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