That's the last bloody time I run into a bunch of undead shadow blighters without knowing what they actually are.
I guess that's what I get for trying to impress Bertha, but now after dealing with those wretches I feel all sorts of drained. No big deal though, I can still block most things thrown me way, I'll just do my job and stand in front of everybody, hopefully this time none of us will die because they were adamant about running off ahead of the group. That's been happening too frequently for me liking. If what happened to Tank happens to Bertha I'll never be able to forgive myself.
We really lucked out with the loot this time. Last time we fought this kobold bastard we could only find things that only Otho could use, but on the second go as an undead even Mira found a magical axe and Bertha found some kinna magical scroll. Maybe on the third go when we fight the
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(Being an excerpt from Bertha Wildhearth's letters home.)
Greetings, beloved family,
I bring news of my journeys far from our mountain stronghold. As you know, the outside world is bright and full of sunlight, neither of which particularly appeals to any Dwarf worth his beard. But up here in the north, near Falcon’s Hollow, at least there are plenty of dungeons and caverns where I can at least feel comfortable for a short while. And there’s gold too, if we can find it. As everyone knows, all gold in the world is Dwarven gold, it belongs to the Dwarven kingdoms no matter who currently has it out on loan, so I really have no problem taking it back – by force or stealth, I’m naturally good at both. Well, pretty good. Well, I’m pretty, even if I’m not so good.
Most of all, of course, the world outside our home in the mountains is full of weirdos. And Elves, who are the weirdest of them all, that goes with saying.
Mira panicked. She looked down as she first heard the rapid slithering of the vines and then felt them wrap themselves around her ankles. She thought that maybe she had mistakenly cast the entanglement spell and endangered her friends. She had learned just a few weeks ago that her connection to the forest gave her an innate ability to cast minor spells that could manipulate natural objects. Bay-Wynn had been teaching her to focus her mind for her spellcasting, but she had found that in a dangerous situation it was difficult to concentrate on both the spell and keeping herself and her friends safe. Several times while practicing she found that the spell was cast wider than she had intended because she had trouble ignoring the sounds of the forest and focusing on the elements of the spell.
She quickly glanced around to check for everyone and found that Bertha had taken off towards the entrance to the courtyard. In her field of view she also saw three cobolts. She was relieve
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The winds of fortune were not at our backs this day. We just lost Candy. (Editor's note: She was obnoxious as hell, but she was Randy's sister - whom those of us who knew him miss dearly).
A legion of undead lay at our feet and a necromancer was brought down by many arrows. If only Pint had not been forced to stay behind due to work on his armor delaying his departure.
The accompanying men are of no use. Worthless and Weak. They refuse to engage any enemy and worse, my elfy senses are going "twicha twicha twitcha twitch" whenever I look at this lackluster group which usually means that someone is going to try and kill us soon. I expect that we should not turn our backs on these scoundrels. The others seem to feel the same way.
Following the cleanup after our battle with the undead, Myra and I snuck towards the pit that I had spied earlier behind a woodpile (as part of a scouting/surveillance effort). As we peered over the edge something struck me.
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Our group was tasked as a rescue party by the mayor to return to the logging camp, assess the situation, and assist in any way necessary with the loggers. We were accompanied by a group of seven fighting men. Under the impression that this group of fighters would be helping us, we later found out that they weren't of much use as they only stood by to make sure we accomplished our task with the rescue attempt.
On our way to the camp we were surprised by a group of four large wolves who we found out were the cousins of Greypelt, another wolf who had earlier
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The Journals of Njörd Eissen - Out of the Blizzard to be Bombarded by Bears
We ran from the storm, our foes, and certain death, into a literal bear trap. Worn and weary from our previous encounters our group bounded away through the woods only to hear the growls from rabid beasts approaching. Even though she was drastically wounded, Mira grabbed our halfling healer, stuffed him in her knapsack for better protection, and sent her wolf away, who was barely holding onto life herself. Once we spotted the bears, the party split. The beasts easily caught up to the lead-footed Pint and swatted him down and out for the encounter. Otho stabilized the dwarf as Mira tried for cover behind a tree. Bay-Winn and I took off further into the forest to try and draw one away, Bay-Winn attempted to climb a tree, but failed embarrassingly.