(OOC Note: Anything surrounded by || is something I can’t remember the name of, so if anyone could let me know so I could update, that’d be awesome!)
It seems foolish to put words down on paper, even in this bastardized mix of High-Elven, Common, Orcish, Dwarven, phonetic Kobold, and Thieve’s Cant that I would be amazed anyone but myself and Vylwinalli could read… If anyone else is reading this and you wonder why the ink is blue, I am writing this from a guest room in Liad’s Mage school, and did not have any ink of my own.
She demands I keep my writing skill up so anything I DO write does not look like a Half-Orc wrote it, so here I am, updating the journal. And yes, I am perfectly aware that you can see what I’m writing, love. Why else would I be using proper spelling and words?
We stole what we needed from the Lich, spent a little time with the Gypsies and then continued on our way back to Easton. On the road we came across a camp with some… Interesting people? Demons? I am not entirely certain. We shared a meal, rested, and they teleported us to Easton. While there, a Representative of Dwarf Man and Lobo Enterprises brought us a small box, giving us explicit instructions listed below, and telling us it needed to be taken to Dunbar City. We all were hoping to return home, but this was unfortunately not the case.
- Do Not Open the Box.
- Do Not Lose the Box
- Do Not take on boats except in DIRE emergencies.
- Keep the Box Safe
Instead of the boat home we had expected, we turned our steeds towards the Plains and headed out. It was deep winter, so cold the campsites water trough had frozen and we were forced to break the ice for the horses. Most of us are lucky enough to have some inherent immunity to the cold, thanks to a Silver Dragon, but the Halfling, Fuzzy, is wearing heavy winter clothes. You won’t hear this from me, but she looks a bit goofy bundled up like that.
We continued on, and it was this second day in the plains that we spotted riders on our tail. It didn’t seem completely out of place for other riders to be on the main road through the Plains, but something did not feel right about this. They were hours behind us so we continued, eventually coming to a second campsite. This was manned by a Plainsman selling meat, who explained that the first campsite should not have been frozen over. We strike a rapport with the man (his sons are out hunting wyvern at this point), and it is decided that we go to Lord Lobo’s keep and let them know that the enchantment has failed, at least at the first camp. It adds time to our trip.
You may notice that I have not mentioned Mondar here yet. Mondar has… Become a bit of a problem for me. He has a habit of disappearing, being left behind, showing up for a few days, and then disappearing again. It makes it hard to trust him. Whenever he is with the party, I have taken to keeping him close. Should he try anything, or betray us, if he is with me it will limit collateral damage to the rest of the party. The next time the Dwarf disappears, I will transfer the Box to the Lady Nyth. Of the lot of us, she is the least likely to be killed by a trap or in combat.
On the road to Lobo’s keep (we were given explicit instructions to not leave the road under any circumstances), a giant charger and rider rode down on us. Just before I could tell the party to Scuttle, we realised it was an illusion. Much more terrifying than the illusory Death Knight was the source: A Gnome and his invention. He took note of our reactions and we quickly put him at our backs as we continued on.
At the Keep, we were greeted by a Steward who asked of us our business, and after a wait, we were led in to meet with the Lord of the Keep. Not Lobo, thankfully, but a tired looking nephew. We explained why we had arrived, and warned him of the gnome on his door step. For his part, he warned us that we had assassins with Imperial Writs out for our heads. They were exceptionally well done fakes, but it put us in an awkward position. A large sum of money had put assassins and mercenaries on our tails, and we do not know who has it out for us.
On the road back, we spotted a fairly obvious ambush, killed three of the assassins and paid the 4th a large sum of money to bring his friend’s corpses and gear to us and cease hostilities. Money changed hands, we got some interesting papers and weapons, and returned to the campground with the Plainsman.
He and his sons had captured two more assassins that they had staked to the ground out behind their tents. In a bid for more information, Crys, Lucy, and myself went back. We got some, but one of the assassins said something he should not have to Crys, and I had to send her back around so she would not kill him. He then did the same to me.
I… Do not actually remember what happened, but when I awoke with the taste of blood and flesh in my mouth, tied up securely, I can figure that I lost control of my wolf-side, and Nyth wasn’t close enough to put me down before I (as was explained to me), tore the assassin to basically nothing. I feel like this should bother me more than it does, but the Wolf inside is as much a part of me now as the Blue Lady and… Well, I really do not mind the taste of blood. Besides, he WANTED to die. He just didn’t know he was dealing with a werewolf…
It worked out, however. Seeing his compatriot ripped asunder by a half-orc Werewolf made the second assassin much more willing to talk. We got more information from him, and left him to the Plainsfolk. I got to sit through a remarkably painful ritual to help me control the wolf, part of which was a fight for control between myself and my Wolf. In true Orcish fashion, it was bloody and brutal, but I defeated my Wolfish nature and have gained further control over when I change.
Part of the intelligence we gathered was that the Assassins were using Wyvern Rock as a headquarters of sorts, so we headed there to hopefully gain further insight as to who had put the hit out on us in the first place.
My hand hurts and I’m hungry, so I will not write more for now. I miss my family and my Tiger. Hopefully once this job is done we can clear our names and it will be safe for us to return to Olympia without endangering our loved ones.
~Mugshot WolfFang Dragontooth, Head of the Thieve’s Guild of Olympia