another sleep spell, and got them both! HA!

Ratlin had made it to Ord, and they were fighting hand to hand with the orcs as Gimil charged up to help. The priests were hotfooting it to help us, but Ord, Gimil, and Ratlin were able to take care of the two orcs without help. Ratlin was able to get behind the one Ord was fighting with a cartwheel and tumble, and gave the orc a nasty shot in the vitals. Gimil took a couple of swings at the other orcs and killed it.

The priests helped heal Gimil, Ord and Ratlin. I went to the back of the wagon and got sick. I’m not sure if anyone saw me, but no one said anything to me about it at the time. I was so scared from seeing that ogre, I had the shakes for a while. I hid it a bit by running up the road to take care of the sleeping orcs, and by the time Gimil had reached there, my hands weren’t shaking anymore. I congratulated him on his attack on the ogre, and his face split into a wide grin.

On the way back to the cart, he told me how he had trained with the other young dwarves to fight large creatures, but that this was the first time he had to fight one for real. He was describing what he had done, and I tried to look nonchalant, but I was still seeing that ogre head topple off the body and trying not to let my hands start shaking again. I covered up again by saying to Ord, "Brass Balls of Clangeddin? Is it the knocking them together that gave him his name?" Ord laughed and everyone relaxed a bit.

The priests had helped strip the dead bodies of items, and we found a big purple amethyst in a bag on the ogre’s belt. We loaded up the cart with the equipment and continued in to Farvale.

We reached Farvale about noon, and while I arranged for stabling and rooms for us, the dwarves and Ratlin went into the inn for lunch. I grabbed a bite with them and left them to their own devices while I went to an armorer and weaponsmith the innkeeper told me about. We had so much equipment from goblins and orcs and the Ogre that I was able to get almost a thousand gold pieces in trade!

I went back to the Inn, and sure enough, Ord, Gimil and Ratlin were halfway to total inebriation, and the news of our haul had them roaring and cheering. I felt sort of bad for the other inn patrons, but the dwarves were actually buying rounds, so I suppose it was ok. Ratlin couldn’t believe his eyes, and kept sneaking drinks form the dwarves in case they stopped being so generous.

I reminded them all that we only had a day in town, and that I had to re-supply the wagon. I let them know we had rooms upstairs and left.

I was in search of something very important.

Ever since my master, Old Felster had shown me how to call a familiar, I had been saving up money to call one of my own. Feltser had a cat named Arabella that looked at me with oddly intelligent eyes. He would talk to it all the time, and I knew that the cat had some odd powers. I would hear Felster arguing with Arabella sometimes, but you could tell that they both were really attached to each other.

I was tired, I was scared, and a little lonely. I trusted my companions, but we had only been together for less than two weeks (this was the ninth day since I left home). I was getting a little tired of being the only girl in a wagon full of grunting, windy dwarves and a sharp-tongued little halfling. I wanted a dog. A girl dog.

I asked around until I had found the market and went off in search of a young girl dog for sale. I walked around for a few hours, checking each littler, talking to each seller, and not finding anything I liked. First, most of the dogs were big war dogs that I could probably ride, which is what every seller first thought. I didn’t want a mount, I wanted a companion! Then, once they understood I wanted a pet, they all sent me to this seller that sold these tiny dogs that took more time with their hair than I did! Those dogs didn’t bark, they made these annoying yippy noises that drove me up the wall. I could just see Ord and Gimil with one of these little monsters. They’d think I had lost my mind.

I finally found a little tea shop about four o’clock, and sat down for a bit of a think. I needed to get back to the inn before the others got concerned. (Little did I know that their biggest concern at the time was where the next drink was coming from. They had spent the afternoon finding a pewterer who could make them mugs with their names on it, and the rest of the day filling the mugs. Over and over again. Dwarves!)

While I was sipping my tea this little boy came and stood next to me with a lollipop in his hand and just stared at me. He looked at me for a while, until he finally asked, in a small voice, “Are you a dwarf?”

I started laughing; I couldn’t help myself. A dwarf! Golden haired, ringletted me? Dresser in purple robes? I couldn’t even pick up Gimil’s sword! I almost didn’t notice the hurt look in the boy’s eyes, I was giggling too much. He looked foolish and a little nervous, and I finally stopped laughing long enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” I said comfortingly. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I was just thinking of some dwarf friends of mine. Here, have a cookie.”

The cookie banished all doubts, as I thought it would.

“What’s your name? Mine’s Posy, and I’m a gnome.”

“I’m Art. What’s a gnome?” he asked, through a spray of cookie crumbs.

That stumped me for a bit. I had always been a gnome. How could I describe being what I’ve been all my life?

“Well, to start with, I’m about fifty eight years old. That’s probably as old as your grandpa.”

‘Grandpa! Oh no!” His eyes got wide. “He’ll be looking for me!” Art started looking around, and then looked up guiltily at a man who had been standing nearby quietly.

He smiled at me and said “No, go on Miss Posy. I think Art should hear about your race.”

“We tend to live in hills away from big folks like yourself, and we keep our homes hidden. We like magic and tricks like this!” With that I did my tricky spell and turned his lollipop blue, then green. “What is your favorite flavor?” I asked.

“Boysenberry!” he exclaimed.

Poof! I turned his lollipop into a nice deep purple and gave it boysenberry flavor.

“That’s neat!” he said.

“We are friends with dwarves, elves and humans, but we hate goblins and orcs. Be careful around us, because we like to play tricks on people. We don’t play mean tricks on nice people, but if you act to full of yourself, we’ll be sure to make fun of you.”

Art took this piece of information seriously. “I’ll be careful! You might make my lollipop taste yucky!”

I invited his grandpa to sit down and introduced myself. He smiled at me and said, “My name is Enry. You must be from Treedimple.”

Surprised, I nodded. “How did you know?”

“I used to herd sheep in a village near there when I was younger. I met a gnome there on the hills and we used to chat a lot. Friendly fellow, name of Roondar Scheppen. I was saddened to learn he had died in a goblin raid.”

“That’s my uncle! He was a soldier in the Treedimple militia,” I gasped. “You knew him?”

“You are that Posy? He used to speak of you fondly. He said you were the best of his nieces, though you couldn’t’ tell from what your mother said. I'm pleased to meet you!” He smiled.

Hearing about home and my uncle Roondar made me feel suddenly homesick. I must have shown it, for he said, “You are a ways from home. How is it that you find yourself in Farvale?”

I told him all about meeting Gimil and Ord and Ratlin, and fighting goblins and the ogre while he listened and Art looked on wide-eyed. I told him how I couldn’t find a nice dog in the market and that I had to find one soon before I had to leave, and he looked thoughtful.

“Now, I might be able to help you there. We are shepherds, not dog breeders, but I have a little dog that I’ve been trying to find a home for a while. She’s a bit rambunctious, but a friendly and loyal dog. She’s young, like yourself, but ready to travel. Come with me and I’ll show you.”

Five minutes later I met Ember. I call her Ember, because she has a bright red mark on her chest that looks like a spark.

I’m in the inn now with Ember, with a couple of sleeping dwarves and a chattering halfling. I’m going to put you away for the night, Dear Diary, and play with my new friend. Don’t worry, I’ll visit you again soon.

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

I need to start putting dates on my entries, so here it goes: Today is Moonday, Planting the 10th. It is late afternoon and we are almost at the monastery of the Order of the Risen Star. It’s been ten days since I left Treedimple. I’ve been doing the ritual of binding with Ember most of the day in the wagon, while the priests and the others do the watching.

Guess what? Ratlin learned that he has some magic in him, too! He had found a falcon familiar, and he did his ritual of binding right along with me. He named the falcon Millyeneum or something. Must be a hobbit thing. He can do this spell where he can hit anything whenever he attacks after casting the spell. It only works for one attack, but it’s pretty neat.

Ember is a smart dog! She picked up all the ritual steps really easily and when the binding was complete, I could feel her little doggy mind next to mine. After all that ritual stuff, we got off and ran around a little bit. I don’t think I’m going to argue with Ember like Felster did with Arabella.

I can see the monastery ahead. The priests have trotted forward to tell the Abbott. Ember is taking a nap next to me, and I’ll have to write more later.

Dear Diary,

It’s the evening of Planting 10th. Abbot Martin Gerrard has told us about the monks that have gone down into the crypt. His concern for them was so strong that we decided not to rest and to go straight down into the crypt. He said he’d give us 100 gold apiece and a magic item for finding out what happened to them, or finding them alive. He said the earthquake has opened up some new areas in the crypt, something that had not been explored. Ord thinks that there may be an opening to the Underdark that the earthquake may have opened. We are heading down to the crypt eight now.

Dear Diary,

I almost got Gimil killed. We’ve been so successful up until now that I’ve started to forget that what we are doing is dangerous. A moment’s inattention is enough to seriously jeopardize our entire group.

We left the crypt entrance and headed down a flight of stairs. The crypt was designed to have a flight of stairs, then a level of crypts, then a flight, then a level of crypts for four flights and four crypt levels. We had gone down the first three flights and had stepped onto the third floor of the crypts. As we started to make our way to the next set of stairs, a bunch of skeletons started coming our of some crypts that had been broken open. Ord whipped out his holy symbol and destroyed all nine with his holy power. Amazing! I guess Clangeddin has more going for him than brass balls.

When we got to the fourth level, we saw right away that the earthquake had split a crack right through the level and there was a large crevice that led down. I cast light on a stone and tossed it down the crack. We saw that about 30 feet down the crevice bottomed out into a pit, but that there was a further crevice that went off into darkness. We dropped down into the pit (Milly-eneum flew down and we made a sling for Ember.)

We dropped the light stone down the crevice and found that it went about a hundred feet or so down. We dropped a long rope down the crevice to the bottom. Here is where I made my near fatal mistake.

Gimil so likes my armor spell that he has taken to just having it on him whenever we are heading into battle. So far, we hadn’t seen anything, but Gimil decided that he’d go down first. I forgot to armor him! He went down that crevice without any protection besides his own agility and senses.

When he hit bottom, he signaled for Ratlin to come down, then we watched in horror as four figures slowly started to surround him! Ord shouted to look out but it was too late, Gimil was fighting for his life against we didn’t know what and we were all too far away to help! Ratlin jumped down the rope, paying it out rapidly to make it an almost fall, as I targeted a figure with a magic missile. I can now shoot two of them and so two missiles went streaking into one of the figures.

Gimil was fighting for his life, trying to avoid letting the figures flank him. As Ratlin came down, he was struck by the claws of one and staggered. He got back up as Ratlin tried to swing behind one. He fell and landed badly, but it got the attention of one of them as I sent another two missiles shooting into the one I hit earlier. Down he went!

Ord jumped down the rope after Ratlin. Gimil was hit again and then seemed to freeze in position. The three remaining oriented on Ratlin, who went into a spinning, tumbling frenzy to try to get away from all their attacks. I stayed up and fired two more missiles into one the Gimil had injured, and it went down.

When Ord landed he showed his holy symbol to the ghouls, for that is what they were. Two of them went cowering into the corner of the room while the last one fought Ratlin.

Ord had to keep his eyes on the ghouls he had pinned, but he sidled over to Gimil and gave him a whack to see if he could rouse him. I sent my final missiles down to the one trying to fight Ratlin, and Ratlin got a shot in on it, and took him down. I waited up at the pit until Gimil became conscious and he and Ratlin finished off the other ghouls with bolts and arrows. I sent Ember down in the sling and then followed down myself.

I apologized to Gimil right away. He looked at me and said that the fault was not mine, that he had forgotten to ask for it. Still, I vow never to forget to armor him when he needs it. Maybe even if he doesn’t.

We decided to rest down in that room. There are a lot of rocks and spiky things sticking up in the room. There is a bunch of smashed coffins that I’m going to look through with Ratlin. There is a crevice leading out of the room which we set a guard on while we look and rest

Dear Diary, (Early Morning, Godsday, Planting 11th. Tanabat, Seven Sisters Festival)

Well, we’ve rested a bit, and Ratlin told us about the Seven Sisters Festival, which is today. It seems seven lovely sisters entertained Olidammara on this day when he was in disguise as a minstrel. (Ratlin told this story, of course, with a lot of winks and bawdy comments. I think it’s just wishful thinking.) He was so pleased by these women that he offered to send them to his halls where they could play forever.

(What I remember about this festival is that there is a lot of wine drinking going on, and the girls get chased into the vineyards. I, myself, was never caught, but Bonnie Thimbleprick was, and I’ll bet she let herself get caught. More than a thimble was pricked that night, I’ll bet. Goodness! I’ve been listening to Ratlin too much! Look at my language!)

We celebrated by having a couple of mugs of ale and resting. I declined Ord’s offer to chase me into the vineyards.

We found a bunch of minor items in the smashed coffins (they must have fallen from the crypt), but we found a holy symbol of Heironeous, and it was engraved with the following: “To Brother Durham, for Faithful Service." A clue! We are at least on the right track.

We are about to head off into the crevice, but I’ve put an armor on Gimil, so he will lead the way. The crevice seems really tall, with a very high ceiling, so we’ll have to watch out for falling rocks and things. Hopefully by the next time I write we'll have found Brother Durham.
Dear Diary, (Late Afternoon, Godsday, Planting 11th. Tanabat, Seven Sisters Festival)

Well, it was a good thing we were looking up in that crevice because after we had only gone down about 20 feet or so, whoosh! Out of the sky came a bunch of stinky bird-things with long sucky noses. Eeeuw! Ord said they were called stirges.

I slept a couple of them, Rat got one with a lucky shot, but Gimil and Ord got one attached to them. I shot one off Ord with a magic missile, and then Gimil tore his off and whacked it against the crevice wall. We continued down the crevice for another hundred feet or so before opening into a really humid cavern.

The floor was soft and covered with thick, damp moss. Immense, root-like, brown-and-gray tendrils of vegetation dangled down from the ceiling overhead, lightly brushing the tops of the varied fungi in the circular chamber. It was really steamy and hot, and right away Gimil spotted some black robes in the middle of the patch of fungi.

We started to go toward it when suddenly there was this piercing shrieking noise, and we saw that there were these big mushrooms with holes in the top making noise. It was awful! Then these tentacles started coming out from the pile and attacked Gimil!

The shrieking mushrooms and tentacles weren’t’ moving fast, so I took some shots with my wand and the others peppered the mushrooms with crossbow bolts. One by one, we brought each one down.

Inside the pile of fungus and moss we found bad news: two of the acolytes lay there dead. They had their equipment, and that was all. What had happened to Brother Durham?

There were two other exits to the room, one on the south and one on the east, but the east one looked caved in. Gimil and Ord poked around a bit, but it looked really closed up.

We left the bodies there for the time being, and took the south exit. Just as we were crossing the threshold of the tunnel, Gimil stooped down to look at the ground.

“Orc prints!” he exclaimed. He looked carefully at the tracks, but was only able to determine that there had been a small band of Orcs that came from that eastern exit and had gone south. We decided to be very careful, since those stupid mushrooms had probably warned the Orcs that we were coming. Gimil and Ratlin went in front, moving quietly. Gimil’s darkvision would make the difference with surprise, we hoped.

After a minute or so, Gimil came back and said that he’d seen a room, about eighty feet wide, where there were at least four Orcs that he could see. He scratched out the room in the dirt and indicated where there were Orcs hiding behind some stalagmites. (I think that’s what they were. I can never remember which are the sticky-uppy ones and the hangy-downy ones.) Gimil said he thought there were more than four in the cave, because there were more than four sets of prints.

We decided that since Gimil and Ord could see in the dark, they would move in first, as quietly as they could, and get set up to attack. Ratlin and I would toss in light stones, and that would be the signal to attack. Ord would first bless us, and I’d do a mage armor on Gimil and myself. Ratlin and I trotted back to the previous room to make the light stones so they wouldn’t light up the tunnel.

It worked pretty well! Gimil and Ord slipped in just fine, and when the light stones came shooting out of the tunnel the Orcs were a bit surprised. We counted seven Orcs. Four were tucked back behind a few stalagmites, and Ord and Gimil were fighting some to the right as I came in. I popped a sleep off to the stalagmites-hidden ones and got two! Ratlin took a shot at on that Ord and Gimil were fighting and got him good, and he dropped.

The two remaining in the stalagmites threw javelins at Ratlin and I and charged. I shot two missiles into one and dropped it as Ratlin drew his rapier and engaged the other. Ord and Gimil were fighting the other two and Gimil’s was a highly trained warrior, feinting and ducking and making Gimil’s life difficult.
Gimil finally got a shot in which dropped his right as Ord and Ratlin dropped theirs. A quick fight, and we were relatively unwounded. Gimil and Ord had each taken a hit, and Ratlin had a little cut from when he dodged a huge axe swing.

In the room, besides a bunch of sticky-uppy things and dead Orcs, was a boulder that looked like it had been rolled across a tunnel opening. Ord healed Gimil and Ratlin, and we went to investigate.

The boulder was pretty big, but Ord and gimil thought they could move it. They tugged and pushed, and finally got it to roll out of the way. Behind it was a small tunnel leadin to the right.

With lightstones ready, we stepped into the tunnel. It wound around to a cave where we were faced with a horrible sight!

Brother Durham was spread-eagled on a post, where it looked like he had bled to death from torture. There were cuts and bruises and strips of skin hanging off him. I had to run back to the other room to throw up. It smelled like a slaughterhouse.

Gimil and Ord cut him down and covered him up. We found the rest of his equipment in there, except for his armor which looked like the Orc warrior had worn. We packed it all up, made a travois, and begin the trek back.

We left the destroyed crypt feeling like we’d missed something. We went to the Abbott and recounted everything we’d seen. He also felt that the Orcs’ presence was unusual, but thought that the cave-in may have re-sealed their entrance into the area. We promised to explore the whole area tomorrow.

I felt bad for the Abbott after presenting him with the body of Brother Durham. He seemed to age after we told him how we found the body, and Brother Durham and the Abbot must have been good friends. The Abbott look tired, but said he would call for a feast in our honor, and I almost felt like telling him we didn’t want a feast. The look on Ord and Ratlin’s face, though told me they sure needed one, and a chance to relax before we went down again. I’m going to attend the party, but I’m pretty tired, and I hope to call it a night early. Besides, writing this entry has made my hands cramp up something awful, since so much happened today!

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary,

I’ve just left the feast, where the dwarves and the monks are seeing who can drink the most. I sure feel sorry for those priests tomorrow morning. They have no idea what they are up against.

Dear Diary,

It looks to me like Ord and Gimil had to work hard to win last night. While they aren’t strictly complaining, they are moving a little slowly, and have been shielding their eyes all day.

We went through the entire crypt complex, searching everywhere, and found no new exits. The cave-in looked deep at first glance, and Order and Gimil, after consulting each other and saying words like “borehole” and “roof sag”, declared that the cave-in extended for at least thirty feet, and so was unlikely to be a site for new incursions from the Underdark.

We went back up and told the Abbot, who thanked us and gave us these little gem necklaces. He said they were “undiminished stars” and that they would protect us from death magic.

He also said that there were some monks that were heading out to Longspear, which is several weeks away. He said he’d pay us to escort them there. After a little talking, we agreed to do it. We told the Abbott that we needed to buy supplies in Farvale, and he said that we could stay the night tonight and he’d have the priests meet us in Farvale the day after tomorrow to travel. That ought to give us enough time to provision and sell.

Dear Diary, (Waterday, Planting 12)

Well, our trip to Longspear looks like it may be a *little* more interesting than we thought. It seems that those priests are escorting one of their dead brethren to Longspear, so we’ll have a corpse in the wagon with us for almost two weeks! Yuck! I’m not going to spend a lot of time sitting on the wagon this trip! The priests assured us that the body won’t be rotting, but I’m sure I don’t want to be testing their promise.

Their deceased companion was part of a group that got waylaid on a pilgrimage. Some of the group pressed on to contiue the pilgrimage, while these three priests stayed back to return their slain companion’s remains. The stay-behinds are the Brothers Bole and Ferad. The dead guy is Valon. They are all priests of Heironeous, god of valor, like the Order of the Risen Star here at the monastery.

Ember doesn’t seem to have a problem with the body being on the wagon. She sniffed around it a bit, but didn’t raise her hackles at all and after a few more sniffs, seemed uninterested. Bole said they prayed over the body and Heironeous granted the body a peaceful sleep, which maybe accounts for Ember’s nonchalance. Still, yuck!

We set out for Farvale early in the morning and arrived late this afternoon. The trip was uneventful, so I spent most of the time doing an inventory, stepping around the casket and counting the things we had gained from the crypt.

Our inventory:

Gold pieces total: 669 WOW!
Silver pieces total: 278
Seven suits of orc scale mail
Seven orc great axes
Seven javelins
Masterwork club
Potion of invisibility
Two potions of Cure medium wounds
One suit chainmail, magical
One mace, magical
Divine scroll with Dispel Magic and Prayer

Quite a haul! I was able to sell the weapons and armor for 240 gold, and sell the armor and mace for - get this - almost 3,000 gold! After splitting everything four ways, we each had over 1,000 gold each. We found an inn in town here that sells dwarven ale, so I have plenty of time to write while Ratt, Ord, and Gimil try them all. I have had a nice hot bath, and have a small mug up here in our room, and I’m going to go to sleep soon.

This is likely to be a long boring trip. I’m not looking forward to spending two weeks with a bunch of stiff priests (one who is really a stiff) and ale-swilling dwarves. I hope something interesting will happen!

Dear Diary (the events of Earthday, Planting 13)

Shopping day! This morning we all went our separate ways to buy whatever we wanted. Of course, the guys made me also do the provisioning for the trip, since I wasn’t going to buy anything “important”. Hmph! They are all weapon and armor crazy.

I went and bought a few nice robes and tunics, including a pretty violet tunic with gold trim. I had to go buy some shoes to match, and found a darling pair made by a gnome cobbler named Fitzrumple. I wound up buying three pairs of shoes at his shop! They were really comfortable, and a bargain.

Halfway through the day Gimil and Ord found me and they were a bit winded. It seems they had found a bowyer with these incredible bows, well made and with a pull to them that, they boasted, only a dwarf could accomplish. I nodded politely, and said, “That's nice…”

Gimil and Ord looked at each other, then looked at me.

Ord said, “ You ask her.”

Gimil gave Ord a look and said, “I thought you were going to ask her.”

I rolled my eyes and said, interrupting, “Do you think these shoes match my eyes?”

By their stammered answers, both praising my eyes and the shoes, I could tell that they really wanted something. It was up to me to ask, though, because they couldn’t decide who was going to face my wrath, I guess. *snicker*

“So, how was your shopping?” I asked.

“Uh, well, that’s the thing, Posy.” Ord said. “These bows are kind of expensive.”

“And..?” I prompted.

“Well, we have already bought some excellent weapons, see?” With this Ord and Gimil both showed me Gimils’ new greatsword and Ord’s new battleaxe. I oohed and aahed over them. They looked nice, but what did I know?

“That’ll sure slice up some ogres, eh, Gimil?” “That looks like just the thing for a priest of Clangeddin, Ord!”

“Posy, can we borrow some money?”

At last! I thought I’d have to say something actually knowledgeable about their weapons. “So that’s it? You want to borrow money for the bows”

They both nodded.

“Well, let’s go see this bowyer, then,” I said. “Come on!”

I made the bowyer tell me why his bows were so special, and got him to let me try to pull one. It was impossible. I asked Gimil and Ord to pull their bows, and, by golly, they had to strain to pull them back. The bowyer had an archery target (Gimil, Ord, and the bowyer called them butts.)

All this time I knew I was going to help them get the bows, but it was fun to watch them squirm a bit. They kept looking embarrassed when the bowyer had to explain something to me that was obvious to any bow user, but I learned a lot. About bows, and about men.

“Ok then, when can we pick them up?” I said. “Can we take them now?”
After a few minutes, when Ord and Gimil’s jaws had found their way back up to their faces, they were the proud owners of what were admittedly some pretty incredible bows. Ord kept stroking his in it’s leather case. You’d think he was an elf!

When we got back to the Inn, Rattlin was in the room looking satisfied. He showed us a small set of tools that he had picked up which he said would help him with those pesky locks. Ord and Gimil showed him their bows, and I think Rattlin really liked them. I wanted to show them my new clothes, but they were too engrossed in the bows, saying things like “nocking point” and “80-pound draw”.

I went down to the innkeeper and he said he’d had everything I asked for loaded on to the wagon. We were provisioned for three weeks, and the two casks of ale were also on board. I thanked him and paid him, and asked if he could have a dinner brought up to the room, with a few pitchers of all and one of wine.

We celebrated our good fortune for the rest of the night. I apologize, Dear Diary, because I went to bed without saying good night, but I was too tired and had had too much wine. Today is Planting 14, and those were the events from yesterday.

We left this morning early, after the priests had come to our rooms, and we set out with Ratt and Gimil alternating in front, Rattlin’s falcon flying overhead, and myself sitting on one of the casks writing while Ord is driving. I need to stretch my legs a bit, so I’ll get back to you later, Diary.

Dear Diary (Freeday, Planting 14)

I’ve had a lot of time to write, but really didn’t feel like worrying about the bumps and jostling that happen on the wagon today. The road out of Farvale was pretty rough, passing through the mountains.

It’s been a peaceful day. Ember and I played fetch, and Bole turned out to have a lute which he played every so often. It reminded me of Brewfest celebrations, where the whole village of Treedimple would decorate the market square with autumn leaves and symbols. There’d be games, minstrels playing, and plays, and Felster would put on his Grand Illusion show.

I always wondered why Felster wound up in Treedimple. Why would a human wizard be living in a town full of gnomes? I know he loved illusions, but he must have felt out of place all the time. The Rollicking Rover Inn had to put him out on the porch, since he didn’t fit into the building, but he never went to the Pufflesnuffer, the Inn that all the big people travelers used.

My family knew of him and thought him a bit loony - a human sitting on the porch of a gnomish inn in a gnomish village, smoking his pipe and chatting with the locals. They thought great-great-grandma Bonicka was a bit loony, too, for falling in love with a pixie or whatever, and I always liked stories about her. When my talent began to manifest itself, they closed the doors and had a long argument, and then my mother (Bonicka’s great granddaughter) marched me off to see Felster, who began my instruction.

Felster, Glittergold bless his heart, did his best with me. I remember having a lot of fun at his expense, but he never took anything personally. In that way, he was very gnomish.

I miss Felster. He was pretty strict, but I think he showed me that my gift was just that, a gift. He never acted as if *I* was strange for being able to do things other gnomes couldn’t. He would get upset with I used it poorly, or used it for the wrong reasons, but that I could do it was never cause for comment. I think it is because of him I can still use my magic while orcs and goblins are charging and dwarves are swinging huge weapons about.

Townspeople teased me at first, which is how I got the name Feytickle. They didn’t tease me too much after I got better at it though! I made sure that anyone who was cruel found something unusual written on his or her forehead, or his or her ale a bit too spicy.

My father’s family and various other relatives muttered darkly whenever I did things beyond normal gnomish tricks at family gatherings, but my father never acted like there was anything wrong, and my mother was always proud of me. I miss my family, too. The only thing I have from home is you, Diary, so I can hold you and tell you my memories and you will remember our home, too.

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary (Starday, Planting 15)

We’re heading down from the hills around Farvale now, and you can see the entire valley of the Yeomanry laid out below us. There are trees and hills still in the way most of the time, but every once and a while we’ll come around a bend and suddenly there will be a beautiful scenic view.

Ord and Gimil spend their time up front speaking in Dwarvish. Ord tells Gimil all these tales of famous dwarf warriors and craftsmen, then Gimil will tell his version, and they’ll compare them. I guess Gimil’s clan was killed, and he’s trying to learn all the things that he should have known from his elders. I can’t imagine having Treedimple wiped out, that would be horrible. I was extra nice to Gimil today.

When Rattlin comes back from his turn up front, I’m going to ask him about his family.

Dear Diary,

Well, Rattlin says he didn’t know his father very well, because he was always away. Rattlin is from Verbobonc, and how he got here is quite a story, especially for someone as young as he is.

It appears that Rattlin grew up mostly with his mother and the small community of halflings in Verbobonc. His father was an adventurer, and they were fairly well off. They had a nice little house and he grew up just like all the other neighborhood kids, just with infrequent visits from his dad.

While he was growing up, he’d roam the city market watching people, buying sweets, and the like, until one day he spotted a dwarf working a gaming table at a town fair. The dwarf was doing a three-card monte table, which I guess is some sort of card game. (I wasn’t about to let Ratt know I had NO IDEA what he was talking about.) The dwarf was steadily taking money from people, losing a little, winning a lot.

Ratt started watching carefully and saw the dwarf palming a card, so that the mark (I guess that’s the guy playing) would pick the wrong card every single time. Ratt saw this dwarf do it one handed, left-handed, right-handed, you name it. Finally, Ratt decided to go talk to him.

“Hey mister, can you teach me how to do that?” Ratt asked.

“Go away, kid doesn’t your momma know where you are?” said the dwarf.

“Nope.” Ratt looked at the dwarf a second. “It’s inside your left sleeve.”

“Get lost!”

“I can say it louder if you’d like.” Rattlin grinned. “I can tell you where you hid the red card each time for each of the last players. The scruffy human you cheated – that one you hid the card in your right sleeve. The one before that went into the drawer in your table.”

The dwarf looked like the blood from his head would explode and cover the market in red.

Ratt looked nonchalant. “It would be easier for you to have someone standing here anyway, making people think they could win, wouldn’t it?”

“I could use a shill, and yer a likely one.” The dwarf looked craftily at Rattlin. “Yer not getting a cut, nor will you set up somewheres else?”

“Nope, but you’ll teach me everything. No cut, no competition, I just want to know.”

This explained something about Rattlin that always had me wondering. For a halfling of his talents, he doesn’t have a real larcenous streak. He grew up with enough money, so he does it for the fun of it, I guess.

That old dwarf taught him a lot of stuff. Rattlin showed me some of the tricks he could do, and I could do em myself, but he didn’t have to use magic! He was pretty good at it.

Rattlin does this for a couple of years and then he goofs up. I mean, here is this rather streetwise kid - knows his way around, knows people, has a good head on his shoulders…

So he gets drunk and wakes up on a ship heading out to the Azure Sea! He wound up in Longspear, and that’s pretty much how he made it to the Yeomanry.

My asking him these questions has him pretty excited, so he’s telling everyone all this stuff now. We’ve camped for the night and are listening to Ratt’s stories and laughing. I’m going to bed soon, so I’m going to put you away for the night, Dear Diary.

Dear Diary (Sunday, Planting 16)

Bole and Ferdal say that we will reach Loftwick in about five days. By my calculations, that will be about the time the ale runs out. Ord, Gimil, and Ratlin have been sampling the ale while we walk, eat, and when we are asleep. We stop more often for visits to the bushes than an army of lentil-bladdered halflings!

We continue down the hills out of Farvale. We should reach the valley and skirt the mountains to the north until we reach Loftwick. It’s the capital of the Yeomanry, Ratt says.

Dear Diary (Moonday, Planting 17)

A bit of a spooky day. It started out with a light drizzle, but that tapered off and it wound up being a gray sort of day, overcast with a sort of heavy feeling in the air. The drizzle started up on and off later. We’ve been sort of hugging the highlands because Loftwick isn’t in the valley, it’s more along the mountains and we didn’t want to wind up having to climb up again.

The occasionally gray exposed rocks of the mountains added to the over-all feeling of gray. Even hills in the distance, though I knew from the day before they were covered in green grasses, seemed that same, dull color.

I wore my purple robe with the pink trim because I wanted to brighten things up. I put a bright scarf on Ember too, and so we were like lamps in a dungeon!

Not that it mattered, really. The dwarves were grumpy and Rattlin kept complaining about how wet his feet were. This went on for most of the day, until we entered this small rocky pass.

There were gray rock faces to either side, about 60 feet apart and assorted gray rocks tumbled onto the road. We were picking our way past them, with Rattlin and Gimil about 30 feet ahead, when suddenly two of the rocks stood up and attacked Gimil and Ratt!

Ord, the quick thinker and tactician, shouted “Gargoyles! We need magic weapons!” I didn’t know that, but it didn’t matter. My magic does just fine.

Gimil and Ratt retreated while Ord made his axe magical and the priests blessed our group. I ran around from the back of the wagon and popped Ratt’s foe with a couple of missiles (I love that I shoot two now! ZIPZIP!!)

The gargoyles followed Ratt and Gimil and tore them up a bit. Gimil needed my mage armor!

Bole and Ferdal enchanted Rattlin and Gimil’s weapons while Ord charged down to help Ratt.

The gargoyles were ripping into Gimil pretty hard. I stepped up and armored him up to help. Gimil shouted his thanks and began swinging his new sword around with vigor, whacking the gargoyle a hard blow that shattered its skin!

Rattlin tried to flank one of the gargoyles, but it appeared that his blows weren’t having the effect he sought. Either way, they were whacking off chips of stone from them.

The priests waited near the warriors ready to heal any if they got too injured. I popped off more missiles into Gimil’s.

Glittergold was with us, because our blows were telling. Rattlin and Ord’s was the first to try to fly away, but a few well-placed missiles sent him tumbling to the ground. Gimil’s looked about to take off when he struck it an immense blow, severing it’s arm. It, too went down.

Gimil, Rattlin, and Ord had various gouges and claw marks. Ord and the priest tended to the wounded while I looked at the gargoyles.

“Hey!” I said. “These gargoyles skins aren’t very wet.”

Gimil frowned thoughtfully. He peered into the hills searching for something. He grunted and pointed up to a flat area I could barely see.

“Look there! An old keep!”

We all strained to look, and eventually we spotted it. We checked around with Ratt’s falcon, and there was an old road leading up to it that intersected with ours. After a little discussion, we decided to see if there was a dry place up there to rest for the night, since it looked no more than a couple of hours away.

The road wasn’t in bad shape, really, despite being a little overgrown. There were a few places that Ord and Gimil had to help push the cart up over a few bumps, but all in all, I generally could sit in the back and look down at the road and relax.

The keep was nothing more than a few walls, really. There was a part of a roof still attached to a corner of the keep, so we parked the wagon nearby and went to search the keep for any signs of habitation.

And a good thing, too! We first found a kind of “nest” of crumbled rock where the gargoyles stashed some stuff (a magic sword (!) and a purse with 200 gold), and then at the other end of the compound, we found a hole descending into darkness. Rattlin was all for exploring it, but when both the dwarves and I shook our heads he said we should at least post a guard. While we were walking away from it, though, three ghouls came charging out to attack! I screamed, and everyone spun around.

In an eyeblink the three clerics had used their power to corner them against a corner wall where the dwarves used axes and swords to finish them off. Yuck!

After that we did go and explore that hole, but found nothing much except some scattered remains of ghoul meals – i.e. human parts. It was foul, and saddened us.

I don’t remember hearing about rotted body parts in any adventure that Todo the Storyteller told.

I’m starting to wonder why I’m adventuring at all. I’ll talk to you more about it later, Dear Diary, because I’m tired and a little damp and cold. Since the keep has good shelter, we’re going to make a big warm fire and have a feast. Well, I’ll have a feast and everyone else will have a drinking contest. Bole will play his lute and we’ll sing songs. Treedimple seems very far away.

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary (Godsday, Planting 18)

Well, today dawned a bit brighter and the drizzle has stopped, so my mood is a little better. We packed up and went down the hill back to the main road. I’m sitting on the back of the wagon, trying to write despite the bumps.

Bole is showing me some fingerings on his lute. It’s a little big for me, but I’m go to work at it a bit, because it’s fun! Last night I did illusions and tricks that helped his songs along, doing little scenes and images of characters and monsters in the story. I’ve never seen a dragon, but Ord said mine was very realistic. At least, after he was done wiping the beer off the front of his tunic and cursing. There are some dwarf words I don’t really know yet, I wonder if Rattlin knows them?

Ember looks at me strangely when I’m playing the lute. Her head cocks over to the side like she’s not really sure what do think of the sound. It’s interrupting my practice, but I don’t mind; it makes me laugh.

Made camp tonight in an open spot, so no big fire. Gimil’s on first watch, as usual, so I’m going to bed. Tonight is Luna’s new moon, so it won’t be very light out at all. Mine is the third watch, when it starts to turn light. G’night!

Dear Diary (Waterday, Planting 19)

The dwarves are into the second barrel of ale - things are getting desperate. We have about 2 days to go until we reach Loft wick, I hope they can hold out. I might fill the old barrel with water and make it taste like ale, hmm…

Another day of travel, with nothing but scenery and dropping acorns on Ratt’s head to break up the day. I think he suspects me, but they were about to fall anyway. Really. Ember is starting to get into the spirit of it so she wound distract him and then, bop! Some were going to be a little off target, but I made sure that pretty much every acorn that dropped within a 30 foot radius hit him. Bop!

I learned a lute tune, too! I know all the notes to “Oghma’s Ballad”! I just haven’t been able to put them in the right order yet. Bole says I’m doing well and just need more practice.

Dear Diary (Earthday, Planting 20)

*plink* *plink* *plink* Plinkin’ Posy. My fingers are sore from practicing, so I’m taking a break. Bole has been a bit severe with me, since I’ve been playing around and not practicing the way he taught me. He says if I do as he says, I’ll learn to play the right way. That means that if I learn to play like Bole, I’ll put a constipated expression on my face and act as if playing the lute is like moving my bowels. Poo on that! (pun!) I want to have fun! (rhyme!)

I tried out the water/beer thing and it worked. I’m not telling em that I served them water for lunch, but it may make a difference later on…

Ember’s asleep, having a little doggy dream. *wurf* *snurfle* *wurf* I wonder if she’s chasing or being chased?

We’re camping near a little lake at the end of a stream. It’s a little marshy around here, even though we are still in the hills.

Dear Diary, (Freeday, Planting 21)

Ord woke everyone up in the middle of the night. Ember was growling in the direction of the lake, and her hackles were up. I woke everyone else, so we were fairly prepared when a horrible smell washed over us. It smelled like all the bad experiments old Fizzletop Knotbash threw out from the back of his alchemy room. The dwarves coughed a few times, but I don’t think they were too bothered by it. The priests were gagging and coughing. Rattlin’s eyes were watering a bit, like mine, but we were still able to see eight reptilian figures rush us and throw these big javelins at us! Amazingly, they all missed!

The figures were a sort of burly humanoid and had ridged crests on their heads. They had huge mouths with pointed teeth. Some had crude weapons, and some had no weapons and were charging with fang and claw.

I had put armor on Gimil on his watch, and it was still working. I was sort of hiding under the wagon because I didn’t have any armor on and didn’t want to get spotted. I picked a likely group of the reptiles in the back and hit them with slumber. Ord limbered up his axe and charged with Gimil right behind. Bole blessed us while Rattlin shot an arrow.

Two troglodytes (for that was what they were, I found out later) ran to Gimil and Ord surroundign them and flanking them both. One trog ran towards Rattlin, who drew his short sword and engaged it. I tired to put it to sleep, but Rattlin’s resisted, darn it.

Rattlin stabbed his with the point, and I shot two missiles into it for good measure. ZIP ZIP!

I looked over to Gimil and Ord and saw that the trogs were ripping into them. Flanked on both sides, fighting back to back, Gimil and Ord were fighting a desperate battle, and the trogs kept hitting them with claws and their crude, saw-toothed swords.

They were all bunched together so I couldn’t separate them out for a good sleep spell. Ord got a good shot in on one, but Gimil was have a hard time hitting either of the ones he was fighting.

Then I remembered something Felster told me about the sleep spell: it affects the weakest foes first. I knew Gimil and Ord were stronger, so I threw the sleep spell right into the center of the melee! Fwooooosh!

I knocked out three.

The three dropped like they were at a meeting of the Grand Gnomish Engineers and Alchemists for the Renewal of Valuable Gnomish Resources. Dreamland.

This turned the tide of the battle. Rattlin was able to finish his, while Ord and Gimil took out the one that remained standing. Meanwhile, I ran around and finished the ones that I’d put to sleep. Yuck! Better them than me, though. I’ve become quite the little bloodthirsty gnome.

Rattlin rifled through all their packs and I checked their belongings for magical auras, but there was nothing to find except some gold – 140 gold total.

We finished our watches, apprehensive that more were going to be coming back.

We left early and made it to Loftwick this afternoon. I’m writing this after a nice hot bath while the dwarves and Rattlin clean themselves up. We’re going to see if we can get a magic weapon in trade for that sword we found with the gargoyles, something that Rattlin Ord, or Gimil can use. We need a magic weapon to fight those things that need magic to hit them! I’ll fill you in on our success later tonight.

Dear Diary,

What a fun night!

We decided to see if we could find some adventurer’s to trade our sword for something more useful. Gimil and Ord thought the best way to do that would be to scour the inns and taverns (go figure) for adventuring groups, and talk to them to see fi they had something for trade.

So that’s what we did! We went to almost every tavern in Loftwick. We’d look for a group that looked like us, and watch for a while to see which of the group was the leader. Then I’d go up to them and start chatting about adventuring.

Now, a lot of folks were a little surprised at first, because I look young, but after a bit we were getting along just fine. Then I’d make my pitch.

“As you adventure, you tend to find items that no one in the group can use, but that you don’t want to sell to some merchant. Some other adventurer will have to buy it from the merchant at the merchant’s price, and we all lose. We have a sword we are looking to trade for another weapon or something equivalent. Do you have anything?”

Then we’d show and tell. We had some folks try to fool us with non-magical stuff, so we walked out on them. “It was just a joke!” didn’t cut it with me. Phooey.

We had some folks offer items which we didn’t need or weren’t a fair trade. It was nice to have Ord and Gimil there, because if you think one dwarf glowering at you is bad, two is much worse.

Late in the evening, though, we met this group that was really fun and we just hung out with them.

We came into a tavern named the Laughing Griffon. It was full of people, mostly caravan guard-types, who were in town between trips. A lot of humans, but there was the occasional group of non-humans. The only open booth was near a group with an elf, a gnome (yay!), a dwarf, and a half elf.

We sat down next to them and ordered (what else?) two pitchers of ale. One of these days I’m going to have to introduce the dwarves to some other liquids.

We were sitting there just sort of looking over everything and relaxing. The gnome, who’s name was Fimble, came over and introduced himself to me. We were chatting about this and that, like what it’s like to have dwarves as friends and where we were from, when the elf from the group came over and introduced himself to us, too.

Eralild was a bard, and a fine one, too. He had a lute and I annoyed him into letting me play it.

I realized how wonderful the lute was immediately after I touched it. I almost gave it back to him, but I’d already put myself in an awkward position, so I told him I only knew one song, but I knew all the notes and I could get them in the right order and everything! I think he had a hard time not laughing, but he was kind and asked me to play it.

Because I was in the booth I had to get a chair from another table, but the dwarf of that group had come over (Dworeth was his name) and he got one that had no occupant. I checked the tuning, which was perfect, and started playing “Oghma’s ballad”.

I played it perfectly! I was a little surprised when the elf started to sing, but he was encouraging so I just kept at it, getting every note in order and even in the right rhythm, until I finished it. There was a little applause from the tables around us, and Eralild was complimentary. He was very nice. I gave him his lute right back because I didn’t want to drop it or anything.

The half elf of the group, Taewyr, came over and he and Dworeth pulled a table up to the booth so we were all sitting around and chatting. Eralild and Fimble did a show with illusions and singing and stories that was really fun!

We had the best time! Fimble kept trying to chat me up, but Rattlin, Ord and Gimil kept interrupting him (I think it was on purpose). Eventually Fimble got too drunk to care anyway and giggled while I turned his drink different colors and flavors. The dwarves were arguing with Eralild about whether dwarven drinking songs counted as “music” and Eralild was really funny about putting it down. “I guess you can set bodily effluents to a melody, but why would you want to?” had me rolling.

It’s funny, after all that work trying to find a magic item for trade, they wound up having a battleaxe that Ord could use, and we traded them our sword. As simple as that!

Well, it’s late, the dwarves are snoring and Rattlin is counting his change (he’s convinced that Fimble was more than just an illusionist), so I’m going to bed! G’night, Diary!

 

[Oghma]

Dear Diary, (Starday, Planting 22)

Ah-choo! I’ve got a cold. I think that rainy day when we stayed at the keep gave me the sniffles. Ord has some sort of herb stuff he says will help, but all it seems to do is make my head feel stuffier.

I sat next to Ord on the wagon for most of the day, wrapped in a blanket. He talked a lot, because I think he felt sorry for me. Normally it’s the other way around, me chattering away and Ord grunting a couple of times. I just sniffled instead of grunted.

Ord is from this dwarf enclave in the mountains to the very southwest of the Yeomanry, somewhere in the Crystalmists. He said it was a really old community that has been trading with humans for years.

He kind of went on about that, that the enclave was really set in it’s ways and even timid. Yeah, timid dwarves! He became a priest of Clangeddin, and then realized that none of the priests in his temple had fought a war in years. He called them a couple of choice names that I’ll have to try to remember.

Ord decided to leave to actually put the word of Clangeddin out, and to better serve him. He thinks that battle is the place of worship for all Dwarves, and he’s glad he’s with a group that has no fear of battle.

I thought about that a little bit. I never saw myself as having no fear of battle, but here I am, tossing magic around, helping my friends fight all sorts of weird things. I’d like to see Bonnie Thimbleprick try to sass me now! Silly tailor’s daughter! Wait, I’m a cobbler’s daughter. Hmmm.

My magic is getting stronger, too. It looks like you can’t stay home and learn much about magic except maybe book stuff. Felster said that the fey power that I have in my blood probably requires strong acts of will to activate it. I guess being in a battle sharpens my will, making it easier to use the magic. I need to remember to ask more questions about great-great-grandma Bonicka when I get home. If I get home.

We camped about a day’s travel outside of Loftwick. There are some small farming communities in the area, but we just found a grove we could camp in and stayed there. I slept under the wagon.

Dear Diary, (Sunday, Planting 23)

Today my cold was a little better, but those herbs Ord gave me! Yuck! Give me gnome concoctions any day over this bitter dwarven medicine. No wonder they have so much hair on their chins, this stuff would curl the hair on an egg! No hair on an egg? That’s my POINT!

Once I was able to keep it down, though, it worked well, and my head was much clearer than yesterday.

Not much happened today, we waved to a few farmers working in the fields as we gradually headed towards less settled areas. Ember had fun chasing my dancing lights though, trying to bite them. It was pretty fun once she had bitten a couple and knew they wouldn’t hurt her.

Bole showed me some “chords” today. “Chords” are when you play a bunch of notes at the same time, I think.

It’s less damp under the wagon, I think I’ll sleep there again.

Dear Diary, (Moonday, Planting 24)

Lunchtime. Made my beef jerky taste like chicken soup. I think it helped.

Not as sniffly today, so I was able to avoid Ord’s concoctions. I sat in the back, watching where we had gone. Nice farmers farming their cozy holdings. We’re about 10 days from Longspear, and two days out of Loftwick. I think I’m going to see what colors I can change Ember to make her pretty. (Not that she’s not pretty already, I’m just bored, and she’s black and white. For now!)

I should have known something would happen if I got bored! It seems that adventuring is hours of boredom followed by a few seconds of sheer terror.

Gimil was in front, Rattlin having taken his turn as our forward scout and switched with Gimil. Rattlin was actually driving the wagon, because Ord wanted to walk a while to stretch his legs.

Suddenly, this HUGE BUG rears up out of the ground and bites Gimil and grabs him! Gimil almost dropped his sword, the horses started acting up, and Ord raced forward with an oath.

This bug was about ten feet tall with a bunch sharp-clawed legs. It had huge pincers that were big enough to easily grab Gimil by the waist.

I don’t think it thought there was more than Gimil, because he was pretty far ahead of the wagon. It looked like it wanted to drag Gimil back down the hole it came from!

Well, Gimil wasn’t having any of that! With a roar, he tore his way out of the pincers! Bole cast a bless on us, and Rattlin threw the reins to a startled Ferdal, saying “Deal with it!” and hopping off, drawing out his new short sword.

Meanwhile, I popped off a couple of missiles and got one of our healing portions ready as I ran up to help.

Gimil drew his sword and swung at the beast, but missed off it’s hard armor-like skin. It took another bite out of Gimil, but Gimil was able to avoid letting it grab him. Ord kept running up to it, as did Rattlin.

I shot more missiles and kept running. One of these days I’ll have other things to do which are useful in battle, but it’s clear that in this battle, I needed to hurt it, to distract it. I wasn’t about to accidentally put Gimil to sleep!

Ord reached it and took a swing at it with his axe, chipping it a bit. Rattlin began to work his way around behind the thing, and I realized that Gimil was armorless!

I don’t know what I was thinking, shooting off the missiles, but I cast my armor spell and ran to touch Gimil. The armor surrounded him and deflected another attack from the bug. Then it looked at me.

Oops. Gimil had armor, I didn’t. I’m sure that at this point the was looking at gnome as a bit tastier and not quite as hard to swallow as a dwarf. Ord had taken another swing at it and there was quite a thunk as his axe cracked it’s skin.

It reared back to take a lunge at me, when suddenly a small sword point stuck out through it’s eyes and it toppled over, dead.

“I killed it, I killed it!” Ratt was dancing up and down, cheering and waving his sword about. Ord and Gimil just looked at each other, panting. Ord had hit with a huge blow, my missiles and charred holes into it, and Rattlin had hit it just as it was about to go down. The dwarves looked furious, and Rattlin saw that and slowed down his victory dance.

“What?” Rattlin said. “I killed it, I did! I hit it and it died!”

Gimil looked at Ord and his lips twitched a bit. “You know, these bugs usually have lairs. The tunnels they make are kind of small, though.”

Ord nodded with mock gravity. “Sure enough, they do. We dwarves could never fit down there, though. It requires someone really small…”

Ratt looked at Ord and Gimil, back and forth, trying to see if they were serious. “Guys?”

Ord and Gimil just pointed at the hole the ankheg (for that is what it was) came from. “Down you go, boy.”

I lit a stick with a light spell. “Here, Rattlin, you can carry this!” I grinned.

Ratt’s face fell. “Ok, I guess I can go…”

Ord said “There may be some loot at the end of the tunnel. Of course, there may be quite a few turns and intersections…”

I giggled and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll come with you, you big chicken.”

We went down the tunnel, and there were a couple of turns, but we eventually found its nest. There was quite a lot of dried and rotting clothing, like it had eaten fairly well over time. There were also some old leather pouches, with 5o (!) platinum, some with gold and silver too, some small gems, and a giant axe.

Ord and Gimil recognized the axe as a dwarven waraxe and told us about it, but I’ll tell you, I can’t imagine anyone wielding that one handed. It was immense! It did make me wonder if the ankheg had developed a taste for dwarves though…

When we got back, Ord had healed Gimil and they had gotten the horses calmed down, so we moved the bug’s body off the road and plugged the hole a bit, and traveled on until night fell and we found a camp spot.

We were in a pretty good mood, having survived the ankheg and gotten some treasure with it. Bole sang some more songs and we had a pretty nice fire. Ember and Millyeneum played around and we put together a hot meal.

I didn’t even realize that my cold was gone!

Dear Diary, (Godsday, Planting 25)

This morning Ord did a short service for Clangeddin to recognize Godsday. It involved a list of battles that dwarves won and some rituals involving an axe.

I just think that waraxe we found made him feel like he’d been remiss in his religious duties. I wonder if we can look forward to these every Godsday…

Boring day. I mostly re-read you, diary to fix the dates and stuff. Ember played a bit with Rattlin, but all in all, we just traveled. We made camp near a stream.