Sunday, Sarenith 24, 4712; Sandpoint; evening

Ivan and I explored the watery portions of the skeleton cave while the others discussed what to do with the loot, and whether to return to Sandpoint first and explore the remaining “X” later, or do that now.

We plunked a lot of glowing rocks into the water, but only found some mats of slimy black algae, some silt, and a lot of mud.

Meanwhile the others had decided to go straight to the third “X” from here, which was fine with me.

I led the way along the Witch’s Walk toward the coast, pointing out the odd talon-like prints we had seen on the way to the Warden’s place two days earlier.

Presently we came upon a clearing in the undergrowth, in the middle of which squatted a dilapidated hut and a tumble down shack nearby. The ground was covered in large rodent tracks, which greatly excited my friends, and so I quickly walked up to the door and, mindful of my team mates reaction to my abrupt entrance at the Warden’s, knocked.

There was no response, which was not a surprise. The walls were warping with wet and mildew, and the roof shingles were practically being pried off by thick mounds of moss.

Listening at the door I heard the sound of several large things skittering about within, and I cautiously opened the door.

Etayne was next to me, and after peering into the darkness for a moment, she rushed in and I followed.

It was clear the place had not been occupied in some years. Fungal growths sprouted out from the walls at disturbing angles and very large rat droppings squished underfoot. The place reeked of mold and ammonia, and our eyes watered.

I tossed in a few pieces of ration and softly called out, thinking it was better to make allies than enemies. Unfortunately not everything shares this sentiment, and a pair of giant rats barged into the room.

I reduced this pair to paste, but more charged in. Etayne skewered another two with her spear, Radella shot one through the door, and Ana charged in and killed it.

We then began to explore. To the north was a laboratory of sorts — Etayne was quite excited about it. Apparently the witch really was a witch, like Etayne, and the she found the lab quite fascinating.

A humanoid skeleton lay slumped across the work bench — its head was elongated like a bird’s, and one of its hands ended in talons. Etayne shook her head and said it looked as if the witch’s days ended with an experiment gone horribly wrong.

I moved to the southern room, where the roof had failed and a rosette of sickly hued fungus bloomed to an enormous size. Long slender tendrils of flabby flesh had sprouted from its center and waved about obscenely, casting off clouds of spores.

I cast Detect Magic, and although nothing in this room registered, I caught a gleam of something to the north. Following it I noticed a small crevice in a corner of the lab, and peering within I saw a tiny human face peering back out at me.

It was the size of a (normal) rat, but had a human face and tiny human hands, in which it grasped a tiny little dagger. It glared out from its hidey hole with glowering malice.

It was adorable!

“It’s a ratling!”, Etayne exclaimed. “Witch’s often use them as familiars — I wonder what languages this one understands?”

“I understand Common perfectly well, thank you!” It peeped in a shrill squeaky voice. “Leave!”

Aw, This was too much. I immediately set about trying to befriend it. I told it how much I enjoyed the company of rodents and introduced him to my friends.

“Please to make your acquaintance!” Piped Huffy, and the others joined in with equally heart-felt helloes.

But somehow our efforts went horribly wrong as the ratling, glaring with open hostility at me and my string of mouse skulls, screamed “Defend the mistress!” before leaping onto my head.

“Well, really!” huffed Timber.

Etayne cast Daze upon it, and Olmas grabbed it and held it firmly in his hands.

It bristled and fumed, but Etayne managed to calm it down. In the end I had to leave the room in order for it to speak politely with them. The rejection of my offered friendship stung, and so I sat on the door step trying to think of a way to help our new found friend and maybe gain its trust.

I went back into the lab and asked it, “Would you like us to bury your mistress?”

It was quite enthusiastic about this offer, and so we took her remains from the lab and buried them outside, near a shrub she had apparently favored.

After that the ratling seemed to tolerate my presence, and became even more gracious when Ivan gave it a crystal he had pried off the island in the cave.

The ratling had a highly detailed map of the swamp, which we copied, and he said he had been to the ship wreck marked by our target “X” with his mistress, and there was little there to see but rotting timbers.

We said our farewells and tromped on across the increasingly squishy ground until we came upon the wreck. The ratling had been spot on in its description, and other than the name (in Tien), and we gained nothing new from our visit.

Kali reminded us that we had not searched the entire goblin fort, and so we made a detour and returned to their stronghold. The smell had not improved much since our last visit, but we did discover a few more gold coins and sky rockets hidden in an abandoned room.

  [124] 3 sky rockets
  23 gold coins

We began the trek back to Sandpoint, and were nearly out of the swamp when we heard a squeal of some unfortunate small animal from the underbrush to our right, followed by the sound of something munching on bones. We paused and a moment later and a hideous humanoid creature sprang out and charged us. Its arms and legs ended in sharp talons, and its joints were hinged opposite from normal.

It lunged at Ana, but missed, giving Olmas a chance to make a solid hit. Kali tried a Color Spray, to no affect, but Ana hacked at it until it dropped, twitching on the ground.

None of us had seen anything like it before, although there were tales back in town about an infestation of such things. We decided to take the corpse back to Sandpoint to see what the sheriff could make of it.

Hemlock was thrilled with our results, and paid us the promised reward for the goblin ears and the head of the goblin chief. He paid another bounty for the body of the creature we killed, saying it was known as a Sinspawn, and it was well worth the bounty to be rid of it.

Kali and some of the others returned to the Rusty Dragon to find Ameiko and tell her about the Tien treasures we had found, plus the letter. She was quite taken with the letter, and said we could keep everything else. She then invited us all to return later on for dinner. Great, another bath.

I had gone in search of Shalelu to fill her in on all we had seen and done in the swamp, but she was away, as usual. One of the town guards said she would be back by nightfall, and so I rejoined my team mates at the Dragon.

We brought out all of the loot we had found and decided what to keep and what to sell, and hauled off the latter items to the local merchants to do the necessary.

We each had earned quite a substantial amount of gold, and spent no small amount of time talking of how to best spend it.

For me it was easy: most would be saved for my “travel fund,” although I did splurge and upgraded my heavy flail. Later on, as I painted the spiked ball with the grinning skull image favored by Groetus, I wondered if I had enough gold to set out on my voyage. Exactly where I would go I had yet to decide.

Dinner was in a private room at the Rusty Dragon, and much to my delight, after fussing about with my clothes and hair, Kali said I did not need a bath.

Shalelu was there, as were Koya (one of the town’s clerics) and Sandru (a caravan owner who had past ties with Ameiko).

Ameiko herself was agitated, but in an excited and good sort of way. The mysterious long lost letter from her grandfather to her father, and the mention of a lost family heritage at Brinewall had given her an excuse to get back on the road and go adventuring again.

Some years earlier, Ameiko and Sandru and others had set off on a quest, and returned with a small fortune. Ameiko had used her share to buy the Rusty Dragon, and to the surprise of many settled down. I had wondered how anyone could go from a life of high adventure on the road to a sedate life in a small town so quickly. It was obvious that this decision had begun to chafe over the years.

Ameiko hired Sandru and his caravan before the evening was done, and Koya was even caught up in the spirit and stated she was coming along as well.

Shalelu sighed and said she had better accompany the caravan too, because they would need a competent scout.

Wait, what? My mind immediately raced ahead: Brinewall was up past Riddlesport, a large seaport third only to Korvosa and Magnimar in size and activity. It would make an excellent place to launch a journey. I could help out with the caravan all the way to Brinewall, and then stop at Riddlesport as the others returned to Sandpoint and find a ship to… somewhere. And I’d be able to accompany Shalelu on one last grand tour.

It appeared that each of my team mates had their own reasons for coming along, and we made plans until the wee hours of the morning.

The details involved in properly outfitting and maintaining a caravan were staggering. Sure, anyone with a wagon can set out on the roads to trade, but chances for success dwindled geometrically in relation to the distance traveled and time spent away from civilization.

I remembered many of the fundamentals of caravan travel from my childhood, but Kali had the best grasp on what needed to be done, and how best to organize the effort to get Sandru’s caravan updated to handle all of us in the most efficient way possible.

Pookie, an old hand at travel by caravan, was in quite a state of excitement as she squeaked out little bits of advice during our impromptu planning session, many of which I passed along to Kali.

Moonday, Sarenith 25, 4712; Sandpoint; evening

My friends and I awoke with the sun, despite having been up late the night before, and quickly made our way out from our make shift home to find the others.

Kali was already out talking with Sandru and the local wainwright. The caravan upgrades we wanted did not come cheap, and even with Ameiko’s substantial investment, there was not enough gold to pay for everything.

I volunteered five hundred gold of my own, but Olmas came over and whispered in my ear, “Didn’t we find some expensive gem stones in the swamp?”

“Oh, right!” I was embarrassed to have forgotten, and quickly opened a side pouch in my pack. Sure enough, the value of the stones was more than enough to cover our remaining caravan costs.

Oskar the wagonwright said the work would take a week, and so we had some time to kill before we would leave.

I thought ahead to when I would leave the caravan and say goodbye to Shalelu, possibly for the last time, and then remembered the badger pelt.

Years before when Shalelu and I were patrolling the woods to the west we came across the body of a badger with its leg caught in a snare. Shalelu looked at the trap with disgust and said such things were the sign of a cruel heart.

I freed the badger’s leg from the snare and angrily bashed the latter with a rock. I picked up the body and remarked, “No one shall profit from this misdeed.”

“And yet it would be a shame to waste what the poor animal has given with such suffering.” Shalelu replied.

Later that day I had skinned the badger, leaving the rest of its body for the woodland creatures to use as they could, and preserved the pelt.

I thought now of the badger pelt, and returned to the burned out remains of the warehouse that served as my home in Sandpoint. I knew of a skilled leather-smith in town, and he said he could make what I had in mind for the pelt, and that it would be ready before the caravan was ready to leave.

Sunday, Erastus 1, 4712; Sandpoint; evening

I returned from Magnimar this morning. It turns out Kali had also made a quick trip to the city to tell her folks about our upcoming journey. Had I known, we could have traveled together… but then we’re about to spend a lot of time together, and maybe she needed this time on her own.

My reason for coming back was less clear. I had left abruptly in mid Gozran, and there were a few people who might appreciate it if I said farewell. This only occurred to me from watching Kali and the others make their own preparations for our departure.

I have a hard time guessing what people would want or expect of me, and the most comfortable option has usually been to avoid people altogether.

My fellow followers of the “Sign of the Destroyer” would have guessed that I was gone by now and I saw no need to hunt them down, shy and reclusive as they were.

I walked toward my old place at Rag’s End in dim glow of the pre-dawn hour, but was brought up short well before that by a familiar aroma. The enticing moist yeasty smell of baking bread wafted out from a nearby building. A quick glance at the sign and it was clear my feet knew where I needed to go long before I had realized it.

I went around back and passed through an open door into a vast room. The kitchen of The Angry Gnome was just as I remembered it: a vast series of brick ovens set into one wall, and opposite them a long wooden counter, where white clad workers kneaded mounds of pliant bread dough. Little puffs of white dust occasionally erupted into the aisle as an apprentice overestimated the amount of flour needed.

And there he was at the far side of the kitchen with his back to me, Jaques Letrand, probably the most famous baker in all of Varisia, quietly working on some specialty of his own.

Master of his lair, he quickly detected a change in the mood of the kitchen as I entered and turned around.

“Qatana! I heard you had left, and without even saying goodbye.”

“Um, yeah. Goodbye,” I managed to stammer.

“Humph,” he grunted, “come over here and see what you can do with this.”

He was working on the top of a filled pastry, and was placing different strands of dough across the top in an intricate weave. He stepped aside and gestured for me to take over. I remembered the pattern, and completed the work, adding my own little flourish to the design.

“You were always a gifted student, although you spent less time working the counter than you should,” he said waving toward the line of apprentices.

“I had things I needed to do — winters here are cold and unforgiving, and many people were hungry.”

“And so you started the Rag’s End kitchen. Yes, I knew of it! And you were not even a fully qualified baker. Some people in the kitchen had unkind things to say,” and here he shot a glance at his sous chef, Andre, glaring at me from around a corner, “but I visited your kitchen, and while the fare was simple, it was worthy of you and your teacher.”

He sniffed loudly and said, “Wait here.” before disappearing into a store room.

A moment later he was back and handed me a toque. I looked at it stupidly before realizing my name had been embroidered across the band.

“This I had meant to give you some months ago, but you had gone. You are a baker. Go now and make something of yourself.”

I could think of nothing to say. Shelalu had been the only one since… since my parents had died who had shown me such kindness. I gave Jaques an awkward hug and left.

Settling back into my quarters in Sandpoint I looked gratefully at the chef’s hat, and then pulled out the baking gear I had purchased for the journey. While there won’t be brick ovens, one could do much with the large lidded cast iron pots, commonly referred to as “Dwarf Ovens”, and I planned to help out with the cooking on the caravan.

Speaking of which, I had seen Kali a short while ago, and she said the caravan would be ready for us to leave in the morning, and I still had something I needed to do before then.

Shalelu was in the Rusty Dragon, as I had hoped, and I gave her the badger pelt quiver. She was delighted with the gift, and said she would save it for special occasions so it would not be damaged by everyday use.

Wealday, Erastus 4, 4712; Galduria; evening

We have been three days on the road. The weather has been splendid and we have made good progress. Galduria is a pleasant enough little city nestled on the edge of a large deep blue lake, and we managed to make a small profit trading some of the goods we brought from Sandpoint.

While it might seem like a counter intuitive thing to do, given that our caravan has a specific purpose of getting us all to Brinewall, the money made from trade pays for the required upkeep of our equipment, and pays the salaries of those we’ve had to hire.

In addition to helping out with the cooking, I primarily provide entertainment each evening around the camp fire. My friends and I have quite a collection of tales to share. The first night I regaled the camp with the “Mouse, the Witch and the Wardrobe”, and last night I told Beorn’s story about a halfling and thirteen dwarves who set out to reclaim treasure from a dragon.

Toilday, Erastus 10, 4712; Roderick’s Cove; evening

We passed through Wolf’s Ear and Ravenmoor after Galduria, but these towns were small and hardly note worthy. It is hard to believe the great Heroes of Sandpoint spent any time at all in either of these two places, and yet Takkad’s journal (of which I purchased a copy at the Sandpoint Pathfinder Society) made both sound like places of intrigue and menace.

We did, however, have a bit of excitement a few hours out from Roderick’s Cove.  A quartet of ogres had set up an ambush near the road, but our scouts were able to spot them without being spotted themselves, and we managed to turn the tables on the would be brigands.

Still, the fight did not go as well as it might have. Olmas charged into the ogres on his horse, but we had not actually planned for an assault, and so it was some time before anyone was able to come to his aid. He looked fairly beat up before Etayne moved in to help.

This was my first combat where I participated from a distance, and while some of what I did was effective, clearly my contributions to these sorts of encounters work best from closer in.

The ogres were all slain, and we found their camp where they had collected valuables taken from not so fortunate traders. Kali said that we need to purchase a new wagon in Riddlesport, and this unexpected windfall will pay for it.

We dragged the ogre bodies with us into Roderick’s Cove — a nice harbor town, much like Sandpoint — and the locals appreciated our efforts toward keeping the road safe. We did very well in trade.

Oathday, Erastus 12, 4712; Riddlesport; evening

Finally! Riddlesport has not disappointed me. It has a fine large harbor and is a hub of activity. The city is divided into a savory (where we are) and unsavory side, and I’ll need to take care when we return and I look to find safe passage to elsewhere.

Riddlesport is also an important enough trading center to have a well stocked wainwright’s, who sold us a sturdy wagon that fits our needs.

We leave for Brinewall in the morning, and Riddlesport is to be our last chance to enjoy civilization for more than a week.

Toilday, Erastus 17, 4712; outside Brinewall; evening

Something is wrong with Ameiko. We had been making good progress, and then a few days ago she collapsed. Others have said that she looked pale and tired throughout the day, but she had brushed aside their concerns.

Koya, Etayne and I have all examined Ameiko, looking for symptoms of known illnesses or signs of venomous bites, but have found nothing.

Whatever it is, we three feel that it is not natural and is the result of something in Brinewall reaching out to her. We discussed turning back in the hope that she would recover, but if she did not we would have wasted time back tracking. And so we decided to press on with all due haste.

Ameiko then began to speak in Tien, which only Kali has learned enough of to translate, and so she now spends as much time with Ameiko as possible.

And what Ameiko has been saying does not sound like Ameiko, or even the fevered ravings of the sick. It sounds more like prophecy, and Kali has passed on what she has heard to the rest of us.

  Beware the birds that wish to fly but cannot.

  One treasure beyond two seals in the third vault.

  Beware the cuckolded cuckoo. It is in his shattered, silent love you should seek aide.

  The key you seek lies in the grip of the ten-handed one. His fear is your greatest ally.

  Grandfather waits in the dark, but he knows not who he was.

We have gone over these sayings, trying to glean some meaning from them that might prove useful, but the only thing that seems for certain is the somber realization that “grandfather” has been turned into some undead fiend, and that we will need to confront him before Ameiko will be well.

I have been especially busy, with no time to write. Ameiko had been our primary cook, a duty which I know perform on my own in addition to helping watch over Ameiko and providing what little entertainment folks are in the mood for these evenings.

We watched Brinewall approach throughout the day, for that is what it felt like. A dark smudge on the horizon growing ever larger until we could make out walls and towers. And as these details became clearer and clearer, so too the feeling of oppressive brooding grew.

The main road, for once the two tracks we have been following since Riddlesport once were, pulled to within half a mile of the fortress where a small track led off toward Brinewall.

The wagons cannot travel along the narrow track, and so the Brinestump Marsh crew have decided to head in on our own in the morning. We will leave Ameiko in the care of Koya with Shalelu and Sandru (and his staff) standing guard.