The Chronicles of Etinerra

Eastern Borders - Harold's Journal

Winter had been a busy time for Harold Trotter, ever since he saw his first white mouse in Enonia. Kee the Elf had observed him chasing a cat soon after that, but there had not been time to stop and explain the strange event or the fact that these subtle portents meant littlelings were spying on Enonia. It had taken some time for Harold to track the spies out of Enonia and as far as the Town of Cheddon, where he learned which house from the Direlands the spies originated. Satisfied that the spies were not allied with his old enemy, Sarumort, Harold camped out the remaining winter months in and around Cheddon before his return trek to his adopted home of Enonia. In particular, he felt some adventuring with his old companions would be a welcome spring vacation – as well as a source for replenishing his personal funds.

It was refreshing to see that any day spent lurking around the Mug and Pot Tavern was still a chance to see familiar faces. Parabellum, Kee, Aramin, and the ever-silent Ragnar were on hand – with a host of unfamiliar faces as well! It seemed the mercenary company Harold had tried to help found had floundered during the winter months and Aramin was now more of an unofficial leader to a ragtag band of explorers than anything else. There was also talk of some remarkable events that had occurred while Harold was away in Cheddon. An earthquake? A floating tower over a lake? A striped mage? Hmm, that made Harold a little nervous about his own clothes, but no one else seemed to notice. But what really took Harold by surprise was the sight of another littleling amongst the company!

Harold quickly overheard this other littleling went by the name of Randy. Was he another spy? Or worse, Sarumort in disguise? Harold vowed not to take his eyes off this “Randy”, even if it meant taking another trip to the old dwarf mines. Harold had always hated going to the old dwarf mines and long since thought they were played out for valuables, but there was much talk around the table in hushed voices of some quest and of dark ones that needed to be stopped there. Oh well. Perhaps Harold could find another secret treasure room down there after all.

The woods around the mines were as busy as ever with the Kobold-Goblin War – Harold and company seemed equidistant from the far-off fighting the whole half-day march to the mines. On one occasion, Harold was able to pull Randy aside and talk to him about what their sharper ears
heard and Harold was pleased at the results of the truthfulness test he put Randy through.

Everyone at least half-expected an ambush, so it was a welcome surprise when they were the ambushers, coming across a score of kobolds who looked like they had just lost another fight. Much time was spent parleying with the kobold sergeant, so much so that Harold was soon siding with those who hung back but quietly whispered that maybe killing these kobolds would have been a better idea. Having a squad of kobolds recovering behind you while you dungeon delve did not
seem like a great idea to Harold, but that is what they did anyway.

Harold’s chief concern was for his trusty donkey, Hermione. The company had only one other pack animal amongst them, a mule, so the mule and donkey were led down into the mines and left in the first large cave.

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Eastern Borders - One Million Goblins

My travels took me to Enonia. After days of solitary travel, introspection, prayer, and
scourging of my flesh with barbed wire and a cat-o’-nine, I was ready for a mission. And for
my sins, they gave me one.

The bad news was that the King would not be sending troops to help these poor people. The
good news was that there were people in town who were better than the King’s men. I joined
up with 7 others, an auspicious number…

Dolph the Littleing; full of surprises, a fighter and mage. Izil, a skilled fighter tired of
living on the streets. Castin, a powerful fighter with a disturbing penchant for flaming
oil. Myself, a humble paladin, and barely that after the incident that nearly stripped me of
my calling. Jorann, a female cleric encased in enough armor to stop a siege tower and
protected by her silent men at arms. Dul, a dangerous and efficient ranger, and Darius, a cleric of The Light. Both were familiar with the surrounding area. Irem, a thief and apparently proud of it. At first I considered ways to set him on fire, but he soon proved he was not an ordinary thief.

We set off for the goblin’s fortress. On the way there, an impossibly rare and disturbing
earthquake shook the earth. It brought with it feelings of despair and fear. When it ended I
found myself on the ground with the taste of copper in my mouth. Darius was pale. We kept
moving.

An incident in the woods where we had to camp for the night surprised us all. The Children
of the Troll found us; they were entranced by Izil’s horn, and delighted by the candy that I
gave them with the stipulation that some was for their Father. They shared with us what they
knew of the Crystal Tower, which Dul had spied moments before from a treetop perch, and
showed us The Dark by means of a visual hallucination. The Dark was their name for a hideous
creature with bony plates on its head and tentacles where its face should be that they
promised would soon arrive to our world. It is good to know your enemy.
I failed in making them understand the difference between good and evil, however, which made
it impossible for me to rest the remainder of the night.

Around midday we reached the goblin fortress, or “inn” as those with me insisted on calling
it. A large rambling structure, only partially mapped by members of my party in previous
visits. I took the front rank with Dul and we charged in, down a steep flight of stairs. To
my surpise, the goblins showed military sense, and had posted sentries armed with shortbows.
They let loose their arrows but we were upon them quickly. Dul dispatched his in a lightning
flurry of blows and moved further down the hall; mine proved more resistant, but soon died
horribly. Castin replaced me in the front rank and pushed on into the fortress with Dul.

Goblins were dying left and right. We soon found ourselves in an intersection of hallways,
subject to a deadly crossfire from goblin archers. We broke off into teams and killed more
of the hideous gobbos, but they kept coming. They just kept coming. It was dark and not
always possible to fight effectively. Dolph went down after taking many wounds. Darius
collapsed shortly after. Jorann was out of healing spells and one of her men was near death.

During a fighting retreat with Izil I was cut down. I’m told the following, that Irem saved
all three of us by binding our wounds; without that, nearly half the party would have died
in the putrid-smelling darkness. Dul threw burning oil at the goblin captain and his elite,
Izil and Jorann fought to keep them at bay, and when all looked bleak Castin slew the goblin
chief. This threw the gobbos into disarray and they fled. Gathering up the wounded, the
party made camp in the woods and Jorann healed Darius. Between the two of them, they saved
me and stabilized Dolph, but the little one remained in a coma until we reached the temple.

It was a source of dark amusement for me to see the faces of the town guard when we arrived
the next day, covered in blood, goblin excrement, and organ meat. Luckily, they did not fire
upon us.

I was left with this thought regarding the forces of evil, of chaos, of the dark here in our
lands. We must kill them. We must incinerate them. Goblin after goblin. Kobold after kobold.
Camp after camp. Army after army.

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Eastern Borders - Inn it to win it
A Very Bloody Spring in Enonia

Thus began a very bloody spring in Enonia as the rain set in and the Kings announcements reached the ears of the public. The commission milled indoors awaiting the kings new years message with the rest of the township. In his message to the people of Enonia his majesty declared that he could not afford to send his armies to the frontier quickly gathering groans from the villages. His majesty encouraged his humbled subjects to continue to work hard for the kingdom finally wishing his people farewell by instructing the people to leave any strange announcements for the lords of Enonia.

Throughout the morning rumors spread amongst the villagers speaking of a Silver Sphere in the Crystal Tower a lost tower that sunk beneath the south Dalewoods. Earlier that day Anya and her thugs were paid to visit New Hope, a city to the South that is believed to be lost to mankind. It was also sighted by Dul “Lone Ranger” of the wild that the kings rangers were in the area working on behalf of some unknown purpose.

The commission set out. Winter paladin of faith unknown, Caston the brave, Dul of the wild range, Darrius of the light, Joran the female littleling and her guard, Irem the rouge, and Dolf the little helper set out towards The Dalewoods Wayfarers Inn. With hopes to discover more treasure in the contested Inn. Along the way to the Dalewoods inn the commission was careful to avoid “Fathers” bridge, and visiting the “black patch” an unexpected earth quake occurred.

(Concept rendering of what The Dalewoods Wayfarers Inn looked like before before the doom of man destroyed it)

Those of the light faith felt chaos and darkness fill they souls. The party treked on to a familiar camp site to ensure reaching the inn quickly. Soon into setting up camp keen ears alerted the party of whistling in the depths of the forest. Thats when Dul the Ranger then spotted it. Climbing high into the tree tops Dul surveyed the area looking for the origins of the strange whistling to witness a Crystal Tower floating high above the tree tops. As the party debated the meaning of this event the whistling came closer and to camp as Izil played along with his hunters horn to match the melody and tune of the whistle. The trollkin had arrived to play their music in harmony with their friend. They sat with the group, enjoyed winters candy and sang the party legends of old time. The song took our party out of their bodies illustrating what lies in the darkness and most of all what The Striped Wizard is after.

See full size image Once morning wet in the commission left for the Inn and came upon it mid afternoon. The party moved in with confidence as goblins that they encountered put up a resistance to claim the inn as their own. The commission fought bravely storming the Dalewoods in and slaying the Goblins of The Green Fist. Irem’s Moltov coctails singed goblin lackeys and Caston the brave’ fire brand dealt righteous justice to the orcs but for as much of a match as the commission was for the green fit the same was true for the commission. The battle of the 4 way intersection divided the party and threatened the lives of 3 in our party. Irem was wise and quick enough to heal them while the rest of the party tended to the orc leader. In the end it was Caston the brave who stuck down the green fist raiding party leader. As the orcs withdrew so did the commission knowing that victory, at least for today, was theirs.

Making it back to town the commission reported their findings to the lord, Sir Yinivax,and were paid for their efforts. Thankful that the adventure cost no one their life the commission went their separate ways once more to live for the moment and revel in victory.

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Eastern Borders - Braving the Ruins

Being a report of Darius, Cleric of Enonia

By the Light, things are looking up, despite this damned and ill-omened rain. I had thought my first journey from Enonia a failure, but the information we brought back—that the ancient mines are now filled with a monstrous horde—was worth something to Marshall Roen. With these funds I was able to prepare myself for a second trip into the wild, this time at the orders of the Marshall himself. Our party—a hardy ranger, a fierce littleling, a rogueish looking man (whom I didn’t quite trust) and two newly joined adventurers—journeyed to the East, seeking a ruined inn which Roen had asked us to win free from monsters. Along the way, we were beset by giant spiders, and the littleling proved true the stories about his race by destroying one of the foul beasts without breaking stride. After skirting a bridge the ranger explained was guarded by a dangerous beast, we reached the inn at last and descended into the cellars below. We explored a small part of the cellars, and killed a number of goblins in a running battle. We also discovered a store of treasure in a locked box which the shifty-looking one was able to open with ease. With our supplies running low, we retreated from the cellars, only to encounter a band of kobold fighters engaged in their own invasion of the inn. I believe the kobolds mistook us for goblins, and our battle was fought in such a way that they couldn’t have seen our faces clearly. If so, good. Perhaps when we return to the inn, the kobolds and goblins will have finished each other off. I pray that this will come to pass.

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Eastern Borders - Tangling with a Bearowl

Aah! Adventurers! Last night was a great victory for the forces of Light and the power of the Elves! The heroic adventurers Dul and Douzane (a fearsome duo), traveled with their hirelings Azoq and Chex (the brother of Chin) east along the road until we came to the great bridge. Upon hearing something moving under the bridge, and remembering the fearsome tales of danger, our party turned south into the forest. After camping for a night and traveling further south, we came again to our Lost Mines.

Upon coming up to the hill which hides the mines, we saw sign of a recent battle. Kobold bodies were strewn like matchsticks upon the fresh snow, blood everywhere. A trail of blood lead to a natural cave on the south side of the hill, a cave that hid a great foe. Douzane climbed up the hill above the entrance to gain a surprise advantage against the foe, while Dul, Azoq, and Chex lured the beast into the holy light of day. What sight beheld our eyes but a giant 7 foot grizzly bear with the head of an owl. A BEAROWL!

It caused a panic in the less than stalwart hirelings, and they broke their line. Chex ran up on the hill drawing the Bearowl’s attention to the hiding Elf, forcing him to lose the chance for a backstab. With a claw, claw, and a fearsome bite, Chex met his end, his skull crushed. Dul fled into the woods, and Azoq, perused by the Bearowl ran up onto the hill and around it, all the while chased by the monster.

Dropping his sword, and drawing his bow, Douzane took aim. The Bearowl caught poor Azoq in his hug, but with a cry of “all power to the Elves” the first arrow from the Elven bow took the beast in the face, driving straight through its skull, stunning but not killing the beast. Azoq escaped, and the next two arrows drove into the beast’s shoulder and jaw, driving the creature to the ground and to death.

A single handed victory for Douzane the Elf, against a foe five times stronger than he! Yet he couldn’t have done it without his team mates running around in a panic, generally distracting the beast. After that the team proceeded into the cave finding a series of caves and a host of treasure!! Thousands of copper and silver coins, gems and other arcane devices. Since the caves are clear now (for the time being), it might make an excellent place to camp and rest. Cheers all around for the heroic adventurers!

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Eastern Borders - A Deeper Delve
Dul's account of the trip into the Dwarven Mines

Once more, I decided to venture past the gates of this town with Kjeld the Cleric, and Duzain, the Elf who knows a little of everything. We acquired the services of two hired hands; Azok and Chin. Azok is an able-enough man, and Chin is a handsome beast of a woman who has obvious affections for our own Duzain. I guess they don’t call them “the fine-folk” for nothing.

After our recent enlightening but not exactly purse-filling trip out into the woods, all of our pockets were a bit lighter, so we decided to hit the mines this time around. If nothing else, we hoped to find something shiny to sell back in town.

On our trip down to the mines, we ran in to a bit of a kobold issue, so we had to take the long way, but eventually we made it without incident.

Navigating using Kjeld’s map we found ourselves deeper in the mines than I had been before, although Kjeld seemed to recall some of it from one of his previous adventures.

The first notable experience we had once we were deep in the mines, was a run in with a giant frog. Our group dispatched the frog with ease, and something compelled me to gather up it’s remains, as you never know when a very large and very dead amphibian may come in handy.

We wandered around for a bit and came across an opening. Everything about this opening was screaming “Ancient” to all of our senses. So of course, we dove in. Well, quickly we found traces that we were not the first group of adventurers to explore this ancient place. We came across a massive room with carved pillars, and three doors on the opposite end. The pillars had some terrifying carvings of Dwarven faces in agony. On one wall of this corridor we spotted an opening, that at first looked like it could have been caused by an explosion from a nearby room. We decided to take a look, and we found something none of us expected. After crawling through a small passage, we came into a somewhat spherical area with what appeared to be a cowering statue in the center. After a bit of investigation (I poked it with a stick, to the terror of my companions), I decided it didn’t pose a threat, but to make sure, I attempted to decapitate the statue as the rest of my party backed it’s way toward the entrance (to get a better position to help me in case of a fight I am sure). I fumbled a bit with my sword, touched the statue to brace myself, and a great stone creature reared up in front of my eyes. Duzain attempted to communicate, but his attempts proved futile for even he does not speak the language of giant rock monsters. We found the creature neither a threat or a source of information, so we moved along.

We headed back to the main corridor, to investigate the three doors. Kjeld recalled that one of these doors may have been successfully opened on a previous trip of his, so we first decided to focus on the other two. While attempting to open doors, we were confronted by a few shambling undead Dwarves led by what appeared to be a spherical automaton, possibly crafted by these dwarves when blood still ran through their veins. After the scuffle, Duzain’s best attempts at picking locks were met with failure, so we pushed through the previously unlocked door.

We came through a room slightly illuminated by glowing runes. We recognized them as being Dwarven, but the shapes meant nothing to any of us (my life as a ranger has never compelled me to study the old dead languages, but at times like these I would seriously consider trading my tree-climbing abilities for a bit of old knowledge). We moved along, dealt with a few more undead Dwarves and another of their spheres and eventually came to the climax of this little adventure. We came upon a statue (and this time around we were fairly certain it was just a statue). This statue seemed to beckon us, like it was asking for something. I can’t reveal all of my secrets here, dear reader, but let’s just say the statue and I made a fair trade, and I found my something shiny to leave these mines with.

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Eastern Borders - Three Days in the Wilderness, and Living to Tell the Tale

After several days of rest, I joined up with Dul the ranger and my faithful comrade Izil to explore the Dalewoods a bit further. We intentionally planned a wilderness journey, and consequently we had to pay more for our hirelings. Anya joined on as a full party member, but her two swordsmen demanded 2 gold pieces per day to accompany us. This fee is rapidly becoming untenable, and in the future we may have to curtail our adventuring if and when we cannot muster a large party.

In any case, we set off traveling in a roughly southeastern direction, slicing through the Dalewoods at an angle (judging, at least, by the crudely carved map in the Mug & Pot Inn. We traveled for most of a day, encountering no threat but stumbling across a queer area of burnt trees and grass, almost perfectly square. My priestly powers could find no trace of evil, but the place disturbed us nonetheless. We stopped to camp near dusk. The weather was foul, but we were able to find shelter in a burrow—only after we slaughtered the giant rats that occupied it.

Thus provisioned, we camped in relative comfort. During the night we heard a party of horsemen moving along the wayfarers’ road to the north, and only then did we realize how close we were to the wilderness road. Dul the ranger shadowed the travelers for a time, and was able to determine that they hailed from Enonia. We wisely decided to let the horsemen pass, and we heard them later that night as they returned from their mysterious errand. They were no doubt accomplished adventurers, able to navigate the Dalewoods in the dead of night and return unmolested.

The next day we explored the burnt wasteland in more detail. It was roughly 100 yards across, but we found no obvious clue to its origin. We decided to head due south, pushing deeper into the Dalewoods in search of a mysterious lake we’d heard of in rumors.

That day’s exploration was hampered again by snow and wet weather, and we camped overnight without kindling a fire. Two of our party were affected by odd dreams, but I myself was mercifully safe, owing perhaps to the blessing of Vanir which accompanies me at all times.

On day 3 of our wilderness journey, we stumbled—quite literally—across the Abandoned Mines that have figured into our recent explorations. We decided on the spot to delve into the stone tunnels in search of some as-yet-unlooked-for loot. This was not to be, but we did encounter and lay waste to 16 kobold skeletons—animated by some foul magic that could not stand against the might and fury of Vanir.

We found no treasure, but we survived three days in the unforgiving wilderness before returning to Enonia.

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Eastern Borders - Kjeld's Foray into the Abandoned Mines

Somehow this damnable wilderness continues to attract outsiders from across the realm, despite its horrific mortality rate. I joined a new adventuring troupe this week in an attempt to plumb the depths of the Dwarven mines. Prior to the expedition’s departure, we hashed over the recent news about the marshal’s parlay with the goblin king out by the abandoned monastery. It held little significance for us, as we were all fairly new to the eastern wilderness, so we made plans to head out to the mines at first light.

During our preparations, we found a companion in Anya, a fighting-woman of considerable renown in Enonia. She hinted obliquely at some previous expeditions she’d been part of that had only marginal success in the mines; we were determined to secure even greater wealth for our fledgling party.

Alas, it was not to be. We found the mines without incident, following a route that was by now familiar to both me and Anya. But a party of kobolds harried us as we plunged into a new, as-yet-unexplored entrance.

Once inside the cool stone dungeon, we set to work exploring the ruins. We fought several different types of dungeon vermin, and our littleling druid surprised everyone by charming a huge carnivorous black beetle, eventually taming the beast to serve as his gallant steed. The layout of this portion of the tunnels indicated that we were close to the mines themselves; we found a room full of digging tools and assorted equipment.

We encountered several traps, and these bled the party of its much-needed resources. The time we spent dealing with them no doubt alerted the dungeon’s denizens to our presence, and our progress was further retarded with subsequent encounters. I myself took a bad spill in a pit trap, injuring my holy person mightily. At that point, running low on critical supplies, we decided to head back to town.

Our return trip brought us into the clutches of the same kobolds that had stalked us earlier in the day. This time, confrontation was inevitable, and we clashed with them in a flurry of sword blows, hammer falls and sling shots. We triumphed and continued our journey home to Enonia, having secured the equivalent of 1.02 gold pieces in assorted copper coins—hardly enough to pay for our two hirelings, who had demanded 10 gold pieces each before accompanying us into the wilderness.

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Eastern Borders - Mazlor's Adventure Log for Year 55, 15th Day of Winter

After rousing a terribly hungover Ragnar, and engaging in a short debate, we chose to return to the Inn, in hopes of being able to finish our explorations there. In the end, however, our only progress towards that goal was to traverse 2/3 of the day-and-a-half’s journey.

During our night’s rest, we were beset by a band of goblins of the Green Iron Fist. Though our watches had time to wake everyone whilst they surrounded our camp, once we made to act, we discovered the true measure of our adversaries and found ourselves greatly outnumbered.

While some of our group (this scribe in particular) were prepared to concede the inevitable and parley with our foes, others were unwilling to give way without a fight. In the erupting hostilities, both of our wizards were felled and similar for twice that number in goblins. Nonetheless, their 4 to 1 advantage ground us down and the goblins ultimately prevailed. Our only consolation was that we were able to hold Death from overtaking Parabellum and Ethal.

The victorious goblins were unusually disciplined and peopled with leaders. The main of these spoke to us and – rather than ordering the robbery, slavery, or beheadings we envisioned – merely demanded we deliver a message. Grimthack, chieftain of the Green Iron Fist, required a meeting with the leader of the humans, one fortnight from now.

We promptly returned home and delivered Grimthack’s message to Yinivax and Marshall Roen. These entrusted us with the advance scouting of the meeting site (being the abandoned monastery of St. Eggix), which we commenced, after a suitable recovery period for our pair of wounded comrades.

There we found an unpleasant fog clinging low to the ground and signs of great battle – a battle of goblin against goblin. Half of the slain were of the more typical strain of goblin and festooned with the insignia of the Green Iron Fist. The other half were quite unusual – reddish in skin and feral of feature, armed with crude weapons and wearing the 3-fingered medallions.

We returned to Enonia again to report this development and were tasked with the recovery of bodies for study. This was accomplished with no difficulty and we returned yet again, well compensated for all of our recent efforts on Enonia’s behalf. (2nd in command at the temple) found the proto-goblins most peculiar and beyond her usual powers of divination. We were also visited by Asgrim, a local bookseller and hedge wizard, unknown to me, but not to certain of my comrades. Parabellum negotiated some dealings with him, involving a tome of St Eggix and other sundry items.

Our final trip to the monastery was a half-day in advance of the Meeting. We encountered some advance guard of Grimthack and found all to be in order. Roen and Grimthack arrived, with their respective retinues, and then conversed, with Aramin providing translation. The thrust of Grimthack’s concerns were that he wished humans to know that he controlled not the feral goblins, and wanted not to be blamed for their depredations. This was readily acknowledged, and our side further verified that Grimthack would have no complaints with us reclaiming the monastery for humanity.

As both sides returned to their own lands, we remained behind, augmented by a handful of the Marshall’s foot soldiers, ready to enter the monastery once more. Our destination was the former living quarters Melkrit, beheaded, evil ex-priest of the Light. Finding a slight error in our drawings, we inadvertently entered a collapsed and empty room, where I sensed a good and familiar energy drawing me near. I followed and passed through to a beautiful devotional room of St Eggix, with frescoes and a glowing bowl. Touching and making offerings to the bowl produced no discernable outcome, but examining an old skeleton yielded an iron key. When we did reach the room we sought, the key was indeed a match for the warded and locked door. The merits and risks of opening the door were contemplated. Eggix had used the monastery to seal up a great evil and we feared we might release it. Yet, it would also seem that an evil force was already awake and operating – that of the 3 figured symbol and its devil-goblins. We ultimately declined to act at this time.

We explored a bit elsewhere, resulting chiefly in the deaths of some spiders, the acquisition of a few potions, and the knowledge that our makeshift barrier over the floor crevasse appeared undisturbed. A foully inhabited chapel sent us retreating home for nonce, vowing soon to return and right that wrong (and mayhap fulfill my vision of reclaiming the fountain as well!).

Mazlor, beacon of the Light

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Eastern Borders - Mazlor's Adventure Log for Year 55, 39th Day of Fall

On this day began my second foray into the unknown, since I had been assigned by the church to Enonia from my home in the civilized lands to the West. I attempt to recollect and record here those events, to the best of my ability, however degraded and disjointed my memories may be at this later date.

We had a robust company roughly half-score strong and we decided the subject of our attention should be the long-abandoned Dalewoods Inn. As humanity had not ventured there in quite some time, an understandable preponderance of contradictory rumors existed in the fanciful imaginations of locals, ignorant of any true knowledge of its state – dragons, bandits, ruins, rebuilding, and other such. A perfect opportunity to extend humanity’s reach and knowledge!

On our journey, we encountered fleeting impressions of observation and laughter from small creatures we presumed of a fey nature. Fortune had them leave us be, though such would not be the case with the next creatures we met. During the night, we were attacked by large spiders, under whose lair we had unwisely camped. We prevailed against them, although some of our number were bitten and became quite ill.

The following day we reached the Inn, and found it in a state of collapse. Finding cellar-stairs, we were able to access some of its underground, which I will briefly summarize the exploration thereof:

Territorial glow-beetles attacked and were vanquished.

A butcher’s room contained haunches of meat, which sprang to life and combusted into goo upon death.

Some starving goblins were found, and we provided them sustenance whilst siphoning information about the Green Iron Fist from them. They claimed to have fallen in and become trapped below. We sent them out the way we had come.

A secret room with bags of precious metal was found.

An alcove-riddled corridor hid away viscous traps and a secret passage to another treasure room – this one containing iron chests and a glowing sword.

Large spiders blocked our way back out the stairs, so we barricaded ourselves in for the night, and departed unhindered, but most heavily laden, in the morn.

On our return trip, we discovered our previous assumptions about the tiny laughers were quite in error. In actuality, they were the juvenile offspring of the Bridge Troll. Our discourse with them was initially cool, but eventually thawed, and we left them on good terms and gifted them with tin whistles. For their part, they informed us that their father was quite angry and that we had best continue to give the bridge wide berth, as we had on the outwards portion of our sojurn.

The town guards were suitably impressed when we shared knowledge of the Inn with them. Additionally, we are no longer being taxed upon the fruits of our labors.

Mazlor, beacon of the Light

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