Wealday, Erastus 18, 4712 evening
Brinewall Cemetery

After our encounter with the bat we explored the eastern battlements where Radella found a secret door leading into the armory. Where to go next?

There were several stairways leading down to the main level, and one leading up in the large tower. Up seemed like the better option (there could only be so much up, whereas down presented us with the entire castle plus whatever lay beneath), and so I led the way back to the tower and up the stairs.

The top of the tower was a library, with shelves lining the wall and a door leading out to a small balcony. Sitting in a large nest off to one side was a harpy. She had been perusing a book, which lay open before her, as I entered, and although startled, she looked more curious than menacing, and smelled oddly of washed linen and ashes.

She beckoned for me to approach, and remembering the lessons on diplomacy from the Temple of Pharasma, I moved forward, and she reached out and touched my arm.

“Greetings, I am Zaiobe, and I can communicate in this way when we make physical contact.”

Her voice was soft like the wind through reeds, but she did not speak aloud — instead her words formed directly in my mind as she thought them. Telepathy!

She wanted to know who we were and why we were here, which, judging from the whispers of my friends on the stairway, was what we were keen to learn from her.

I explained that a friend was sick, and that we were sure the source of her illness resided in Brinewall Castle. We had volunteered to explore the castle and find and eliminate the cause of her affliction.

In turn, Zaiobe replied that she was an oracle, and had lived here for some time, but the castle was already occupied by the corbies when she arrived. She kept mostly to herself in the library, studying. It was clear she thought little of the bird-men, and seemed unaware (and unconcerned) of their reason for being here.

“However,” she replied coyly, there is a favor I would ask of you that could be to our mutual benefit. My lover, Kikonu, has become an insufferable boar, and I wish to be rid of him for good. He commands the corbies and appears to have some greater goal for being in the castle. Help me kill him and I shall leave you alone to do as you will in the castle so long as you leave me in peace.”

I asked what sort of being was Kikonu, and she replied that he was an outsider who took the form of a red skinned human with black wings, but he also could assume the shape of a giant raven with humanoid arms and legs.

“He sounds like a daemon,” I said thoughtfully. “Some call his kind that, yes,” she replied. “Where did he come from?” I asked.

“In far off Tien, when mothers wish to frighten their children into obedience, they speak of Kikonu. When the solitary traveler looks anxiously over his shoulder, it is Kikonu he fears to find. Many years ago he came here from his native land on some mission which he will not reveal even to me. He has dealings with those who dwell beneath the castle, and he organizes the corbies and other, equally offensive beings to guard the upper levels.”

“So was that his play in the room below?”

“Yes!” she spat out with obvious contempt and loathing. “This is what he has become. A weak minded fool who imagines himself the king of the corbies! Who but a dullard would even think of such a thing, must less desire it for himself? He spends all of his days writing that insipid play of his, and then organizing performances of the latest scenes with the corbies… and forcing me to watch. You can see why I must be rid of him, surely?”

“I can see how you would want him gone, but please don’t call me Shirley.” She didn’t get it.

I explained to my companions what Zaiobe had suggested, and we agreed to help her kill Kikonu (something we would clearly have to do on our own if we did not help). She suggested that we hide ourselves in the derelict inn just down the road from the castle gates. She would arrive after we were there, and call Kikonu to her. We would all attack once he entered.

And that is basically how it played out. We hid at the inn and Zaiobe arrived a short time later. She called Kikonu, and before too long we heard him walking up the road toward the inn. He had four corbies in tow, but he was the main threat.

He entered the inn, gushing about the latest scene he and the corbies had been rehearsing, and how she was really going to enjoy watching their performance.

He was in his bird form, and he was wielding a scythe at the end of a chain (which Kali later identified as a kusaragama). Ivan drew first blood with a shot using one of the evil outsider bane arrows we had found earlier. Sparna pressed the attack up close, taking a hit himself in the exchange.

“Beware my dear, there are enemies lurking here. Kill them!” he screamed.

Olmas charged in and contributed to his discomfort. The corbies began to enter the fray, but we were ready for them and I quickly cast Cause Fear on one, which fled. Etayne kept another corby at bay in the kitchen.

Zaiobe then shot Kikonu with a flaming burst arrow, which caught him by surprise. It suddenly dawned on him that she had lured him into a trap, and shaking with rage he shrieked, “You!” and teleported to her side.

We adjusted to his unexpected move, and the fighters charged in again. I channeled energy to heal my friends, while Kali Color Sprayed two corbies, who dropped.

And then quite unexpectedly, the remaining corby charged Olmas, dropping him to the ground. Radella returned the favor, and the corby also dropped.

Zaiobe clawed at Kikonu, who fell to the floor. Sparna removed Kikonu’s head while Ivan and Etayne took care of the unconscious corbies. I used a Cure Light Wounds spell to revive Olmas, who still required additional healing to set him to rights.

I asked Zaiobe if we could take Kikonu’s gear in payment for helping to slay him, and she agreed. But she had a queer look in her eye that made me feel uneasy. Kali picked up on this right away and suggested we haul Kikonu’s body outside and search it for valuables there.

[218] Dancing Wasp, +1 kusaragama: it makes a shrill whistling sound in
battle. Once per day the wielder can summon a giant wasp to follow
orders for as long as the kusaragama is kept swinging (max 5 rounds)
[219] small leather pouch
[220] 4 vials of ink
[221] 5 shiny pearls
[222] dark-wood and silver disk etched with an image of Brinewall with the
sun shining upon it (could not be identified: transmutation magic)

Zaiobe announced that she was returning to her rooms, and we told her we would meet her in the library the next morning. She flew off, and the arced gracefully around and began to shoot arrows at us.

This seemed so stupid and so short sighted that I did not understand it. We had just handily defeated Kikonu and four of his minions, and yet she thought to attack us on her own?

We scattered, with those capable of shooting ranged weapons doing so. I helped, but I am not very skilled with weapons of this sort, and my primary contribution was not shooting my friends.

Eventually, as predicted, Zaiobe’s arrow riddled body plunged to the ground with a bone crunching thump! We looted her body.

[223] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds (Sparna)
[224] potion of Cure Moderate Wounds (Radella)
[225] chain shirt
[226] +1 composite longbow (STR12) (Ivan)
[227] wood holy symbol of Pazuzu (wood)

We returned to the cemetery and met with Spivey. She happily healed Anna and Olmas, reading from a pair of tiny little scrolls. Kali sent Nihali back to the caravan with an update on what we had encountered.

Oathday, Erastus 19, 4712 mid day
Brinewall Castle

We returned to the castle early this morning and went directly to Zaiobe’s library. There we found a handful of interesting tomes, but of more immediate importance was a set of blueprints for Brinewall castle. Using these we could see that we had explored the entire upper tier, which left the main level and whatever lies beneath. Unfortunately other than showing a handful of tantalizing stairways leading down, the plans provide no clue as to what is below the ground level.

Following the tower stairs all of the way down we entered a tumble down room of broken furniture. As we descended the stench intensified, triggering a severe gag reflex in many of us. Moving stupidly about the room were a quartet of troglodytes. At least that explained the stench.

Those of us near the lead quickly rushed in to make room for the others still on the stairs. The trogs moved in and the bashing party began. One of them seemed to realize that they were out numbered and, opening a door, yelled for help (so I was later told by Kali, who speaks draconic). Soon they were all dead.

The door through which the troglodyte had yelled led to stairs heading down. A door to the west opened onto a ruined barracks in which a large lizard was kept. The lizard lunged at us and was killed.

To the northeast a door opened onto a room full of troglodytes. All of them were sleeping, making an awful racket and smell with their snores, burps, farts, and various other bodily emissions. We crept in, and by the time they realized they had unwelcome guests they were already well along the path towards death.

A large hall was beyond the final door out from the tower chamber. Columns supported a high ceiling, and a red carpet led from a pair of double doors to the southwest to a throne at the northeastern end. Oddly enough, fresh splashes of blood were splattered on the floor nearby.

I led the way across the hall to a small door, behind which was a hall with a door on either side. To the west was a washroom and latrine. To the east was a wide hall with columns supporting the ceiling. The ruins of cages lined the walls and a massive heap of rotting carcasses and refuse was piled up in the center. Perched atop this mound of carrion was a female ogre-kin, shoving fist fulls of rotting flesh into her mouth.

We ran in and placed ourselves around the dim witted creature. She blinked and looked about before cackling, “You has disturbed my dinner. Oh, but you has half-elvsies. They is not as tasty as elvsies, but halfsies is close enough!” She smacked her lips, belched and descended from her throne.

She died surprisingly quickly.

[223a] +1 flail
140gp (in a small sack with “rent” written on it)

We returned to the main hall and Radella opened the double doors to the lower level of the ballroom. Bloodstains (old, not like those we found in the hall) coated the walls, and the same deep gouges we had seen in the upstairs armory were here too.

As I was sketching the layout of the room it became clear that it was not symmetrical. The columns were not centered in the room, and consulting the blueprints it seems that budget cuts may have reduced the size of the room after construction had begun.

Stairs leading down were behind a small door to the west, and a pair of double doors were east. Through these were another pair of double doors directly ahead, and small doors to the north and south. The two smaller doors opened onto rubble strewn storage rooms, with another door in the far end of the room to the north.

Searching the rubble we found some useful items.

[224a] case with 20 masterwork cold iron arrows
5 Sparna
5 Ana
5 Radella
5 Olmas
[225a] +1 flaming burst arrow (wrapped in red silk) (Ivan)

I paused and listened at the double doors.

“Oh you are so pretty, but then I love elves — they have such a natural beauty about them. I do hope you will be happy here. Now let’s see, I have already introduced you to my half ogre and half orc…”

It sounded like an elf was being held captive, and so I swiftly opened the door and moved in. It was an oddly shaped long room, filled with all sorts of creatures and humanoids (including humans). But they were not living… and they had been altered in unusual ways and posed in bizarre positions.

Something very small and elf-like (but with twitching antennae) stood before me.

“Oh, hello. I am Buttersnips, the castle’s resident artist. What do you think of my work?” And here he… she… it waved its tiny little hands about, gesturing proudly at the monstrous examples of taxidermy. But worse was still to come.

“Now this elf, she is my most recent work, and she is a masterpiece! I am sure she appreciated how I transformed her. I take great pride in the fact that I keep all of my subjects alive as I work on them so they can see how beautiful I have made them. But the elf, well now, she really is something special, don’t you agree?”

That was all we needed to hear. Kali cleverly coated the thing in Glitterdust just before it moved like a blur to one side of the room and grabbed a sword. “I hate glitter!The fighter closed in and began to pummel the thing, which once again moved as a blur out and into the hall, but Ivan shot it with an arrow and it dropped.

[226a] 5 doses of spider venom (identified by Etayne)
[227a] short sword

Etayne said it was a quickling, and that we were very fortunate that Kali covered it with glitter or we would not have had a chance to see it (much less hit it) because they flitter about so fast.

Etayne and I next explored the outside area beyond the northern store room. There was a weedy courtyard that had at one time been a garden, and a murky pond slimed with algae. Etayne poked the water with her spear and a giant beetle clambered out. We wisely retreated back through the door, closing it behind us.

Those with ranged weapons raced up the ballroom stairway and out onto the wall, where they shot arrows at it. Olmas and I ran out and around to get to the door on the opposite side of the courtyard where we could attack the massive beetle from the other side. Olmas was anxious to join in and kept getting in my way. By the time I finally opened the other door, the bug had been slain.

The others joined us and we moved on to the circular chamber beneath the armory. Opposite the stairs from above were stairs leading down. This stairwell had been sealed off by a door, but the door lay in fragments.

A short hall was to the south with rooms off either side, each with its door hanging on its hinges. The west room was an office where another set of stairs came down from the upper level.

We heard something moaning in the eastern room, and quickly backed out as a shambling mockery of a man lumbered out after us. It wore a dragon shaped helm and the blood stained remains of half-plate — it was a wight. It bore a long sword but rather than swing it it simply reached out with boney fingers and touched me. A wave of cold ran through me emanating out from the spot where the wight had made contact, and I realized we needed to slay it quickly or face dire consequences. Another wight came out from the room, moaning as it advanced upon us.

Mercifully I was surrounded by friends, and we swiftly killed both wights.

[228] +1 long sword
[229] dragon helm
[330] pieces of half-plate

Kali recognized the helm as the traditional helmet of the captain of the guard at Brinewall Castle.

There was a desk in the room where the wights had been, and a number of interesting papers were in the desk. But the most interesting was a letter sitting on top of the desk: an account of the attack on the castle written on the very night of the attack, but unfinished.

Kali took great interest in these papers, and has been reading through them as I have been writing this entry. Apparently the corbies had attacked the castle before. In fact the castle itself may have been built upon and underground dwelling of corbies (and other creatures), who broke through some time before the final attack on the castle. They had been driven back into the depths and the hole sealed up, but it seems pretty clear to me that they returned, but now they were in the company of some powerful allies.

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.

Starday, Sarenith 23, 4712 Evening
Lost Coast Road

We had gathered before the pair of double doors in the goblin stronghold, and I could hear movement on the other side plus the small-rat-like-dog yipping noise that passes for goblin tongue. The curious smell of sulphur and carbon mixed unpleasantly with what I had already come to recognize as the stench of goblin body odor.

Etayne had dropped to the ground and crawled beneath the room, where she was able to look up and see at least half a dozen goblins. At the same time Kali had pronounced that there was some form of magic in the room.

Radella checked the doors, and as soon as she announced they were free from traps I smashed through just as I heard Ivan cast Bless.

There were eight goblins squished together in too little space. One was sitting in a baby’s high chair, which served as his throne, and was waving a spear in one hand and a rocket in the other. A semi-circle of seven “warriors” stood before him, wielding dog slicers and acting as little, but grim body guards.

Poorly preserved horse and dog heads were mounted on the walls, and small animals that had been pickled in jars lined shelves. It smelled as bad as it sounds.

One stumbled forward near me and I squashed it like a bug, but another nicked me with its blade. Radella shot another.

Sparna stepped through and deftly killed two. I cast Bane on the survivors and stepped out to make room for Olmas, who promptly skewered another.

The leader lit his rocket and it blasted forward, killing his remaining guards and blinding Radella and I.

A moment later, when I could see again, the leader was dead and Anavaru was cutting its head off. Apparently Kali had immobilized it with Color Spray, and then Olmas and Ana did the rest.

“A job well done,” squeaked Beorn.

Indeed it was, for we now head the head of the goblin leader, plus 42 freshly severed ears (including those from the leader), which by my calculations will bring us 920 gold pieces (115 for each of us).

We also gathered a handful of useful items:

[101] 5 +1 Animal Bane arrows
[102] 2 potions of cure light wounds (Sparna and Olmas)
[103] sky rocket
[104] 6 arrows
[105] master work composite longbow (STR +0)
[106] small chain shirt
[107] spear

There was a small and stinky “royal bed chamber” off to the east, but it was obvious that there must have been more beyond the southern wall.

Olmas created a new doorway for us, and we found a small room with a beautiful red lacquered chest with cranes and frogs painted on it. Someone identified it as from the Minkaui kingdom (Tien), and nested within its plush red velvet lining were:

[108] Minkaui red chest
[109] 6 master work shurikens
[110] long red hair pin with pearl at one end
[111] gold and ivory fan, with painting of a gecko walking on cherry blossoms

On the reverse side of the fan the goblins had crudely drawn a map of the swamp with three Xs marking areas of interest.

The nearest was on the coast straight from the fort, and so we made our way to Soggy Bay. Kali’s raven, Nihali, flew as scout overhead, but there was little to see through the undergrowth. We heard some unusual movement off to one side, but we made it to the water and hiked south towards the mark on the map.

Soon we could see a two masted Chelish ship that had run aground quite some time ago. Oddly enough the wreck was encircled by an old fence, and goblin prints littered the soft ground. A pile of mangled goblin bodies lay at the bow of the ship (some weeks old).

We explored the charred ship, which smelled of seaweed and charcoal, but other than the name, painted in Tien script, we found nothing of interest.

We returned to the goblin fort, picked up the chest, and then head back to the Lost Coast Road to more easily access the spot of the next nearest X.

Using a well established trail known as the “Witch’s Walk” we made our way back down into the swamp, and then followed the base of a rise south until we came to a cave. I had already noticed that the skeleton tracks from the fort followed our course, and they led into the cave.

The sun was setting and none of us wanted to face undead at night; so we returned to the road, and after setting up a handful of simple sound traps we made camp.

Sunday, Sarenith 24, 4712 Late Morning
Cave near Brinestump Marsh

Nothing triggered our make shift alarms, and nothing untoward occurred overnight, other than Pookie and Star making off color jokes about a slumber party. Seriously girls, grow up!

We quickly ate, broke camp, and made our way back to the cave entrance.

We had to hack through the nettles and vines, after which we entered the dark and damp earth. A pool of brackish water ran along the left side of the cave, and a track of skeleton prints was easy to see leading both in and out from within.

We huddled there for a moment listening to a disturbing clicking sound. I called out, “Oi, anybody in there?” and the clicking sound stopped. We cautiously backed out. A couple of large spiders (think dog sized) sprang out at us, but Sparna and Radella killed the first, and Anna and Ivan killed the second as it fled.

We moved in and saw that the pool cut off access through the main passage, but there was a small crack to the right from whence the spiders had come.

I followed this narrow passage which rejoined the main cavern where I waved at the others, but from behind I heard a splash followed by the sound of fighting.

Etayne and Sparna had followed through the narrow passage and could not resist exploring the even narrower crack that led deeper in. There they found a circular chamber filled with a pool of water, in the midst of which sat a tiny island of crystal.

Etayne had poked at the water with a spear, and the water poked back, striking Sparna. Some sort of amorphous blobby thing lived there, but Sparna managed to kill it.

We all assembled in the main cavern and followed it around a bend to a large chamber that stretched off in either direction. The pool of stagnant water extended left, and to the right was dry ground with perhaps a dozen skeletons lying on the ground.

We approached cautiously, but the things did not move. At least not until Olmas moved over to one and tried to remove its armor.

Really? Were they bothering us? Oh well, we would have probably made things worse had we just tried to wander past them.

Each of the skeletons stood up and began to advance on us, striking out as opportunity arose.

We were out numbered, and it was clear we needed to regroup into a more strategic formation, but it was already too late.

More skeletons arose from the water to our left, effectively removing any chance of retreat from our list of options. They closed in and things looked very bleak.

I spent most of my time healing in some fashion or another, but it was not enough. Several had closed in on me, and for a brief moment I thought I was about to die.

But then all of my little friends cried out, “No!” as one, and time seemed to stop and then reorganize itself around me. I found myself in possession of a cure spell I did not realize I had prepared, and with that cast I felt much better, and was able to channel more energy to help my comrades.

We were victorious, and had all survived, but only barely. Thanks to my friends we had been saved from more grievous results. Timber sarcastically remarked, “Try not to let that become a habit.” I could only concur.

While the skeletons were clad in armor, it was rusted and rent and not worth the effort of trying to salvage, and so instead we turned our attention to the other tunnel leading out.

We found that it opened up to a good sized cavern that then narrowed down to a crack at the far side. Sitting in the middle of this was a skeleton more finely dressed than his companions that we had fought. And it was sitting on a large jade and cherry chest, in the same style as the small chest we found with the goblins.

It wore a chain shirt and was armed with an exotic sword that glowed with magic.

Etayne and I threw stones at it, and she called out, “Are you awake?”

It rose up and pointed at Olmas with a boney finger and spoke in an unknown (to us) tongue. It then hefted its sword and strode towards him.

This was all we let it do before pouncing upon it from all sides and destroying it.

Unlike its brethren, this skeleton had an interesting assortment of loot, which we liberated.

[112] +1 exotic sword etched with seven shrikes perched upon a twisted twig
Once per day the wielder can cast Shield Other on any creaturetouched
[113] bronze key
[114] chest lined with red velvet
[115] 5 potions of Cure Light Wounds
[116] 2 potions of Cure Moderate Wounds
[117] 3 potions of Lesser Restoration
[118] wand of Identify [19 charges]
[119] master work chain mail shirt
[120] master work cold iron exotic sword
[121] 11 fireworks, “Desna’s Candles”
[122] 4 sky rockets
[123] ring of climbing

842 gold pieces
7,140 silver pieces

While handling the sword to identify it, we noticed that the pommel hid a small scroll case, and within it was a letter, but in Tien, which none of us could read.

Ever resourceful, Kali cast Comprehend Languages and read the letter. It was addressed to Ameiko’s father (who had died some years ago in a bizarre accident at the glassworks) from his father, and it hinted at some long hidden family history and heritage.

The shipwreck we had encountered, The Keijitsu Star (according to Kali) had been intended to bring this letter and various family heirlooms to Ameiko’s family, but had obviously failed to do so. The letter also alluded to a much larger collection of family wealth and secret information hidden away in a place called Brinewall.

None of us were sure where Brinewall was, but we all agreed that Ameiko should be given the letter.

There is a discussion going on about whether the Tien items we have found thus far should be returned as well, but I have no great interest in its outcome.

Foremost on my mind is what could be out at the third and final X marked on the goblin map, and if we should head over there today, or return to Sandpoint first and find Ameiko.

Fireday, Sarenith 22, 4712 Sunset
Brinestump Marsh

Two months in Sandpoint and I was still unsure what to do with my life. I was certain I needed to get away… far away. But there was the matter of picking a destination.

Huffy helpfully suggested, “Ask Kali — she’s been all over this part of the world.”

Of course, Kali! She came from some exotic lands far, far away, and has been to other places equally foreign. And like me she had recently returned from Magnimar, although we had only briefly chatted since.

Lately she had taken to hanging out at the Rusty Dragon, Sandpoint’s defacto hang out for travellers and other restless folk. Perhaps she too was looking for a change — when we spoke earlier she had mentioned the need to get away, but I did not think it meant anything more than a visit to the outhouse.

“You! Bath. Now.”

This is Ameiko’s usual greeting for me whenever I enter the Rusty Dragon, although for the life of me I cannot figure out why.

While I was in the bath house Ameiko had someone wash my clothes, and so some time later, reeking of soap and — lavender? — I was finally granted admittance to the common room.

Kali was there deep in conversation with a handful of common acquaintances.

“Yes, they have reinstated the bounty on goblin ears.”

“It’s the Licktoads — they got a hold of fireworks and are terrorizing travel and trade along the Lost Coast Road between here and Magnimar.”

“I heard they’ve actually killed some people.”

“Why the hell did they cancel the bounty? Goblins are like rats: if you let them breed unmolested you’ll have an infestation.”

“A few years back some teenagers went out to collect goblin ears for the bounty and their bodies were found days later. Parents complained.”

“I guess the latest acts of aggression have changed the mayor’s and sheriff’s mind and they are offering 10 gold pieces per goblin ear, and 500 for the head of the Licktoad chief.”

“Yeah, and some fools ran off a few days ago to deal with the goblins, but they never returned.”

“Unprepared.”

“Too few.”

“Inexperienced.”

And that’s when it occurred to me: travel is expensive, and my future plans called for a lot of travel. The goblin bounty would be a great way to quickly earn enough gold to get started.

Obviously I could not go alone: that would be foolish and I’d end up as dead as those unfortunates who set out a few days before.

Sitting around me in various knots of conversations were (mostly) familiar people who boasted a variety of skills that would be useful.

I interrupted Kali’s group and carefully explained my idea of forming a band to slay the marauding goblins and collect the bounties, and asked who would like to participate.

Right away I got seven people who were interested, and they began to discuss what sort of supplies and equipment we might need in the swamp. Machetes, scythes, water proof boots, water proof pants, hey how about a boat, should I bring my horse — wait, what? This organizing by committee was rapidly getting out of hand.

Fortunately Ameiko had kept an ear cocked to our disorganized attempts at planning a campaign and stepped in to offer assistance.

“Before you take off into the marsh, each of you should describe your abilities and discuss tactics you are likely to use when facing foes.”

Before the conversation fell to a discussion on who should start, and if someone should take notes, and whether we had the right type of paper or ink with which to record the events, I introduced myself.

“I’m Qatana. I wield a heavy flail and cause foes to be less competent. Oh, and I can heal… or end suffering — whichever seems more appropriate.”

I then pointed to Kali, who introduced herself and explained her mastery of arcane magics. She also had a bird who could act as a scout. When did she pick up a bird? Cardamom and cloves.

I then nodded to Olmas, whom I knew through Shalelu, albeit not well, “I go by Olmas, and wield a great ax. I prefer mounted combat.” Ah, that explained the request to bring a horse. Grass and horse sweat.

I had run across Ivan out hunting in the woods around Sandpoint years ago, but he vanished a while back. I was surprised to see him. “I’m Ivan, and I use a bow and can offer healing and guidance.” Smoke and brimstone.

Next I pointed to an unfamiliar dwarf heavily armored like a soldier. “Sparna. I use this.” He pulled out a massive pike, which instantly put him in my good graces. Oiled metal and stale beer.

“I am Anavaru and I hunt and usually fight with ranged weapons, and like Olmas I travel with a horse.” Right. A “horse.” Everyone in Sandpoint knew about her horse. Leather and camel dung.

Next was a woman I did not recognize. “I am called Radella. I wield a sword, and I am very observant and quite good with my hands. You might find me helpful in detecting traps and picking locks.” Patchouli and… snake oil?

I knew Etayne, but only casually, and I did not know what she did, or that she had a fox as a friend! “I am Etayne and I offer magic and healing. And this is my companion, Ling.” Whiskey and musk.

Ameiko seemed satisfied with our ad hoc team and pulled up a chair. Gin and sawdust.

“While it is not particularly large, the Brinestump swamp can make travel difficult. The ground is soggy, the undergrowth dense, and the trees crowd close together and block out much of the daylight.”

“There are paths fishermen use, but other creatures, including the goblins, make use of them too. In fact locals tell of a monster that dwells in the swamp and preys upon the unwary or ill prepared.”

“Some years back a recluse built a shack on the shore and he now calls himself the Warden of the Swamp. He is shorter than your friend here,” she said nodding at Sparna, “but he has managed to survive all this time in the swamp, and may give you advice on finding the goblins.”

“If you take the first fishing trail you encounter it will lead you to the beach near his place.”

Within an hour we had gathered our travel gear and met at Sandpoint’s southern bridge, from where we set out on the Lost Coast Road. The day was clear and bright, and the walk pleasant. By mid afternoon we had made our way to the fisherman’s path Ameiko had mentioned.

I led the way along the narrow path, which looked to have been recently travelled, although clearly not regularly. The vegetation became thicker, the ground more damp, and the smell of rotting plants (and other, less pleasant things) filled the air.

“It smells like Takoda’s butt,” squeaked Timber. “Shh,” I hissed, “now is not the time. Keep alert!”

We came to a rickety bridge crossing over one of the channels that make up the Soggy River delta. It had seen better days, but it looked safe enough, and so I crossed.

The others seemed more concerned, and so Kali and Ivan made use of Mending spells to make the structure more sound.

We continued on and the air became more oppressive, and the chirps, whistles, and rustlings of small animals seemed to intensify. Some distance ahead there was a soft splash, and a short while later we came upon another bridge.

We began to see tracks alongside the path: one disturbing set looked like it might have been left by a giant bird. Far off to our left a pig squealed in fear, but it was suddenly cut off.

Another bridge, and recent tracks on the path itself: those of a halfling and human heading in the same direction as us.

Soon the trees thinned out and a short time later the brush opened up, revealing a calm swampy lagoon before us. The tracks led south along the beach, and we followed.

We rounded a hummocky thicket and came upon a two storied shack — signs indicated it was inhabited, and so I called out a greeting, but there was no response.

Anavaru and I walked up to the door as the others fell in behind. Ana knocked.

“Do you think there’ll be mice here?” asked Huffy. McLovin replied earnestly, “Oh yes, I can feel their presence!” “And maybe they will share their food!” added Timber.

The door opened and a halfling stood in the entrance. He was bleeding from numerous wounds, and gaped at us with mouth ajar before saying, “Now is not a good time.” Fear and blood.

Ivan pushed his way up and used a spell to heal him.

The halfling seemed surprised, but thanked him.

That seemed to put our host at ease, and by this time my friends were frantically chanting, “Mice, mice, mice, mice!” Before Pookie broke the cadence with a prolonged squeal of, “Cheeeeeeese!”

It seemed like nothing would quiet them down, and so I stepped through the doorway, with an, “Excuse me, my friends were hoping to find comrades within,” by way of an apology.

First the hallway. Nothing there, and so the next door — ah, a dining room.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Badger, “Check that other door.”

The pantry, and out from the pantry slithered a snake — a viper. Silence from my friends, but the serpent behaved like no wild snake I had ever seen. It passed between my feet and into the dining room.

Curious, but not what I was looking for. Back out into the hall.

Olmas was discussing the goblins with the halfling — I guessed he was the warden Ameiko had told us about, but he seemed confused, and was making little sense. He did seem to think it a good idea that we should go after the goblins right way, but was offering no useful information about what they might have been up to or how to find them.

He denied having been out on the path earlier today, although clearly the two sets of footprints, both halfling and human, were made just hours before and led right up to the shack.

Hmm, yes, interesting, but not very helpful. Our host was standing before another door, but seemed unwilling to move aside.

“Did you know you have a snake in your pantry?” I asked.

“Snake?” said the Warden, “I hate snakes — they bit me! You need to go now and kill all of the goblins.”

Beorn said, “He’s hiding something — he needs to move.”

I pushed the Warden aside and opened the door.

“FRIENDS!” echoed eight little shouts.

Friends indeed. The room was filled with wicker cages of mice and little birds.

How unexpected, but then my guys had been telling me this from the moment we arrived.

“But he’s afraid of snakes,” I said puzzled.

Ivan glanced inside and turned to the Warden and asked, “Why do you have snake food?”

“Oh, I eat those.”

“Really?” I thought, “Then why do you have a pantry full of regular food?”

The Warden was getting positively anxious by now, and Kali had slipped in and suggested that my behavior had put him on edge. My behavior? Olmas and Ivan were the ones talking to him as he got more and more upset, not me.

The Warden was standing next to the remaining closed door where I had pushed him, when suddenly he started, looking fearfully at the door as he edged away.

Olmas reached over and opened it. The room was a vivarium with a score of vipers slithering about.

I thought the halfling was going to faint from the fright. “Snakes, kill the snakes!”

Clearly the halfling was not in his right mind, and thinking that he might be charmed and under mental control of someone else, I climbed the stairs and began to open doors. Ivan was close behind.

But we failed to find anyone else. The first room was an armory of sorts, the second an unused bedroom, and the third clearly belonged to our host.

Kali then called up in Elvish that the halfling was radiating some form of transmutation magic, and maybe I would be needed downstairs.

Oddly enough the Warden answered back (a hermit halfling that can speak Elvish?) that it was probably just the result of Ivan’s healing spell. Hmm, conjuration: not likely.

Meanwhile downstairs the Warden finally snapped and ran up the stairs to stand threateningly in front of me.

“Bite him!” snapped Star.

This did not seem like the best of advice, but perhaps if he saw me swinging my flail he might feel more inclined to talk.

No. He did not. Instead he transformed from a feeble looking halfling to a human sized creature with boney limbs, long claws, and a featureless face.

What the hell? I should have listened to Star.

He slashed at me and grabbed me with surprisingly strong arms. Fortunately Olmas and Sparna were hot on its heals, although the narrow stairwell made it difficult for them to reach the thing.

Olmas and Sparna each tried to hit it, but missed, which at least caused the thing to let me go and strike at Olmas.

Ivan let fly an arrow and shot it, and then both Olmas and Sparna struck it solidly, felling it. They drug its bleeding body downstairs, where I killed it.

So if this was not the Warden, then where was he? Radella had been out scouting around the grounds and said she had seen signs of a struggle, and so we searched both in and out for the body of the halfling.

Instead we found a secret door to a bolt hole, where the Warden was hiding. He had been seriously injured, but after a little channeled energy he (along with Olmas and I) felt much better.

He explained that the creature was a “stalker,” which could assume the shape of its victim. They roamed the swamps, which is why he kept vipers, their mortal enemies, but this one caught him outside, beyond the aid of his snake friends.

He introduced himself as Walthus Proudstump, aka the Warden of the Swamp. Mouse and bird droppings.

Walthus was very grateful, and invited us to spend dinner and the night at his place. He also gave us a cloak of resistance, which was nice. It was also too small for any of us except Sparna to wear.

[100] +1 cloak of resistance (small) (Sparna)

He was also happy to provide information about the Licktoad goblins.

They lived deeper within the swamp, in a ramshackle fort they built for themselves. There were a couple of fishermen’s paths that led to their stronghold which we could take one to get to them, although it was likely to be watched.

He discouraged trying to trailblaze through the swamp and so come upon the goblins from an unexpected route. The mires, bogs and creatures — especially the Soggy River Monster — would make that route unnecessarily dangerous.

We will set out first thing in the morning.

Starday, Sarenith 23, 4712 Mid day
Brinestump Marsh

We ate a hasty breakfast and wished Walthus well, promising we would return at nightfall if we were in need of a nearby place to stay.

After back tracking over yesterday’s path we found the trail leading to the goblin fort. Little footprints of goblins and their dogs showed they must race up and down the path like squirrels.

The same sights, sounds as smells as the day before assaulted us, with the stench becoming especially stronger as the sun rose higher in the sky. We came across more bridges, and an unexpected fork in the way, at which we went west (right) further into the swamp.

Presently we came upon a crudely built fort: a palisades of rotting timbers driven into the muddy ground extending on either side of a foul smelling pool.

A gate had once barred entry, but had been pulled down and was lying, broken upon the ground.

We cautiously approached and looked around. Lots of little goblin prints ran out from the gateway, over the fallen gate (which appeared to have been pushed down from within). There were also human sized prints, but these were from boney feet — boney as in skeletal!

The structures within were on stilts to keep them about five feet up off the muck (and I had always thought goblins were beneath such cares), and raised covered walkways connected them.

The smell of smoke filled the air, and we could see that at least one of the goblin buildings had burned to the ground.

But a much stronger and far more wretched smell came from a large pit just inside the gate. Refuse, bones, and goblin corpses littered the bottom, and large black flies buzzed about, swarming anyone who came too near.

We carefully walked around the pit, and Sparna climbed up the short ladder to peer inside the first building. He called out, “Goblins!” and entered.

Kali looked at me with concern and asked, “Do you think this is right?”

“No, but healing might be needed,” I answered and followed Sparna.

Olmas climbed onto a walkway and entered from that direction.

There were perhaps a dozen goblins cowering in the corner. They seemed fairly pathetic and cowed at first, but when they saw us their look changed from that of prey to predator. Ah well, I needed the gold anyway.

Ivan shot an glowing arrow into the room, hitting a goblin and lighting up the space.

And so went our first fight together, with ranged folk sending in arrows and spells from a distance while the rest of us bashed goblin skulls to paste.

Goblins from another building leaned out a window and began to shoot arrows at our party outside, but they turned their attacks to this new threat, eliminating it in short order.

Our goblins were killed, and we quickly followed the walkways from building to building. At some point we unintentionally separated into small groups as we opened doors, and so when Radella opened a door and yelled, “Lots of goblins!”
we had to scramble to get over to her.

Lots there were, and these put up stiff resistance, but we eventually killed them all, slaying the last one as it fled toward a pair of double doors.

The doors were barred.

We’ve taken a moment to gather together — how the hell could Kali risk exploring a full quarter of the fort on her own? I have drawn a quick sketch of the goblin fort layout based upon what we have seen thus far.