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<blockquote data-quote="PHDungeon" data-source="post: 5010615" data-attributes="member: 86320"><p>Darren Androsax's 3rd journal</p><p></p><p>Dear Corvin,</p><p></p><p>We are in over our heads. Somehow, inexplicably, after fighting Orcs, travelling across the vale and seeing wonders great and small – Deryl and I are bringing shame to the Androsax name. After our victory against the orc raiders, we travelled with Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn deeper west, past plains and hills until we met a merchant from the far off town of Westmore.</p><p>He seemed sullen and circumspect on account of some powers behind the throne. Powers, as it will no doubt dawn on you, of shadow, of ancient lineage and deep rivals to the Androsaxes – none other than House Tremaine! It took all of my resolve to stay with our friends and pursue that devil’s pawn Flagg, but brother, I assure you, my proud sword and I will one day rattle through the streets of Westmore.</p><p></p><p>After heading south, an omen of the old gods met us on the road – a raven. Bjorn found this to be a special symbol of the gods, circling as it did in the direction we presumed Flagg had taken. The waters of the land grew more corrupt as we entered the Ogrefist Hills. And let me tell you Corvin, they do not name places for fancy in the Vale. There were Ogres- corpses, foul spawn of Ogres and men, and even a hulking variety sporting two heads. And that, I’m afraid is where our trouble began.</p><p>We had dispatched a pair of animate corpses, done in by Flagg and his retinue, and brought to cursed sentience by the hulking, disturbing stellae of the flaming eye. Could you research this, by the way? I suspect it was a cult of orcdom, given the crude manufacture. </p><p></p><p>Beyond this, the hills growing ever more watchful, and ever following that ‘lucky’ bird – we came across a homestead surrounded by thorns and adorned with skulls. It seemed pleasant enough. I called out, and my friends seemed annoyed. I figured the skulls were mostly of Orcs, you know? As we approached closer – great wails and moans could be heard from an oversized hut. You remember how kind Deryl was whenever one of our servants was injured? Well, bless her fiery and unpredictable heart, she dashed into the hut to see what was the matter. Bella, ever the diplomat, trained her crossbow on our potential hosts, further up the hill. Remind me to leave Bella out of future negotiations, by the way. </p><p></p><p>Deryl came out – well, more flew out – of the hut and just as I was able to set her on Fairfax, out came a slobbering, wailing giant of a creature, one head in agony, the second lolling in a stage of horrid decomposition. Taking pity on the creature, I said what I thought was sympathetic ... “Well, at least two-heads are better than one.” Clearly, the smarter noggin had died, because the remaining one got quite enraged. We had to retreat – a personal first. And now the others won’t stop lecturing us. </p><p>I told Deryl not to let it bother her. We just have to be TWICE as brave the next time.</p><p></p><p>We approach an old temple with the same flaming eye pillars. Flagg is close. Wish us well – vengeance for poor old Crumm is at hand.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="PHDungeon, post: 5010615, member: 86320"] Darren Androsax's 3rd journal Dear Corvin, We are in over our heads. Somehow, inexplicably, after fighting Orcs, travelling across the vale and seeing wonders great and small – Deryl and I are bringing shame to the Androsax name. After our victory against the orc raiders, we travelled with Bella, Bjorn and Torfinn deeper west, past plains and hills until we met a merchant from the far off town of Westmore. He seemed sullen and circumspect on account of some powers behind the throne. Powers, as it will no doubt dawn on you, of shadow, of ancient lineage and deep rivals to the Androsaxes – none other than House Tremaine! It took all of my resolve to stay with our friends and pursue that devil’s pawn Flagg, but brother, I assure you, my proud sword and I will one day rattle through the streets of Westmore. After heading south, an omen of the old gods met us on the road – a raven. Bjorn found this to be a special symbol of the gods, circling as it did in the direction we presumed Flagg had taken. The waters of the land grew more corrupt as we entered the Ogrefist Hills. And let me tell you Corvin, they do not name places for fancy in the Vale. There were Ogres- corpses, foul spawn of Ogres and men, and even a hulking variety sporting two heads. And that, I’m afraid is where our trouble began. We had dispatched a pair of animate corpses, done in by Flagg and his retinue, and brought to cursed sentience by the hulking, disturbing stellae of the flaming eye. Could you research this, by the way? I suspect it was a cult of orcdom, given the crude manufacture. Beyond this, the hills growing ever more watchful, and ever following that ‘lucky’ bird – we came across a homestead surrounded by thorns and adorned with skulls. It seemed pleasant enough. I called out, and my friends seemed annoyed. I figured the skulls were mostly of Orcs, you know? As we approached closer – great wails and moans could be heard from an oversized hut. You remember how kind Deryl was whenever one of our servants was injured? Well, bless her fiery and unpredictable heart, she dashed into the hut to see what was the matter. Bella, ever the diplomat, trained her crossbow on our potential hosts, further up the hill. Remind me to leave Bella out of future negotiations, by the way. Deryl came out – well, more flew out – of the hut and just as I was able to set her on Fairfax, out came a slobbering, wailing giant of a creature, one head in agony, the second lolling in a stage of horrid decomposition. Taking pity on the creature, I said what I thought was sympathetic ... “Well, at least two-heads are better than one.” Clearly, the smarter noggin had died, because the remaining one got quite enraged. We had to retreat – a personal first. And now the others won’t stop lecturing us. I told Deryl not to let it bother her. We just have to be TWICE as brave the next time. We approach an old temple with the same flaming eye pillars. Flagg is close. Wish us well – vengeance for poor old Crumm is at hand. [/QUOTE]
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