OOC:
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I coulda sworn I posted this last night
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The last enemy falls, and the battle ends. Someone quickly staunches Goldenhorn's wounds.
"That was rather terrifying," Lord Mallaby says,
"How do you manage it on a regular basis?"
Before moving on, the group finds the remains of an unfortunate traveler, wrapped up in a cocoon of webbing--a dwarf, from the looks of him, but now little more than a dried husk. Nearby are his last intact possessions. His axe has broken, but a small pile of gold remains, as well as his plate armor, which proves to have some small magic in it, which may explain its good condition.
"Shall we move on?" Mallaby says.
"If the map is correct, it's little more than an hour's march to Achirem. We may find shelter there for the night."
[sblock=armor]Dwarven Plate Armor +1[/sblock]