29th of Hydref, 742

We are about to enter Orfannis. We can see the forest fence from the gates of this town, Mônt-du-loes-Elphes. The trees have to be at least a hundred feet tall. And there’s a weird trick of our eyes in play. We are still at least 30 miles from the Tower, but I’d swear I can actually see the tower reaching above the trees in the far distance. Couldn’t be true. It would have to be ridiculously huge to be visible from this distance, right?

I’m also kind of pissed at Dusk. Not in a big way or anything, but I wanted to talk about my night of bliss in Rudem, and they just won’t even talk to me about it. What is the deal with that?

21st Day of Hydref, 742

Last night, I became a woman! If for only a few hours, I overcame the spell that has cursed my appearance, and I lay with a man.

For some time, we have been traveling through the Reglinate of Rudar, a realm ruled by women, where men have no rights. It has been refreshing not to have to remember ‘my place’ all the time. If I’m honest, it has also been a little refreshing to watch the men squirm a little at not being able to do whatever they want to do whenever they want to do it, as well. . . .

Anyway, yesterday we arrived in the capital city, known as Rudem. We passed through on our way to Shi’enarath, but it seemed as though the city didn’t even exist, like some mad creator had said it was there, but hadn’t actually gone through the trouble to create it. I guess I was just in a fog. Anyway, this time, we spent a little time roaming the city, and I found a brothel! A brothel of male prostitutes. I decided, ‘Well, shit, why not?" I chose to buy a young man for the night. I don’t know if it was my inexperience, his experience or the combination of the two, but it was magical. We went several times throughout the night. I had no idea it could be like this! Today, it’s a tiny bit of torture to walk, but it was totally worth it. I can’t wait to talk to my bestie, Dusk, about last night. . . .

As an aside, that small folk guy, Myroc? He found a place to dip his wick, and we’ve had to spend a good bit of the morning finding cures for his social ailments.

Oh, and Tiffany got rolled. He decided to just rent a room in the brothel, without companionship, and he woke up with all of his money gone. When he complained the city guard showed up and started telling him that he needed to stop creating a disturbance, so apparently it’s a fairly regular racket that the watch is in on.

Perhaps it is fitting that today is the 31st Day of Hydref, the day the dead walk Azhonar, for today a new wraith was born to haunt our forest. Here is how this wraith came to be.

In the land to our north, the Kingdom of Golginlaw, great unrest is beginning to rage. The King, though no particular friend to The People, is a good man who seeks to live in harmony with the world. His son, Prince Garewyc, however, has fallen under the sway of the Alcorite Church, in particular the Ronnissites, that faction that despises all who are not human and all who believe differently from them.

The tension between the hate-filled insular Ronissites of Prince Garewyc and the inclusive loyalists of the King has spilled into the open. In response, to help protect his own people, the god of the Dgr, Pron-ak-Torzzekkan has dispatched a group of adventurers to locate and return with the Ugshac, that legendary artifact from the Time of the Threefold Peace. Along the path of their quest, these adventurers made their way to the City of the Tower and entreated the Priestess to allow them into the Caverns of the Keys.

The Priestess, under command from the Goddess, assented to their request, and they descended under the Great Tree of the Goddess here in Orfannis to attempt retrieval of the Keys to the Chamber of the Stone in the Lost City of Unshac, where legend says the Ugshac is located. They faced guardians and challenges. The met and passed Vroot, the tree troll. They fought the Vhiruweths and the Vroth. The killed the two ogres. They survived the spores of the choker fungi, and evaded the spear trap.

And they faced the three tests. In the test of COURAGE, a human female named Persici, and one of The People named Yen were both selected, and both succeeded, and so the Key of Courage was won. In the final test, the test of HUMILITY, an urcun warrior named Oreg and one of the not-people named Dusk were both selected, and both succeeded, and so the Key of Humility was won. But in the middle test, the test of EMPATHY, two were selected. One was a human woman of great power named Diòiridh who passed the test, and so retrieved the Key of Empathy. The other, however, was a small folk thief named Myroc Yimble. In his vision, he was unable to overcome his nature and choose greed over empathy, and so his mortal body died, and his spirit has transformed into a wraith, and he is damned to haunt this forest until the unmaking of the world.

From the Annals of the Priestesses of the Goddess in Rgnaish uev no Norg’eddlgs (The City of the Tower) in Orfannis

25th day of Rainsearch, 742
So that young princess, Eselreth, who rules this “Wealwyrten Protectorate,” or whatever, went to that orc village we saved – Khorig, was it? Anyway. turns out the bad orcs got mad at the good orcs and killed them all. Something about it not being honorable to firebomb their village when their champion won his duels fair and square. Whatever. So Eselreth shows up at the bad orcs village and kills them all in retribution. Remind me not to piss her off. . . .

27th day of Rainsearch, 742
The princess girlie said we should hire a legal advocate, so we did. Some creepy looking human named Illtyd. No sense of humor, at all. Seems to know his business, though. Anyway, it turns out that Sir Koran is being represented by Turin the Solicitor. I never heard of him, but I guess he’s famous. More to the point he’s expensive. Too expensive for a knight like Koran to afford. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

28th day of Rainsearch, 742
Our fancy, shmancy advocate got the princess girlie to write some legal letter that forces Lord Biduryk (our old ally from Rinnings) to appear and testify at our trial. He also picked our Judge – some noblewoman named Alestia. We tried to see if Sir Koran would accept a financial payment of blood debt to settle this whole business, but he wasn’t having it. I guess there’s no two ways about it; we are going to trial.

25th day of Hellsfire, 742
So the Crown’s judge and the Accuser’s judge have showed up. The Crown is represented by Lady Ovaris, some baronet of a small village. Sir Koran’s judge is his family friend, a knight named Sir Evis. The princess girlie says the trial will be day after tomorrow.

27th day of Hellsfire, 742
Well, that was weird. So this Turin the Solicitor guy brings in this certified wizard whose sole job is to cast a spell forcing us to tell the truth. Anyway, he starts asking questions in a way that makes us look guilty as hell. I, however, am brilliant, so I found a way to answer that was managing to reveal the whole truth, including Duke Ungarth’s involvement. Just as I was about to spill the beans, Turin practically shouts that the prosecution wishes to drop all charges! Sir Koran was pissed!

We wanted to talk to Sir Koran, since it seems his brother was used by the Duke. Since Koran isn’t exactly on speaking terms with us, Lord Biduryk suggested that he could act as an intermediary for us. He’s just a lowly baronet on paper, but everyone in the Kingdom knows he’s the King’s main man, so Koran will have to grant us a meeting. We’re gonna meet with him tomorrow evening.

28th day of Hellsfire, 742
Busy day!

Started off right after breakfast with that dwarven god, Pron-ak-Torzekkan, materializing right in our room at the palace! I really couldn’t begin to describe the experience.

Anyway, uh, the long and the short of it is that we have to go find some dwarf artifact that is supposed to have been lost in prehistoric times. That’s all the information we got. Not very wordy, is Pron-ak-Torzekkan.

After that, Lord Biduryk caught up with Sir Koran and showed him a private journal that our old pal Xelbritha, um, “liberated” from Duke Ungarth. It totally outlines Duke Ungarth’s plots and how Koran’s brother was involved in them, implicating him in treason against the Crown. So that evening, Sir Koran met with us. Persici tried to talk him into forming a resistance movement to resist Prince Garewyc. Koran apologized to us for charging us with murder, but then just left. What Persici was proposing was a big ask, I guess.

29th day of Hellsfire, 742
We left Caer Dvars this morning, en route to Zadakkanekk (or whatever the damned unpronounceable name of that dwarf town is). On the way, we were ambushed by three firebreathing lizards (I later learned that they are called lesser dragons). We defeated them, but not before Oreg was killed. Luckily, Persici was able to somehow raise him from the death with some kind of magic hoodoo.

30th day of Hellsfire, 742
Well! I’ve never been so insulted in all my life! The dungeon? Just because I don’t think I ought to have to pay a tax every damned time I enter a town?

1st day of Medi, 742
Some friends. They just left me there, in that dungeon, until they were good and ready to leave this stinking town. No appreciation whatsoever for my principled stand against tyranny. To make it worse, every time I bring it up to one of them, they just roll their eyes and agree with me with exaggerated patience. It is completely obvious they don’t take this seriously.

Anyway, our wild goose chase (some roasted wild goose would hit the spot about now….) seems to continue. Nobody found anything useful out, at all, except that somebody they all call “the Chronicler” told them there might be more information in the dwarf capital, so that’s where we’re going.

9th day of Medi, 742
We arrived in the dwarf capital, a town they call Ghruzzikk or something. So the Dorkhustakk (I think that’s a king), a guy named Trokkizz III, gave us a piece of paper that gives us access to any area of the stronghold. He also agreed to provide us room and board. I couldn’t find any roasted goose, but I may have eaten my share of suckling pig.

11th day of Medi, 742
I hate libraries. They’re dusty and boring. Anyway, we found a vague reference to this Ugzhak bauble we’re supposed to be finding. Somebody once was invited to go through something called the “Trial of the Three Keys” in Shi’enarath. Pretty thin information, if you ask me.

13th day of Medi, 742
We found a one-line reference in a text on crystalline structure of all things that reinforced the link between this Ugzhak and Shi’enarath. We’ll head out tomorrow.

19th day of Medi, 742
We’ve made it to Rudem, the capital of a kingdom known as Rudar. They only let women be nobles or leaders here. Never seen that before. Strange.

31st day of Medi, 742
We made it to Shi’enarath, and we completed the trial of the keys. Really, most of us just kind of hung out. Bottom line, we finished the Trial. Guess what? All we got was a letter of introduction from the Priestess of the Goddess here in Shi’enarath to the Lord of the Tower in Orfannis, whoever that is. Apparently, the Trial of the Keys just determined that we are “worth” or whatever to try to take the keys from “beneath the tower,” whatever that means.

Oh, and we still don’t know where this Ugzhak thingy even is. It is pretty clear that we are just chasing something called the “keys” that will give us access to the damned thing, if we ever figure out where it is!

Tomorrow, we set back out across Rudar toward Orfannis and this “Tower” of theirs.

What a couple of days!

So we’ve been cooling our heels in those ruins under that goblin cave for weeks, waiting for the elf woman’s leg to grow back. Finally, she’s fit enough – her name is Yen, by the way – to travel. Gods, I thought we’d never get moving again.

Anyway, less than a day’s travel up the road toward Caer Dvars, we came to a village of orcs. I think they call the place Khorig. Anyway, so the orcs were all in a tizzy because some ogre leading another group of orcs was going to do something bad to them if they couldn’t send a champion to beat them in single battle. Apparently, these village orcs have been hanging around with druids too long, or something, because they don’t have any warriors in their village! Orcs without warriors! Who ever heard of that?

So Oreg decides he can take on this ogre for them and we all travel to his village and Oreg challenges him. Big son of a bitch he was. Vruug the Vile, I think he said his name was. Anyway, he’s huge and Oreg, good as he is with that big old bastard sword of his gets his leg cut off straight away! We go back to the village and everyone is pissed or whatever.

So Persici is kinda pissed because the orc village’s chieftain wouldn’t let her fight on their behalf. Somewhere in all of our bitching and moaning about Oreg getting beat, she says, “screw it,” and we all traipse back up to the Ogre’s place, and she decides to challenge him. She lasts a little longer. Her arm gets crushed, but she marks Vruug pretty badly. His next strike cuts her leg off, too. Tiffany gets all red in the face and decides to challenge Vruug. Top of his head comes off, just as neat as you please.

So now, I’m pissed. I just firebomb the bastard. He dies, the village palisade starts to burn, along with a bunch of orcs that were atop it to watch the combat, and we leave.

The orcs at Khorig seem glad that Vruug is dead. I don’t really care what they think.

Next day, which is today, we go on up to Caer Dvars. After paying our entry taxes, we’re informed that a bunch of us are summoned to the hall of Princess Eselreth, the ruler of this little town and the surrounding countryside, which is known as the Wealwyrtn Protectorate. We are escorted to her hall, where she is nice enough, but she tells us we can’t leave because some of us – Myroc, Oreg, Dusk and Yen – are to stand trial for the murder of some knight or other. His brother has tracked them down and he’s all pissed off.

The Princess doesn’t seem to put much stock in the charges, and she gives us free run of the town and puts us up in her own home, but she’s bound by law to see the trial held. What a pickle!

Anyway, after she releases us, we take Tiffany’s corpse to some dwarven holy woman we heard about and beg her to resurrect him. She tells us to wait and disappears for an hour or two. When she comes back, she tells us she will certainly resurrect Tiffany, but in return, after our trial her god, Pron-Akh-Torzekkan (really, can’t dwarves just have simple names like Bob or something?) will place a geas on us and we will have to undertake a journey. A questor’s journey, apparently. More to come on that later, I guess.

Transcribed by Dusk the Faerie at the request of the author

After we beat the goblins and their ogre chieftain, we decided to explore the rest of the caves they had been living in. We mostly didn’t find anything, but one room was filled with wooden barricades and had a passage leading away and down.

We followed it along until we came to a place where time was distorted and we we standing in front of a temple in an open field. We decided to go in. We found an ancient temple that had been the home of some kind of dragon-like, reptilian humanoids. Some kind of spell was centered on the altar in their sanctuary and it gave off rays of time distortion. Inside those rays, we were in a past so far back that I can’t even understand the numbers, but outside of those rays, the temple was a crumbling ruin.

We explored the upper level of the ruin and I killed some priest by sticking my hand into the ray where he lived and blowing him up with my magic, while the rest of us stayed outside the ray. In another room which was outside of the time distortion, some kind of sheet-like creature was hiding under the dust. It caught poor Ren up and was crushing her to death, so Persici took that big halberd of hers and attacked. Well she killed the whatchamacallit, but cut off Ren’s leg in the process, so that was bad. Ren started to go into shock, but Dusk was able to bring her out of it. We all rested there and after we were done resting, Dusk cast a spell on Ren that should cause her to grow her leg back over the next couple of weeks.

Figuring the ruin was safe enough, we left Ren behind with some food and water and kept going. We found a vestry that was partially in and partially out of the time distortion. In one of the wardrobes inside the distortion, I found a black cloak that I’ve taken as my own. We also found a solid platinum curved dagger! Damn thing’s got to be worth more than my whole shitbag of a village a few times over.

We also rescued a couple of the dragony thingies from some other ones that were torturing them. That ended weirdly, because Persici asked for a hug and one of them actually gave her one! We found some more booty here and there, including a curved sword that seems to be indestructible. Everybody wants it, but nobody knows how to use it, so I don’t know what’ll happen with that.

We went down a level and explored some more rooms. This floor was also in and out of the time distortion, but not as much. One room that was still in the time distortion was an older larder. Persici found some old wine in there and had a sip. A few minutes later, she started hallucinating and kept at that for a couple hours.

Myroc picked a lock and his quick reflexes saved him from a poisoned needle trap. Inside the chest, we found silver and a really nice, light bronze sword similar to my own. I decided to keep it. I’ll practice with it when I get a chance and see if I can learn to use it.

In another room, the dust swirled around until it kind of took on the shape of a man, then it turned back into a cloud of dust and surrounded Myroc’s head, suffocating him. Before we had a chance to do anything to help him, it collapsed, though. Scary shit, right there.

We rested again, and now we’re about to go down the stairs to the next level below.

We are 14 or 15 miles north of Castle Don. I’ve never been so far from my shithole village in my life!

Anyway, today, we finally tracked some wood goblins that some of the rest of the group say were raiding villages to a cave up here. The elf lady, Yen, went in the door and got herself shot in the gut by an arrow, so she came running back out. I looked in and there was a narrow hallway about 5 or 6 paces long with another door at the other end. In between, the goblins had arrow slits that they could fire arrows through at anybody trying to come in uninvited. I figured opening the door at the far end wasn’t going to be easy, so I just blasted it.

Everyone seemed surprised.

Myroc tried crawling past on on the floor under the arrow slits. I ran in and tried to jump over him, but my big clumsy ass fell down in the door. So much for my help. I got rid of the door, then proceeded to fall down in the doorway and put us right back to square one.

I got out of the way and so did Myroc. Tiffany, Oreg and Persici found the goblins who had been shooting at us and, um, “ended” them.

After we caught our breath, we explored a passage that led to a larger cavern with two cells in it. One of the cells contained a couple of women from some village the goblins had raided. We agreed to help them out, if they’d wait for us to return. I guess they didn’t see much point in blundering around in the wilderness, probably without any idea where they even were, so they agreed.

The rest of us pushed deeper into the caves, where we ran into some goblins, and their mates. After a short and ugly fight, we put them down, but just as we did, an ogre charged into the room. Those things are BIG. Anyway, the members of our group with some fight in them put him down, and here we are. As soon as we get done resting, I suppose we’ll push further still.

This is exciting!

I’ve asked the faerie lady, Dusk, to write this down for me. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to learn to read and write, myself.

Anyway, this morning, I had just had bloody well enough. Even though I barely had three shillings to my name, I decided not to find work, and instead dropped into the Cat and Fiddle Tavern to drown my sorrows. Alcor’s tiny left nut, I’ve just had it! It isn’t my fault I was born this way!

Anyway, while I was drinking, still fairly early in the day – not yet lunchtime – three stupid laborers came in. They saw me sitting at the bar, drinking. The shitbags thought it would be funny to pretend to be attracted to me. It isn’t like I don’t know I’m ugly. Alcor’s teeth! Why do people have to be such assholes? Anyway, I was starting to get pretty hot, and I was afraid I was going to slip my grip on the burn again, when this group of five adventurers came in. One of them, a human man, chased off the cock-sucking goose fuckers. So that was good, but then, this little small folk twerp wants to start a conversation. Like I really wanted to talk!

Anyway, I guess I was losing my grip on the burn because about that time, the man who had chased off the dickheads asked me why my hands were smoking. Crap! I was caught!

I confessed to him that I’m a firestarter. Then the strangest thing happened. They asked me to join them! At first I refused. In fact I refused a couple of times. I’ve had people pretend to befriend me before. It has always turned out for the worst. But then, this big orc that’s with them sits down next to me, orders a huge plate of food and two drinks. He pushes one over to me an just starts eating. No talking, just eating.

To be honest, I’m not sure what happened or how, but somehow, I agreed to join these folks. So now I’ve hitched my wagon to theirs.

After a while, a cloth merchant came in, and one of the group, a woman named Persici asked to buy some of his cloth. He refused in a very condescending way (damned uppity merchants and city folks, always thinking they’re better than everyone else). Persici wasn’t having it. She threw him to the ground and held a halberd that she carries to his neck. Threats and insults were exchanged and the incident ended with the merchant leaving, trying desperately not to look afraid. He wasn’t all that convincing.

Persici pulled the small folk guy, Myroc, aside. After they talked for a few minutes, Myroc practically bounded out of the tavern and Persici suggested that we find a place to wait for Myroc’s return. We went to the Hunter’s Hall Inn, fancier than any inn I’ve ever even heard of, and the orc, Oreg, bought me a bed in the common room to sleep off my buzz.

When they waked me, we were leaving town, and Myroc had somehow gotten his hands on a bolt of fine brocade. It must be worth a bloody fortune! We travelled north out of town and spent the night under the stars in a nearby village.

It all began by chance, really. About eight days ago, several of us happened to be standing nearby one another outside the Hunter’s Arms Inn in Rinnings, though we didn’t know each other. Nonetheless, we were approached as a group by a messenger who identified himself as one of Duke Ungarth’s men. He instructed us to report to Ungarth’s court the following morning.

Since it was early in the day, I suggested (since I was clearly the brains of the group) that we should all find a nice tavern from which to pass the time. Having done so, we proceeded to introduce ourselves. I was the only male in the group! Yen was an elvish woman from the Orfannis, who showed a great deal of promise with the longbow. Dusk was a faerie with a mysterious background, but who seems to have some skill with magic, as many of her kind do.

And there was X. A vision of loveliness. An orc woman whose tongue has been cut out, she sports a tattoo across her chest that we all assume is her name, though I cannot pronounce it. Ah, such a wonderful creature. . . .

But I digress. We passed the day with only a few minor inconveniences which may or may not have included Yen crushing an already defeated thug’s head under her boot while I was sleeping off the effects of my generous patronage of a local establishment of repast and refreshment. The following morning, I found a branch of the Hanseatics and took out a letter of credit with them. With this bit of business concluded, we promptly reported to Ungarth’s hall.

Ungarth received us graciously enough, though he seemed a bit. . .nonplussed. . .that we were, every one of us, non-human. At any rate, he explained that there were some villages to the east of Rinnings experiencing raids of some sort. He commanded that we investigate and exterminate those responsible. We agreed, though we truly had no other choice since he is a duke and we are mere commoners, and non-human ones at that. As we were leaving, we were approached by a tall, thin nobleman of middle age. He did not name himself, but introduced himself as the representative of the King in Rinnings. He pointed out that the King and the Crown Prince are known to be at odds and that Ungarth is Prince Garewyc’s chief ally. That being the case, he instructed us not only to exterminate those responsible, but to bring evidence of their guilt to him, as well.

We spent the evening at an unremarkable inn and set out. Within half a day, we reached the first of several villages that had been raided, East Fernish by name. The villagers said that orcs had raided them, taking all of their livestock and burning their grain silo. Yen found the raiders’ tracks, but was able to determine in some kind of outdoorsy way that the tracks were not orcish, but human. With my clearly superior ability to read people, I was able to determine that the villagers at least believed their village had been raided by orcs. Quite a puzzle!

Since someone had clearly taken some kind of pains to disguise themselves as orcs we decided to travel to the nearby orc village of Gnurrash. The village was locked down. They knew that they had been framed for the raid on East Fernish and were obviously apprehensive that humans would arrive to punish them. Their chieftain, upon learning that we knew that they weren’t responsible, commanded his village champion to accompany us and cleanse the stain on our honor. Our little band grew to 5, and we met a dour, grumpy and utterly stuck up orc named Oreg. He actually had the temerity to threaten me!

Anyway, we returned to East Fernish and picked up the raiders’ trail, which lead generally east through several other villages to the village known as Dorwich. There, we found that the villagers were saying they had been raided by druids, who had not harmed any humans, but had slaughtered four sheep and two guinea fowl in an apparently ritual fashion. Trouble is, druids don’t act that way — they find animals to be sacred. The villagers didn’t seem to understand how important we are and we got very little information from them.

From Dorwich, we followed the trail north. In the next village, the villagers said they hadn’t seen any raiders, and they didn’t believe that they had. They mentioned that the only strangers passing through had been a few of the Duke’s men bearing a wagon full of supplies and meat. My beautiful X put two and two together and somehow managed to communicate her insight to us — the raiders were actually the Duke’s men! The plot really began to thicken, let me tell you!

Anyway, we kept following the trail north until it crossed the road from Rinnings to the monastery at Connag-Ter. The trail crossed the road and continued north, but we elected to go east and investigate the monastery to see what the monks might know and to see if any refugees might be seeking sanctuary there.

We arrived at the monastery and proceeded to the sanctuary. We inquired from one of the monks praying there what he knew about the raids. He indicated that he didn’t know anything about the raids per se but that even though the Duke was known to dislike the druids, he didn’t believe they were responsible, since the behavior wasn’t in character for them. We asked where we could find the Abbot and the monk pointed out the entrance to the Abbot’s office behind the sanctuary.

When we entered, the Abbot pleasantly asked what he could do for us. I might accidentally have mentioned we knew the Duke’s men were behind the raids. Anyway, the important thing is that the Abbot suggested that we must be mistaken, that the Duke surely had the raids in hand, however. Thing is, I could tell that he was lying. We said that of course, he was probably right, and that we’d take our leave. Just outside his office door I whispered to our group that the Abbot, ah. . . was a threat and in league with the raiders and that we should, strictly in self-defense, take action. Via some dark magic the other monk, who was still praying in the sanctuary, heard me and took my words in the worst possible light. He ran out to get the guards.

While we were arguing about what we should do — stupid Oreg was going on about “honor” or some such — the two gate guards came in. The fight was short and ugly. The guards didn’t fare well. Once the fight was over, we returned to the Abbot’s office, and I demanded to know why his men had attacked me. A bit of an argument ensued and we suggested he round up all of his men and ask the what had happened. He did, and the monk who had raised the alarm said that he had heard me say that we should kill the Abbot! Can you imagine? I tried to smooth things over, but we were made very aware that our presence at the monastery was no longer welcome, so we left.

We returned to the trail and followed it north to the village of Ham. I asked if they raised pigs, because, well, you know. Anyway, nobody seemed to see the towering humor in my joke. Humans are so dull. We questioned the villagers and found, once again, that the village had been raided by what appeared to be druids, who had slaughtered a hog, taken the body but left the head lying in what was supposed to appear to be a magic circle of rowan branches. We weren’t fooled.

After a bit of discussion, we decided that we should double back to the south to visit the druid circle at the edge of the Orfannis forest. We trekked down there and met the Grand High Muckety-Muck druid guy. He was a weirdo. He said he knew that his people were being improperly framed for the raids, but declined to offer us any aid. Finally, after badgering him for a while, we at least got him to give us a herbalist’s kit, which was nice, I guess.

We returned to Ham. The trail led cross-country to the Village of Hartwich. There, we found something new. Hartwich had been raided by the Duke’s men, but it had been raided again a bare week later by goblins. Rey was able to confirm that two separate sets of tracks led in two separate directions. The first, the Duke’s men, led generally south. The second, the goblins, led northwest.

My lovely X followed the goblin tracks while Yen followed the Duke’s men south. A day or so later they both returned. At great length, we were able to determine from X that the goblin tracks continued northwest to the King’s road and beyond. At that point, X had abandoned the trail and returned to us. Yen, on the other hand discovered the camp where the Duke’s men were hiding. We rested for the remainder of the day, then set out at nightfall for the raiders’ encampment. Under cover of night, Yen sneaked in close to the camp and attacked the three men sitting around the campfire. Bedlam ensued. Oreg charged in to defend Yen. Yen took a serious hit to the knee and went down. The leader of the bandits came out of his tent, only to stumble over the body of one of his men who had fallen at his tent flap. A mage came out of another tent. Oreg, who seems to prefer attacking the legs, cut down a a couple of men, while dusk healed Yen. The mage took the opportunity created by the general confusion to sprint out of the camp and escape. In less than thirty seconds, the fight was over. We searched the tent and found a dispatch the leader had been writing to Ungarth explaining that they had raided several camps and were waiting for us to show up, as Ungarth had warned them we would, so they could kill us. Double crossed! The dispatch also mentioned that other raids had been noted in Barony Don and Barony Ulfris, but that they weren’t the work of the Duke’s men.

Anyway, remembering that the King’s man had wanted proof, we cut off the leader’s head and took the unfinished dispatch and returned to Rinnings, where we informed the King’s man of our discovery and activities.