With the Stolen Lands nearly plotted, we figured a rest at Oleg’s would do some bodies good, except for Jhod and Tarquin. Jhod had to stick around the temple to Erastil and make with the divine inspiration and needed a little more magic to make it happen I expect. Too bad that magic had to be Tarquin, the best man to stitch up yours truly again after a bloody bout.
The next bit I’m a bit fuzzy on, most like due to too many blows to the head and other vitals. We’d been avoiding a four troll party around these parts, having seen ‘em a couple time already, and havin’ the good sense to avoid em’. Too bad one found us, least I think it did. Head still hurts. Hulking green bastard screamin’ “MEAT!”, and launchin’ wrist-thick arrows into my favorite torso, I didn’t think we’d talk our way outa this. And if the gods have a say in the lives of man, I’m pretty sure they said “Fuck You.” to every one of us. Butterfingers all around. T’was like watchin’ crippled babies tryin’ to kill a moose by cryin’ it t’ death. Bein’ the whiniest little babe in this tussle, after some kind of crushing blow, everything went dark again. Was only after I came to, they told me they damn beast ran away. Didn’t use too much of that wand on me. Figured after that display, if I couldn’t hold my own again I might as well be dead. Oligo’s way is startin’ to look prettier and prettier.
After binding my wounds a bit, we made our way south again. We found some kind of wolf or fox, or whatever. A thylacine, Oligo called it. Regardless, poor beast was stuck in a pit, just like Megil and me a few seconds later. I was feelin’ a bit restless, so I split the beast and called it. Beast was dumb enough to fall in, so we figured it too dumb to cook either, not to mention it had no meat on it. We kept on, coming upon a nice big bush of what turned out to be fangberries, just the kind that old saggy sack Bokken was lookin’ for. After a bit o’ trouble with some spiders, we managed to harvest a few bagfuls.
We found our way to a small river, and eyes caught a little something we’d hope to find again, a Tatzlwyrm, head and all. A little more gold never hurt, so we rushed in aiming for blood. Almost half my guts were inside me again, so I was ready for action. Vistos found his way pretty quick into the maw of one of them, another having burst from their den. I cut the little bastard free, too bad the wyrm head got ruined in the cleave. The gods are true cunts sometimes. We cut down the other, sparing the head this time. Wyrms must’ve eaten a few travelers before us. Best eyes amongst us caught some shiny in the weeds, and found some old fool had himself eaten, rich fool though. Took the dead’s glittering armor and some other goodies, and made our way out.