Journal Entries

Journal entries of our band of intrepid adventurers! Reflecting upon your adventures increases the impact of their lessons upon you. +50 xp.

Phandalin. Stonehill Inn. Not a minute past the regular dinner hour, Stonehill Inn’s common room becomes a chaotic jumble of local regulars exitting and travellers entering. As the local folk dawdle about, and the adventuring types began ordering drinks and negotiating for lodging, the room fills with convivial and animated conversations, punctuated by the occasional outburst of laughter. Valrieth quietly disengaged from his companion’s table. The adventuring party he had joined up with days ago in Neverwinter turned their attention to rehashing the rescue of Gundreth’s body guard. Valrieth was loathe to discuss it and hoped his companions wouldn’t take it as a slight when they noticed he had left them at the table near the bar. Weaving through the room, trying to avoid the wild hand gestures of patrons, Valrieth found his way to a bench against a stone wall near the tiny performers stage. From this spot he could sit alone and avoid his group for a while. He was too embarrassed to discuss the events from the previous couple days travelling to Phandalin. Hopefully taking a seat next to the stage would be enough social cover to excuse his unannounced exit. Regulars and travellers alike ignored Valrieth, which allowed him a few moments alone with this thoughts. “Seat taken?”, a woman’s voice broke Valrieth’s contemplation. Before he could respond, the adventurer loudly deposited her shield, axe, and other gear beside the table. She plopped down on the bench that Valrieth occupied, and scooched over, bumping Valrieth. With her muddy boot, she hooked her foot around the leg of a nearby table and pulled it over. Valrieth frowned as loudly as he could manage as he watched the heavy oak table scrape over the floorboards toward him. As she shed her leather and fur overcoat, Valrieth noted that she was pretty - in a rough and tumble sort of way. Her blonde hair, done up in a complex plait, and fair eyes marked her as a northerner. Her accent was unmistakable as one of the Uthgardt tribespeople from the savage frozen lands. As his new companion peeled off her gloves and rolled up the sleeves of her linen tunic, she signaled to the overworked bar attendant for a drink, holding two up two fingers. “Ynghild.” She said as she offered her hand to Valrieth in greeting. Immediately, Valrieth was intensely interested in her. Ynghild’s arm had a tattoo of a stylized dragon, one that covered the entire length of her arm down to her fingers. Black on her pale skin, the dragon tattoo dominated her taut bicep and muscular forearm. She looked him over and said something in a guttural language he couldn’t understand. “Your markings. Where did you get them?” Valrieth replied without taking her offered hand. Ynghild smiled and twisted her arm around to show Valrieth the entire tattoo. “Had it done before I left the Worm Cave. It is the mark of my tribe.” She raised her elbow to show Valrieth the tail of the dragon. “Sorry if I startled you with my harsh Uthgardt words, by your hair and eyes, I thought we were kinsman.” While Ynghild turned her arm this way and that, explaining to Valrieth the meaning of the twisting lines and interlocking marks, the server placed two mugs on the table. Ynghild smiled brightly to the server, handing him a coin, which was deftly pocketed as he rushed off to another table. Both mugs smelled of fresh flowers and spring honey. It was mead. Valrieth hated mead. “To your family, and your honored dead.” Ynghild said to both Valrieth and to no one in particular, then paused a heartbeat to close her eyes in what might be a silent prayer, and then took the slightest sip from her earthenware mug. Valrieth let his mug remain, untouched, on the table. He blinked once in the silence that followed her toast. “Your tribe? Do you…” Valrieth began to ask before Ynghild held up a hand to politely cut off his question. “Name first friend,” she asked. “Oh, indeed.” Valrieth adjusted his sitting position, shifting ever so slightly away from Ynghild - as much as possible without falling off the other end of the oak bench. “My name is Valreith. I am from… Waterdeep.” Ynghild didn’t respond to his lie one way or the other, which made Valreith more uncomfortable. He was certain most people could tell he was not from Faerun, but were either too polite to say anything or simply did not care when he lied about being from Waterdeep. He picked the most populous and cosmopolitan city on purpose to hopefully avoid questions. “I see. Are you traveling with a group?” Ynghild replied as she wrapped her callused hands around her mug of mead. Valreith nodded toward his companions table. “There.” Ynghild politely pursed her lips before replying, then took another sip from her mug after looking at Valreith’s party. “Avoiding your group tonight? It is something you can talk about?” “I’d rather…” Valrieth stopped before continuing. “It is terribly rude is it not? If I do not talk about it?” He looked at her tattoo again and then at his untouched mug of mead. Ynghild shrugged ever so slightly. “It isn’t my place to judge. But it may help to talk it out with a stranger.” “My companions. They are remarkable. However, when they needed me most, my magic failed them.” Valreith replied after a few moments to watch Ynghild drink her mead. “As a diviner, it is my lot to foresee dangers. As a teammate, It is my job is to lend my magic - magic turns the tide in battle. In truth, I was lucky that things did not go worse when the goblins ambushed us.” Ynghild’s listened to the recounting in stoic silence, though her placid face turned sour at the mention of the goblins. “Nothing I hate worse than goblins.” She looked toward Valrieth’s companions. “Still, your party looks alive. Unless someone is unaccounted for?” “They all are accounted for, though we did suffer several close calls. The goblins were clever. One took a hostage.” Valreith placed his pale hand around his mug. “Nevertheless, We saved our employer’s bodyguard.” Ynghild raised her mug toward Valrieth. “There is glory in that.” Pausing for two breaths, Valrieth raised his mug and touched hers. “Perhaps there is.” Valreith took a cautious taste of the mead, just a sip. He did not mind the taste of the mead so much after all. And it was nice, sitting in companionable silence with Ynghild. Maybe tomorrow would offer another opportunity for glory. ========= A potential substitute character is my new PC, Ynghild (pron. ING-heelduh), a cleric of Tempus. I was inspired to create her character after learning that DNA evidence proved that viking women were not only fighters, but part of the elite caste of officers who led viking warriors into battle. You can see the full article here. LINK Ynghild Grundirsdottir (Human Cleric of Tempos) Selected by the drawing of lots, Ynghild was chosen to become a shield-maiden of Tempos, god of war. Before she had dreams of marriage, a quiet life of farming, raising children, and riding horses along the rocky shores of Ruytum. That all changed when her lot was chosen. At only sixteen years of age, she was taken in by the warriors circle at the cave of the great worm (dragon) and trained to be a fighter. Given two visions by the god Tempos, she is driven to found a dynasty of her own, a glorious tribe that will last generations. But she is haunted by a competing vision, that of a great dragon devouring the world. Which vision will win out? Ynghild fights to win the glory of one, and defeat the horror of the other. Feature: Many are skeptical of my talents, of my size, and strength. They become believers in the god of war when they feel his wroth in the bite of my ax. Quirk: I remember every insult I’ve received and nurse a silent resentment toward anyone who’s ever wronged me. Arc: I will found a tribe of my own, my blood name shall see no end. Bonds: I suffer awful visions of a coming disaster and will do anything to prevent it.

Unaccustomed to sleeping on a real bed Krusk decided we would sleep better in the outdoors. In the middle of the night he grabbed his fur and sword then headed out for the closest woods to get a better sleep.  He found a decent sized forest to the southeast minutes walk away from the tavern. He found a large tree with a root to rest his head and laid out to sleep. While he was dreaming he felt something cold and sharp press against his neck. He awoke to see an orc he recognized "Uram" he said while he was still on his back seemly unconcerned with the axe blade at his throat. "I'm to bring you back and have you answer for your crimes against the tribe" Uram spoke in Orcish. Krusk stood up slowly with the axe blade still pressed against his neck. He smiled "I'm not interested in going back there." At the base of the tree there were many large roots protruding the ground. Krusk gestured he would follow.  Uram looked away momentarily Krusk seized the opportunity and shoved Uram back he tripped over a root and tumbled to the ground. Krusk picked up his great-sword "Don't test your luck."  Krusk slowly backed away while Uram was still on his back he then turned and jogged back to town and decided perhaps as uncomfortable as it is much safer at the tavern. 

I spent a lot of money on that grappling hook. Our ranger took it, lost it, and has yet to replace it. Oh, he has promised to do so, but I have yet to see even the slightest item that resembles a hook of any kind. The tree-hugger better not try to pawn off a bunch of branches tied together as a grappling hook. Grappling hooks have a long history and many uses. You can use them to pull down trees, pull rocks, climb, drag orcs over cliffs, you name it. You know who can't do any of those things? Me, right now. Why? Because the ranger lost my damned grappling hook. I think any adventuring group should have a standing rule that everyone carries a grappling hook.  I had a dream when I took a brief nap. I was climbing up a mountain with a rope. I was in the middle of my climb when I realized the rope was not secured to anything because there was no grappling hook. I started to fall, screaming all the way down. I woke up right before I landed.  I need to get my grappling hook back. Maybe a magic grappling hook that has a spell cast on it of anti-ranger-losing-me. Maybe something that can return to my hand whenever I call it. I will keep my eye out. 

|Ava's Adventuring Log| Day 1: Another day, another coin at the inn today. I thought it was better to give both myself and Blazit a rest once we arrived to Phandalin. Mostly because of the town being so small, I didn't deem it necessary to try and pick up work. Though my plans for just entertaining the guests at the Stonehill Inn with my flute, a strange group consisting a dwarf, a few other pale-colored tall folks, and an orc-ish looking man. Those young folk stood out like a sore thumb in the bland atmosphere of this inn, but I continued to play the flute as per usual. My attention was drawn to one of the young men generously tossing me a few gold coins as a tip for my flute playing, never thought I'd ever received a tip more than just a measly copper piece; at least some  folks still appreciate Bard at their musical works. It wasn't until the same young man I believe offered me a chance to tag along and adventure with them into a sort of Dungeon or cavernous territory, I had nothing better to do and Blazit could use the exercise; so I accepted the offer. Not even a few moments later, the Red Brand bastards came into town harassing the town. AGAIN.  Those rapscallions boiled my blood so, infuriating me seeing those ignorant bafoons doing as they please. So the young woman (granted a bit drunk) stumbled up to one of them and attacked them upon seeing their ignorance affecting the townspeople. The orc-ish man attempted to question them but they didn't take too kindly to the orc touching them, and we ended up fighting the Red Brand. And damn if I say that it felt wonderful finally seeing their faces beaten in, despite at the expense of the young woman being knocked unconscious. But thankfully her wounds were too dreadful, nothing a little curing couldn't fix! The next day, the group and I woke up and ate at the Inn, the poor young woman slumped down the stairs, dragging her arms and shield, looking just like a child but ... much, much taller. Especially with her ruffled up hair; it was adorable. The poor woman leaned over a great deal and leaned against my shortened self as I pet her bed-head hair ever so slightly and instructed her to go and eat and drink. After feeding Blazit, we made our way down to the general store to deliver some sort of goods, and also purchase a few items. I believe the dwarven man asked if one of a higher charismatic skill to go in with Cocidius and procure items at a cheaper price, and being quite the able silver-tongued bard, I volunteered. The older man attending the clerk's table welcomed us with a smile, as the taller man and I asked for the needed items; 2 Grappling Hooks, and 1 Minor potion, I was thankfully able to convince the old codger to let us have the grappling hooks for free! Though that codge refused to let up on the minor potion! 50 Gold for such a small bottle?! It was outrageous! But sadly, I withdrew my banter for the shopkeep and took the items in exchange for the required 50 Gold. We continued onwards, hiking towards the Goblin infested cavern ranges. The whole group took the night to rest, being rather awake and used to be active during a night watch, I tributed myself to being the first watch, under my line of sight; it went uneventfully quiet. But after I fell asleep, I was awoken to a party of orcs attempting to ambush us.  The 6 large orcs had the intent to kill, it was a very rough patch with Cocidius and Ynghild falling unconscious once or twice, but thankfully we were able to pull through and continue our evening with no other combat encounters to our relief.  Upon arriving at the cave, we discovered a sort of .. a rather hairy creature, and a group of goblins with an accompanying wolf. I think the group referred it as a buggabear? Boogarbear? Something like that, I can't quite remember. It took quite a while to kill them all, but thankfully we were able to pull through one by one. I attempted to speak to the wolf and maybe persuade it to desist attacking us, but to no avail, he continued the attack us.  Once the blasted goblins were finally dead, and Rath and Krusk were very, very wounded. The party looked at my direction in the question of what I was going to do since when do people put their hope in a 3-foot Halfling?! It was all ... very stimulating, I'll admit. But! I was able to accurately hit  the god damn thing; using one of the pommel's of my walking stick-- my staff, I jabbed it into the monster's face hard, potentially breaking its nose, or at least I think I did. Typically noses don't look L-shaped, do they? I digress, once the damn thing was dazed, I took my chance and beat that thing's god damn ugly face into grounded beef-submission, continuing to do so until everything from the neck up was absolutely obliterated from the neck up. It was at this point, the group wondered if I was really  a Bard or a Barbarian.   Upon regaining my composure, I did my best to heal whom I could, and we then proceeded to rest at the camp the group of monsters utilized. Hopefully, we'll be able to find something useful then continue on our journey! I wonder what Sitrey would think of me now, finally taking his leading and exploring the world like he is. I ought to consider writing to him one day, seeing how he's doing. Until that day comes, I should consider resting like the others are. We might have a long day ahead of us. Watch over me, Kadras ... I have a feeling I might need your luck if our encounters are going to be just as eventful as today. 

Cragmaw Cave. Afterward. The hobgoblin’s head came off in one good, clean stroke. A good omen. Ynghild did not have the heart to condemn her foe to Pandemonium, to an eternity of screaming, pleading for mercy from evil Hruggek. Yes, one stroke was a good omen. A sign of the god of war, Tempos’, favor. Two strokes... well, that would have been vexing, wouldn’t it. Three strokes is an insult. Hruggek, god and patron of the bugbear would have his due otherwise. While recovering from the battle with the bugbear, and the creature’s wolf, Ynghild had decided this foe deserved a better fate. The monster had stood and fought when it could have run, even surrounded by foes. It deserved better than humiliation among the victims of Hruggek’s petty cruelty - to become a screaming head impaled on a spike. Those poor bastards were bound in the afterlife to forever plead with Hruggek for release from their humiliation and suffering. That was no fate for a warrior, monster or no. Tempos approved. One stroke with Ynghild’s ax was all the proof she needed. “Do not return again, Hruggekson…” Ynghild began to chant as she grasped the foul creature’s severed head. The bugbear’s jaw reflexively unclenched as she lifted, its reeking last breath lolling out along with its tongue. It was difficult to get a firm grip on the severed head, what with Ava’s near pulverization of the creature’s skull. Both eyes were put out of the sockets. Most of the teeth knocked out by blunt force trauma. That was one foul mouthed, corybantic halfling. Ynghild instantly loved her. Ynghild continued to chant as she made her way to the edge of a nearby pool. “...do not trouble our steps in undeath…” It would not do, having the creature return as an undead horror. Enslaved to haunt the surrounding woods, seeking forever for revenge. She tossed the head into the water. It made a unceremonious splash as it hit the surface. “...rejoin your ancestors…” Ynghild knelt to wash the gore from her hands and forearms. “...or be reborn to fight again.” She finished and sat on the rocky shore. As she tossed a few pebbles into the water and watched the head float on the rippling surface, she began to second guess herself. This monster wouldn’t want to fight by her side in the afterlife. It wouldn’t offer her the same honor. But... Tempos was a fair god, and he did not spare the doubts or feelings of one follower. She pondered this as she rested her chin in her hands. In the water, the bugbear’s skull rolled around to look up eyeless into the unending dark ceiling of the cave. It bobbed for several moments, and floated into a nearby object, idly bouncing against the floating corpse of a slain goblin. It did not matter in the long run, she decided, Ynghild’s fate, like the bugbear’s, was already decided. She paused and gave the goblin corpse a thought, looking around at their scattered remains in the gloom of the fetid cave. She sneered, “Vermin.” The deserved neither prayer nor rite. “Fucking try and drown me. Burn in hell.” She said as she rose to rejoin her group.

Journal Entry 2 The ground shook, the thunder roared, and the giants quaked – and why you ask? Because the Grappling Hook League was formed. A few things happened before this momentous occasion in the Forgotten Realms history. We went to Phandalin, a rather interesting town if only for its people-watching. We walked in town and BAM, a beautiful lass sitting in the first inn. I will say, she was a bit on the muscular side for me. She also seemed angry a lot and I learned later that she has a problem hitting things with her weapon or staying on her feet long enough to do a lot of good with those healing spell-things she always talks about. Come to think of it, maybe she wasn’t as beautiful as I thought. Oh well, I am just glad this is a private diary and nobody will know my innermost thoughts about Brumhilda. I think that was her name. So, on we go for the people-watching. The next interesting person was an elderly woman who thought she could sing. I felt extremely bad for her so I tossed her some gold coins to encourage her. After all, at her age who can tell how long she has left in this world. No need to be mean. She ended up joining our party and became a founding member of GHL! As a big proponent of diversity, I am very proud that we have a representative for the old and decrepit. Nobody can ever accuse of us of age discrimination or of violating the Neverwinter Age Discrimination Act. We let her fight, sing (badly), and do stuff. We even let her kill a bugbear!!! She was extremely proud of herself. Good for her. Sildar kept his end of the bargain. We were paid our money and we even learned of a possible new job. Apparently, a trade guild in town is having some problems with bandits. We may need to help them out in the future. Guild leaders are always heavy with coin and light with brains if you know what I mean. Back to GHL!!! We were ambushed by about 50 damn orcs on the way back to the mine. We all pulled together and were able to defeat them. It looked close at times. It seemed like they had some sort of accuracy spell on their weapons. Our ranger, who I must say is a good sort, simply could . . . not . . . dodge . . . ANYTHING. I swear an orc could have sneezed and the tree hugger would have gone down. It didn’t matter though once we came together and all worked toward a common goal. Once the orcs were dispatched I decided to illuminate the group about what that common goal was – WE ARE GHL! I proposed that henceforth we be known as the Grappling Hook League. I didn’t have to say that twice to our beloved front-line meatbag Krusk. He may be as stupid as a horse but oh Tempus, can he swing that weapon. It is a thing of beauty watching him smash our enemies. I digress. At the ceremony, everyone agreed to GHL’s formation and seemed to gain a step with the inevitable burst of morale. We moved on to bring death, destruction (and our glorious message of greatness) – to the evils that darken this world. We made it back to the mines. It isn’t really important though. I mean, after this point it all goes downhill. What is better than forming GHL? Oh well, for my memory I guess I better put something down. We killed goblins, we killed a bugbear, and we all did great, even the ranger. He really excelled right up until he fell in battle again. Thank goodness I had that healing potion. I poured that down his throat and he was back in the battle just in time to join the rest of us in letting the old one kill the bugbear. Joyous times. I can’t wait to see what comes next. I almost forgot, we recovered my (well, GHL’s) legendary grappling hook. The End.

Journal Entry 1 Goblins killed: 4 After Reaching Phandalin we dropped off the supplies and i got that nagging dwarf a new grapple hook. We picked up two new companions a rather loud and talkative cleric who seemed to enjoy her drink a little to much. Almost as much as she enjoyed hitting things, well attempting to hit things. The drinks probably didn't help her in the attempts. This attempt at hitting things and krusk being a little to overbearing got us in trouble with a local gang which i think were called the red cloaks or something. They quickly knocked Yng down so we had to step in and rescue her. The old halfling bard also joined our party after Rath gave her two gold and asked if she wanted to earn more (that is what i assume he said i not paying attention). After the red cloaks were dealt with we decided to travel back to the goblin cave that we discovered before we arrived in Phandalin on the second night we were ambushed by a group of six orcs. They rushed me and i went down before the rest of the group could react Krusk and Yng managed to fight them back and help me get back to my feet. We then proceeded to eliminate the orcs. When all the orcs were dead and we settled back down to rest Rath decided that we needed a name for our group. I believe he called it the LGH or HLG, Something like that i was not paying attention they are a little loud for my taste but they are not bad companions to have around. We reached the cave and went inside. Even after i warned them the new members of the party got swept away by the water trap and i had to go collect them. We eventually made our way to the end of the cave were we found a rather large group of goblins and a bugbear leading them. i managed to take out three goblins before getting knocked down and Rath risked his life to give me a health potion (thought i did pay for half of it). Once i got back up i killed the last goblin and then watched as the halfling woman bashed in the bugbears face with her walking stick while the rest of them just stood there. We also managed to find the missing grapple and are now resting.

|Ava's Adventuring Log| Day 2-3: My newfound compatriates and I have been exploring the vast unknown over the course of these few weeks, delving deep into deep, darkened mines and fighting off disgusting monsters. A Warlock traveled with us during the escapade of the mines where our beloved Cleric woman Ynghild was so generous enough to baptize a poor, sinning man in a nearby pool of water. Though I'll be honest, seeing her drown the man wriggled free a chuckle during combat; what a glorious sight to see, a once in a lifetime opportunity I assure you. Once the mines were clear, we returned back to the town to rest accordingly and heal our given wounds properly as well as find more work to do. The orc, the dwarf, and the cleric were off busy doing their own things within the town as Cocidius and I thought to be able bodies and find another assignment to keep our hands busy. Little did we know that we found a job looking to have a party of orcs hunted down for harassing the travelers and merchants of this town and neighboring villages. So of course, Treehugger and I (with our accompanying donkey, whom I've fondly named Stoic) found ourselves traveling over the course of four days time, our first encounter was a smaller band of patrolling orcs. It was rather difficult taking down three stronger and bulkier humanoids but they were slaughtered nonetheless. One of them attempted to escape, but little did he know that turning your back on the enemy is worse than standing there and continuing the fight, and of course shot the bastard down with my crossbow with ease.  After resting, we awoke to a very strange looking bald man who seemed very confused as to why he was there. A little after the introductions were made, a hoard of Goblish shinobi darted through the forest terrain shooting at us. So naturally being the smallest of the group, I took my chance to hide behind the corpses of the orc band we slaughtered, trying to keep my friend Cocidius alive with these damnable Goblins attacking us every chance they got! Our Monk acquaintance was able to deal with a majority of them being turned to ground beef. But, with ease, the battle was won and no one was gravely hurt.  We pressed on further and into some sort of cavernous looking place, and there we found the orcs in the job advertisement, and we took out the first small group with ease, silently eliminating them one by one. Once entering further within the cave, we found the orcs mentioned in the advertisement we accepted; only with one small difference that the ad mentioned ... THERE WAS A GOD FORSAKE OGRE  IN THEIR MIDST. Dealing with the orcs was a cake walk in comparison to this damnable ogre we had to face! This thing trudged over and attacked Cocidius with one hit, and he was badly injured. Thankfully between synonymous attack successions between myself, Cocidius and our Monk friend, it all went swimmingly with of course Treehugger taking it upon himself to skewer the damn fool's testicle sack, hacking it clean off. A little brutal for the opposite sex to look at, but I personally found it absolutely hilarious. Sitrey for sure would get a laugh out of this wonderful slapstick comedy that was this combat if it were under exaggerated circumstances.  The ogre was dead and neutered. The remaining orcs soon followed. With our job nearly complete, all we had to do was make it back to the town in one piece. Not that hard, right? WRONG. We ended up being swarmed by a pack of these absolutely disgusting bugs! A pack of them almost tried to suck me dry! Thankfully though they were very easy to kill, minus the sores and bugbites gifted from these little buggers.  Upon our arrival back into the town, I personally stormed into the town hall and demanded the desk keeper to give us a higher pay for slaying an ogre we were nevever informed about, the man seemed skeptical at first but thankfully I was able to weave my magic so it helped me with of course assistance of Ball Skewer Cocidius himself to provide the evidence of the now, detached sack of testicular mass from the ogre's body. With a grimace and indifferent expression, we got our pay thankfully. Our monk friend had to go, and the Treehugger and I made it back to the Inn to reunite without compatriets and tell them of our wonderful victory! But that just only begs the question ... how much does an Ogre testicle sell for nowadays? One can only hope its a plentiful amount. I think Cocidius wanted to empty out the mass and utilize the skin to make a sack out of the sack ironically enough. Either way, we made more coin that we bargained for thankfully. Let's just hope it can stay that way as well as maintaining our wellbeing in the process, yes?

Dead? No way not us! The giant spiders and twig blights and zombies tried but quick thinking and selfless acts saved us. I like this group I want to help them.  sildar hired me to find what seems to be a very important dwarf. we found out where the druid who knows how to get to the castle is and we went to him. Gods we almost died if it wasn't for him helping it would have been the end of us. it's only right that we kill the dragon. A green dragon is tormenting the land and it's up to me to make sure the group is invested in it's demise. I do miss Aldin though. I think about him alot. He taught me what I know. after being in the fights today I'm realizing I need to be better from a distance. I have a weakness that I want to fix. I'm thinking of looking into warlock studies.

Entry 1 of Falas Taurstrand Joining with a group of adventurers that I met in the town of Phandalin, we are off in search of a druid who may know the location of Cragmaw. We were told by someone at the alderberry farm, that he is usually seen coming from, or in the area of Thundertree. We group up and make our way north to Neverwinter. ... More or less uneventful journey headed to Thundertree. We break off east, across the plains a few miles shy of Neverwinter to save some time. All in all, it was quite a pleasent trip (though Ava and Cocidius bickered most of the way). Arriving at Thundertree, we notice something is amiss almost instantaneously. With our guards up, we proceed with caution up a hill and find the corpses of two monstrous spiders. After a short battle in what appears to used to be a tavern, we move south to a building that seemed to be locked shut from the inside. Our Mechanical friend pounds on the door, and a Druid by the name of Reidoth answers and is kind enough to let us in. We introduce ourselves (me in Druidic) and explain how we were informed that he may know the location of the castle Krat-Ma. He explains that he knows the location, but he cannot travel with us (he has other important matters to focus on). We ask about the spider corpses and he tells us that a Young Green Dragon has taken roost in a nearby building. We take a rest at the druids home over night, and ready to further investigate the next morning. ... Well that was the worst day i've had in a long while. It started off alright, with us exploring the ruined buildings near by. As it turns out, before I met our group they were informed of an amulet in what used to be the Alchemy shop here in Thundertree. Our Ranger friend was eagerly searching, so I figured I would keep up and give him a hand. Big mistake, as I walk into a building from the opposite entrance of Cocidius, I am attacked by a Giant spider! I am a sliver away from death, so I retreat outside. Shortly after, Cocidius bursts out of the house covered in webs and runs into the trees to the south. I then see the trees come alive as a bunch of spriggan start making there way to us. So now were are fighting somewhere around 8 enemies, we it finally dons on me to shape-shift into my wolf form. This, some proper teamwork and a lot of help from Reidoth the Druid, shifts the battle in our favor. After what seems liked hours we finally emerged victorious, to find out only a few moments have pass. We were spread thin, ambushed twice and outnumbered. Yes, a few of our members went down for a bit (including myself), but were all alive to tell the story. But whats most noticeable to me, is how that situation showed that we can be a great team and work together. I believe we are in for a grand adventure... Falas Taurstrand

Entry 2 of Falas Taurstrand   After resting the night at Reidoths, we decided to finish checking the houses/ruins for the Alchemy hut. After a few zombies in one house, we were in the next opening a hidden compartment with the Amulet. We continued to the east until we find a house that looked as if it has been taken care of (somewhat). Next thing I know Daryk is walking up to the door and Cocidius is out of sight. I expected things to go much worse. Daryk knocked on the door, and was met by a "Cultist". After a few moments the Paladin is inside with the door closed behind him. He returns and explains that they are followers of the green dragon and its "power". We enter a house with swollen doors, to the east of the dragons tower, and fight off a half dozen zombies. We decide to take a short rest before we head off to the dragon. ... During our rest Granny Ava, comes out of hers and meets us in the northeastern building. We talk about the cultists and whether or not we should "deal with them" before the dragon fight. We end up going over to their shack, and Daryk knocks on the door while Cocidius places a trap at the rear door. We establish that they arent going to interfere if we decide to attack the dragon. That was our next course of action. We immediately start heading to the north, where the mechanical paladin starts to bash on his sword and shield. Cocidius, Ava and I, all try and stay hidden behind the trees. The paladin talks and talks to the point where hes listening to the dragon. I was ready for any situation, except for the one where Cocidius fires an arrow at him. But I follow suite and launch a spell at the dragon, which in the end was a bad chioice... The dragon swoops down and with one poisionous breath, takes me and the ranger to the ground. (will finish later)

The dragon seemed to have done nothing wrong! Why did that ranger shoot at it? bad decision as he and falas went down. I think im done with this group. I cant stand the unrighteousness. I think i will set out back to the elven community that made me and see if they need assisstance.