24th of Sandstone (cont.)
Just north of Herograves is the town of Diptrampled. Within the keep, I found a strange-shaped fellow. He looked like a big mouth with arms and legs and introduced himself as Nom, whilst simultaneously handing me a delicious biscuit. We chatted over the meals he cooked, and he told me of the local "rulers." Apparently they're a band of outlaws calling themselves "The Black Nightmares." He wasn't too concerned, he was happy to cook and they were happy to eat. I guess it's the simple things for some people. There seemed to be a mini museum of weapons with historical owners in the keep there. A halberd owned at one time by a dark one named Pictham, or a short sword owned by someone calling themselves Lurker. I decided to drop off the wooden spear that I had used briefly. Now it has a shared history between myself and someone named Raki, whoever that was. Nom seemed a bit worried after hearing that name, so it was probably someone influential.
Deeper in the keep, Nom showed me something strange. It was a small pouch that seemed to flicker in the light. Apparently it was made of
boogeyman leather! I had heard stories about such creatures and how they would fade into mist after the sun rose, but somehow a particularly plucky craftsman had not only managed to procure a corpse of one, he had skinned and tanned their hide to make a truly unique fashion statement. I think this would make quite a good entry into the bigger Museum nearby, I must only deliver it (in my own name of course) and soon, hopefully the name of The Squeezing Fords will be on the lips of locals here. If not that, then hopefully my own clothiering business will be revitalized. I wonder if I could make a jacket out of boogeymen?
While exploring the town, a strange looking dwarf pulled me aside to tell me about some outlaws that had apparently occupied the great tomb of Bornoats. I'm pretty sure I saw a large pile of gems behind him but he moved to block my view and assured me that I was capable of handling a few brigands, and that there would be plenty of plunder to be had. I'm not so sure that it'd be very profitable compared to just going back to Relicward, but it'd give me something to do.
25th of Sandstone
I've finally made it to The Museum of Boltspumpkin, and what wonders I have seen! And what horrors! Priceless artifacts of untouchable beauty stand side-by-side with great piles of skulls that reach nearly to the ceiling. Works of great knowledge share a shelf with a blood-stained and dented book about goblin history. Even the patrons of this museum are quite interesting. I found one of those mutant experiments that plague my forest retreat. But I couldn't help but find myself enamored with the weapons that he carried. Their colors shifted and seemed to blister, pop, and reform into square patterns, but somehow held its form and retained a deadly edge. He carried many shields made from the stuff with him and I offered to buy one. I had some regrets, as I had to sit through a feverish sermon about his dedication to the god of blood, and how the spoils of slain divinity were his, and some other things that I stopped listening to. Eventually he parted with his lowest quality shield for quite an obscene price.
I passed the day chatting and sharing drinks (though they steered me away from the wine) with the locals, learning about great adventures and conquests as well as the horrid villains that have come and gone. Apparently I've met quite a few of them already, and they're surprised that one such as me has gotten away in one piece. I've started realizing real quick that this world is much bigger than I could've ever thought, and filled with things that are far beyond my capacity to deal with. While I may never be able to match the feats of violence of these other heroes, I might still be able to make history by restoring the health and power of my homelands. If another power-mad necromancer should come to our forests with an army of the dead, we need to be ready.
I set the boogeyman leather pouch down on a pedestal, making my official entry. My dreams of restoration will take quite a few decades to realize.
28th of Sandstone
I found the tomb, but there were no criminals here, just a bunch of loaded traps. I've got nothing to show for this trip besides Bilalo's broken leg.
29th of Sandstone
I've travelled to the fortress of Agefall, at the suggestion of Kadol Princesspage. He was a dwarf I met at Boltspumpkin, and told me the rumors of a newly made fortress and gave me its approximate location. Well, I've found it and I'm finding rotten dwarf corpses on the outside. I've heard that the dwarves were almost wiped out during The War of Fists, but this fortress was built sometime after that war had ended! My companions nervously drew their weapons, expecting a fight and got one soon after. A dwarf showing signs of what I now know as the Obin Blight charged us. I'm not sure if the dwarf was skilled before, or if his disease brought him to new heights of strength, but he would not fall! He broke Bilalo's spine, cracked one of Beakie's wings, and even had my spear stuck clean through his head without showing signs of stopping! It was only after I got hold of him and tore his throat apart with my bare hands did he finally die.
After exploring, I can tell that the dwarves here had barely managed to build their shelter before finding their doom. The farms are plowed, but barren. Fresh ores lie on the floor, extracted from the cave walls while the anvil still sits in their wagon. All the other corpses have broken bones and shattered skulls, could the dwarf that I killed have done this to all of them? When nature takes its course and claims the corpses for the soil, the only evidence that they were ever here will have been the small wooden hut they constructed.
I wonder, if this shield was taken "from the divines" as Lonelythrall said, then could this blistering metal have something to do with the blistering Obin Blight that has plagued this land? I don't trust the current druid of our realms, but I will consult him nonetheless. I doubt he wants to deal with the risk of the blight spreading to our mutant population. It's gonna be a long trek north...
3rd of Timber
I had heard rumors of bandits occupying the hamlet of Mossmatched far to the east, but when I went to investigate I found an occupying force of goblins instead. I didn't stick around to let them see me.
4th of Timber
I've found the fortress of Waterdeep, again with the directions given to me by Princesspage. This place is still bustling with life, unlike many of the fortresses I've visited before. The dwarves tell me that they built this fortress as a monument to their gods, and in doing so they've made an impressive shrine at the top of a waterfall which is the main source of water for a massive river that gives life to many other nations.
(We're 12 levels off the ground!)
Strangely enough, I could not find a path to the underground, nor did I find evidence of metalworking amongst these dwarves. The entire, fortified structure was built from the same stone quarried to make a massive moat around the fortress.
5th of Timber
On our way west, we ran into a goblin patrol. One of them cut off Beakie's right wing with an axe, and she bled to death not long afterwards. The patrol was small, so the rest of us avenged her. Even when I leave the forest behind, my friends are still murdered by these fiends!
(Blood flows and mixes into the stream.)
We ran into another patrol. Bilalo is dead now. The goblins are crawling everywhere around here. In the evening, my other two companions and I ambushed two other patrols, wiping them out.
6th of Timber
Ambushed another three patrols. I had planned on letting one goblin live after giving them my name, but then they attacked after surrendering so I had decided to put them all down.
7th of Timber
Ambushed a group of goblins that included their general, Utes Hellmute. I ran down her bodyguard and cornered her. She refused to tell me her plans so I gouged her eyes out and left her alone in the forest.
As I reflect on this and my recent encounter with the blight, I realize that sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands.
11th of Timber
Spent a few days trekking through the mountains, only to run into (and through) more goblin filth. It's almost like they're being bred for the express purpose of dying in battle, because I found a group of unarmed and unarmored recruits attempting to fight alongside actual soldiers. They also had some sort of priest following the group. I've noticed someone in similar dress when I saw the army a week ago. My companion Betra fled like a coward rather than face the encamped enemy with me, only to return after I've already won the battle. I let him know that he need not follow me any longer.
14th of Timber
I am nearly home. But then I heard a howling on the wind. Just as my journey began, so does it end. My final companion, Cusith, was strangled to death by a howling freak. It never released its grip on his neck even as I stabbed it again and again, until his life left his eyes. Then it broke my fucking ankle before bleeding to death.
16th of Timber
I have made it to the eastern forests of my homeland, all alone. I've made my case to the druid and he seems willing to see if Cacame could help with this worldly blight. Winter is upon us soon, and there will be much work that needs to be done. Besides that, I must rest my ankle. It may be a long time before I can go out in the world again, because I'll need time to garner support for my cause. Despite all the evils of the world, I'm sure that the turn of the millenium will be a shining age of peace and prosperity.
Now... Where do I begin?