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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Chaldfont" data-source="post: 1663044" data-attributes="member: 1472">Journal EntryNow that I’ve had some time to rest, I can again put pen to paper.We wandered the caves for some time after being attacked by what I now guess to be a gelatinous cube. We weren’t quite lost, but we didn’t quite know where we were either. We settled on always taking the right fork when given a choice in order to better retrace our steps when we ran into the inevitable dead end.In one of these dead ends we were assaulted by shadowy humanoid shapes that seemed to suck the life out of anything they touched. Despite our best efforts, the things were able to slay two of the survivors. Fear crept over me and I called for a retreat, thinking all was lost. Doran and I fled but that scrapheap Ten-66 stood fast. I don’t know if it didn’t hear me, or if the bloodlust was upon it, but it just stood there, swinging it’s massive war scythe like the Reaper himself. Not even when the souls of the dead rose to join their dread masters did Ten-66 flee. Emboldened by the machine’s last stand, Doran returned to the fight. The two of them hewed into the dark enemy until they were no more.We continued on after sleeping the night in the shattered remains of the inn. Later we found the skeleton of some long-dead wizard. After making sure it was not some necromantic horror, I searched it and found a magic wand and some other treasure. What a find! I began to wonder how I might be able to activate the wand, thinking back to what little magic I learned from my father. But before I could try anything, Doran started accusing us all of theft.It seemed he had lost his belt-pouch. He started accusing everyone. Knowing that I might soon have a frothing shifter with a greataxe on our hands, I sprang into action. I immediately asked everyone to empty their pockets. In doing so I hoped to prove to Doran that he had lost his pouch in one of the battles—surely none of us was a thief.But when his pouch did not turn up, he was not satisfied. I saw the red rage was almost upon him. I had no time to lose. I was desperate. I seized upon the first idea that came to my mind as I stood there holding the magic wand.“My meditations on this wand have revealed its true purpose!” I exclaimed. That got everyone’s attention! I explained that the wand had the power to reveal when someone was lying and proposed to ask each member of the group if he or she had stolen Doran’s money pouch. I hoped to deceive them enough to reveal their lie in some minor tic or unconscious wink or some such clue. I made a great show of activating the wand, inventing an incantation on the spot.“Oh great magical wand! Reveal to me if this soul is telling the truth when I ask: Did you steal Doran’s purse?” Unfortunately, my ruse failed and I was no closer to placating the furious shifter.That’s when Liandra, one of the two remaining survivors turned to me and said, “But there is yet one who has not been tested, Doran.” To prove my innocence, I was forced into handing over the wand. At this point, my ruse proved successful, though not working as I had hoped. For Liandra revealed herself as the thief by activating the wand!She summoned forth a great spider web to pinion us. I was the only one who reacted quickly enough to avoid its sticky strands. In an instant, I drew my rapier and lunged at her, but she deftly avoided my clumsy thrust. Liandra reacted by tossing her torch into the web. It burst into flame, filling the chamber with smoke and the smell of burning flesh. I would later find out that the conflagration killed the only other survivor and rendered Ten-66 inert. But Doran was still conscious.And he was angry.Once again I was treated to the ferocity of a shifter rage. He lunged through the burning web, sticky cinders clinging to him, his hair and beard smoldering. His great charge lent force to the savage blow of his axe and he struck Liandra down with a single mighty blow. I watched, stunned as he recovered his money pouch from what was left of the would-be thief. He gave to me the wand and kept several of her potions. One, he forced into the slack jaws of Ten-66, naively hoping it would be a curative. Nothing happened, so we dragged old bucket head behind us, still seeking escape.We propped the warforged up in the ruins of the inn, hoping that, scarecrow-like, it would scare off any assailants. We were able to scrounge some food and drink from the ruins, but not enough to sustain us for more than a day or two. We spent a restless night there, gathering our strength for the next day’s search.Giacomo Jones d'Cannith</blockquote>

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