Session #15 as told by Inez

Welcome to the latest chapter of our Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) campaign, set in the legendary world of the Forgotten Realms. This blog serves as a living novel, documenting our journey through the eyes of those who live it. Each session report offers a unique, in-character perspective on the perils and triumphs of adventuring.

Our story follows an unlikely trio of heroes:

• Finn, the streetwise Halfling Rogue with a knack for finding trouble (and exits).
• Jonathan, a devoted Halfling Priest standing as the moral compass of the group.
• Inez, a striving Gnome Wizard whose arcane mastery is often or not the saving grace.

Today’s chronicle is told from the perspective of Inez. Step into her mind as we recount the magic, mystery, and unexpected turns of our latest quest.

 

Jonathan grabs the key

Session #15 as told by Inez

Dear diary,

Today was a hard day for this gnomish adventurer. Though it ended up more or less in the right way, I felt like an ordeal and the last part was like one quite literally. As I am more or less responsible for the mess we’re in, I felt I needed to make up for that. But it cost me an arm and a leg, or more precisely, my neck dear diary. I had to go dwarven-deep and then gnomish-deeper to get us through and keep us together! But let me tell you all.

Yesterday I felt proud as I had managed to cast a magic shelter to keep us safe and allow us to rest. But I had not thought of the Owl Bear cubs. For a little while they sat with me, providing me with warm cushions and a barrier to the halfling men. Not that Jonathan and Finn can not be trusted, and besides, the three of us were dead tired. All that we wanted was to rest and sleep, not even dividing guard duties, nor discuss the role of a certain gnome female in the last days events, let alone meshing gears with one of them. (No further comments, dear diary!)

Just wanting to close our eyes, but it was not to be. Like young kittens, the cubs out of nowhere started chasing each other, hunting invisible vermin, running in and out through the magic facade, like a loose screw got stuck in their tail! Every now and then completely disappearing out of sight, leaving me worried, as I could not search for them without ending the spell. Asking the halfling to look for them did not help, as even Jonathan was annoyed by the critters. He still tried to console me, the good friend he is, still his words brought only false hope and some tears. Finn just laughed at me, telling me he hoped the cubs would stay away so he could sleep. More honest, and much more annoying as always, dear diary. 

With that, I was almost happy when they returned some hours later in a frenzy, invading the tent as a group of Kobolds. If it was their wild behaviour, running us over, or just the fatigue taking over, at that point I could no longer maintain the arcane construct and our shelter collapsed. Forcing us to continue after much sooner than we had hoped for. 

Jonathan lit up a torch instead of using his magic to light up the tunnel, his tiredness was eating his magic reserves too. The path led us further down, through a narrow passage, the ground covered with pebbles and rocks. As a gnome, even a city slicker like me,  I can find my way underground, nevertheless this time clambering down did not come easily. At some point, we toppled a large boulder, starting a small boulderdash. Both Finn and I got hit by stones, painful enough, and a rather big one hit poor Jonathan at his feet. Fortunately he could still walk, be it staggering for a while. It made me learn a new side of my friend and a new repertoire of curses to Chislev and other gods of nature.

Ending up in an underpass we followed the trail of two humans, who had goose-stepped here. We too formed a long line, Finn upfront, followed by Jonathan with Gregot beside him, then me and the rearguard formed by the cubs, still gamboling around. Dog tired as we were, no heed was taken of sounds and cracks in the wand, we just moved forward, one foot at a time. 

And then they were upon us! Six giant rats, much larger than the ones in Ki, came out of nowhere. Considering their size and the fact that three of them were radiating a strange green light, we should have seen them coming, but now it was too late! The only thing I could think of was grabbing my knife and shouting at the cubs to attack them. Which too did remind me of Ki, and which once again paid off badly. In contrast, my halfling companions had a much more adequate response (Which reminds you of Ki, very very nice, dear diary!), Finn lashing out his big chopper and Jonathan casting a powerful spell, each killing a rat instantaneously. Leaving four, that all made their way towards me! 

Somehow I got away with just some bitemarks and scratches on my clothes, and two rats dangling on the leather straps of my boots. Seeing my clothes ruined did not improve my mood, dear diary! Not to mention the cubs leapfrogging for the best position to watch, completely ignoring the vermin!

Wrathful I summoned magical powers, not entirely thinking through the consequences (Guess this reminds you of Ki too, dear diary?), hurling a firebolt at the rats nearby. Watching with content how a rat was scorched. Then realizing that cubs and friends were just as near as the blackened carcass. There was no time for such deliberations however. Three rats once more charged at me, a big green one hurling towards my throat. It landed on my right shoulder, it's nails digging into my skin, then sharp teeth made their way to my neck! A shrill pain slashed through my body into my brain and with the question if my body would be eaten by rats or by the cubs I lost my consciousness, mourned by a diary, a spell book and a grinning idol.Thereupon falling down rather ungracefully this time I’m afraid. 

Opening my eyes again a little later, I was surrounded by blood, gore and carcasses of rats. A warm radiance emerged from Jonathan’s hands into my corpus, as I was lying on the floor as if I had borrowed tinker gnomes wings but forgot the landing gear. The priest was bowing beside me and was calling over Gregot: “Gregot, Inez in pain!”. The little creature appeared in my sight: “Pain?” “Yes, lot’s of pain, Gregot.” It placed a little leaf of its arm at my neck, another one on my arm. A green glow appeared out of the leafs and Gregrot itself and once more warmth enveloped me. “Thank you, thank you very much, Gregot”; I said, getting back up slowly. Not having time, or idea, how to properly thank the Treant properly, my etiquette classes falling short once more. The little creature was making a round, handing out energy and healing wounds seemingly effortless. Finn was treating it with some water, and its little roots gurgled off the floor. A much more practical and appreciated showing of gratitude than my courtly nods and curtsies, dear diary.

Looking round I found my two halfling companions also bruised but still standing. After inquiring about my condition I was filled in the details of their fight with the rats after I passed out. Finn too had a bitemark in the neck, these rats knew how to jump and find vulnerable spots, especially the green tainted ones. One of these was still lying gurgling, vomiting blood and rottenness, at certain moments producing such loud and disturbing sounds, that it caught our attention. A last holler set a golden ring free from its intestines. And who else then Finn was the first to pick it up, examining it by the light of Jonathan’s torch. “There’s something written on the inside; ‘Burton Boot’; wasn’t that the name of one of the guards?” “No, no, that was Yander Boot, their cook, we had a talk about what makes halfling cakes and bakery so good!” The two halflings were like cats, one moment fighting for their lives, the next sleeping or in the case of halflings, discussing food. “Burton and Yander are probably married.”; with that suspicious conclusion Finn slid the gem likewise suspiciously in a pocket of his coat.

“Allow me to examine this corpse, there could be foul magic at play here.”; I told the halflings, wavering them away from the dead vermin. “I need some time to investigate!” Kneeling down I saw Finn stepping away shaking his head, guiding Jonathan by the shoulder. “Let our wizard do her job, this is not something for us, simple souls.” Pesky halfling! Not letting this hinder my concentration, I kneeled down in front of the remains of the foul creature, still illuminating a faint green flow. Got out my spellbook that opened by itself at the correct page, like, why wouldn’t it. I started concentrating on the texts and symbols on the page, trying to ignore the whispers coming from the small black thing. Prickling fingers guided small rays towards the vermin, lighting up the green stripes of its skin. Taking my time I tried to find traces of arcane items or influences, but there were none. Hence I confined the magic flow, bringing it back into my own sphere. Breathing out, opening my eyes, getting back up, turning towards the halfling men: “Not a trace of magic, in this rat.” “Really now, that is a really really useful finding!”; followed the riposte of a cynical rogue.

Looking now at Jonathan and Finn, I saw fresh sweat dripping on their faces. Behind them the floor of the tunnel was filled by a puddle of flesh, hair and bones of what must have been a huge animal. It looked like Moradin had salted away parts of the Great Worm in this tunnel (as High keeper Ironmantle had taught me so many times). “What happened here?”; I inquired in wonder. “While you were doing your wonder stuff, we had to fight off a truly large rat, little princess!” ; Finn retorted, followed by a profanity before walking by the stretched out pile of vermin remains, poking in with his chopper. This took him several steps away from me,  (But I refused to ask a single question about the monster, dear diary!), reaching the cubs, who were nibbling on the remains happily. “No worries, we’ll do the work, come on Jonathan! Let’s collect those rat tails!”

The two halflings walked off to collect rat tails. To find that the green rats had been left alone by the cubs, but others were devoured including their tails. On top of that, the bulky one (Who I secretly call ‘Jonathan’) had eaten one green tail, part of it sticking out of his beak. Head shaking again, Finn could only find three back ends: “And those puffy hatchlings rejected by Tiamat, can we finally chop them up or chase them into the tunnels here? They’re as useful as you, a walking Gnome trick. Plenty of sparkles and rotten smells, but when the blades come out, you’re about as helpful as a dull shiv.” Adding to the insult, he then threw a bloodied piece of what had apparently once been a giant rat at me, hitting and smudging my jacket. “Why did you do that for? You ruined my jacket, you little thief!” This was beyond pesky, dear diary!

Only by stepping between the two of us, Jonathan managed to take the sting out of our dispute, hushing and salving, at last appeasing the rogue and me: “Are you guys ready as well? Adventure!" For all that, it sounded like he had to convince himself too. It did the job and I was thankful for that. From there on the trail of human steps was easy enough to follow. The tunnel grew wider and our predecessors had walked side by side from here. Dust had gathered here for ages and their steps were clearly visible. My dwarven friend Thorga would have said: “If the trail’s obvious, it’s either goblins, orcs, or your own stupidity.” And she pretended to have visited her family in Citadel Felbar, but I always doubted that, dear diary.

After walking for quite some time, every now and then crossing old sewers, there was a series of turns and curves, before we entered a large rectangular marbled room. The insides were decorated lavishly with mosaics, floor and plafond showing abstract patterns, the walls had large pictures beset within the forms. Strangely no dust was found on the floor and the atmosphere too was clean in an unnatural way. Sunk in the floor were four large baths, each the size of a small pool, with its own steps to enter. On the far side was a large two piece door, closed and its golden lock was designed and lavishly decorated to tell any rogue: “You better find the key.”

Walking through the room we found the baths filled with different coloured water: Clear, milky white, azure blue and the radiant green the rats had shown earlier. Particularly that last one looked very unpleasant, and that was to put it mildly. With the help of an untaught sign language, adopted because it either was wise to limit sounds or we were still a bit agitated, tasks were divided. The opulent decorated lock was to be inspected and hopefully cracked by Finn. Jonathan walked over to the baths and I was to investigate the illustrations on the wall. 

The monochrome decorations depicted figures dressed in mantles and hooded, in an abstract style that the figures could be specimens of almost any species. Clearly the scenes took place in this room, with groups of robed people standing around the pools. Some of the figures were walking into the baths, others watching or ushering as well, holding staves of some kind. The seriousness indicated a religious or arcane ritual being depicted, the figures being allowed through the door after immersing several baths. All of that repeated in manyfold, differencing in sizes and color. And that was all I could make of it. So much for my talents as a guide and source of knowledge, dear diary.

Meanwhile Jonathan had been dipping stones in the different baths. When I rejoined him, he showed me proudly how the different fluids changed the color of a stone, dipping and mixing, with no lasting effect on the stone. Except for the greenish tint, that like tar kept stuck on it. “Inez, do you think these rats bathed in the green water?”; though naive, it was actually a good question for the priest. “I don’t know, that might have been the cause of their coloring and behaviour. The only thing I still know for sure, is that I don’t know a lot.” “Or is there someone around who paints the rats with this water?” Fleeing for his questions, I headed for Finn, only to find more questions. “Can you read the runes on the lockplate?”; the rogue asked. And as our faces met when I too bowed to inspect the lock, our eyes did too, and I swallowed an insult that I had prepared. “Let me have a go at it.”; I answered, studying the door and its lock. It was hard to tell at what point the lock started, its ornamentation covered a major part of the door. Obviously dwarven made, metals, stone, gems and wood were interwoven, adornments depicting heroes fighting monsters and rune inscriptions, technically perfect, stylishly overdone and lacking humor. “No, no, the runes over here, in the hand of the handle.”; the rogue was pointing at the handshaped decoration at the end of the lever, an open hand with runes inscribed in the palm and fingers.    

“These are dwarven for sure.”; I stated and immediately regretted it. “Well, you don’t need to be a beholder to see that”; Finn sneered: “But what’s written?” Blushing, teeth gritting, I tried to decipher the runes. That the Idol had started whispering in my ears eary messages the moment I started looking into the runes did not help either. Not that I was going to share that with this companion. And of course these runes were of an age or dialect or perhaps even deliberately encrypted that the most I could make of it was that its message was probably a strong warning not to try to pick this lock. Not scoring points with a certain halfling, dear diary. “And over here, what do you make of the illustrations on the walls?”; Finn took me by the arm and led me to Jonathan, who was admiring one of the bigger images, between the passage where we had entered and the first bath. “Well, they seem to depict a ritual, either magical, religious or a mix. There are no symbols indicating which god or what type of arcane school, no clues of number or order of baths, other than they are always four grouped together. And a closed door on one side, an opened one on the other.”; trying to sound like my father did in court, an articulated staccato, I tried to impress the two men. Without very much success. 

“So, someone or something has to take a bath or two and the door opens? That’s easy!”; Jonathan was already on his way. “Wait, wait, this stuff could be poison or worse. You can’t just step in!”; running and yelling after him, I was in time to prevent him from stepping into the first one. “Finally a valid point! We can’t just step in, we’re no rocks and no rats. But we do have three fine species here!”; Finn tried to pick up one of the cubs, but had to let go as it snapped at him. “We’re not gonna put the cubs into the tubs!”; I howled at him. “Why not? They’re not of very much use to us anyway. And on top of that: they smell worse than trolls!” ”If stench is the criterion, I would say that a certain halfling man would be our first choice!”; stepping between the rogue and the cubs, I took a hopefully deterrent enough stand. 

“No, no, no, that’s not needed. I will take the baths.”; once more Jonathan stepped in as mediator. “No, no, that would be too dangerous.”; I responded; “Perhaps Gregot could try?” Now two angry halflings were at me. And I do admit, dear diary, that it was not a very friendly or grateful suggestion from my side. And to my own wonderment I managed to step back, apologizing to Jonathan, Finn and even Gregot. As the storm settled, Finn let Gregot have some more water. The little plant-creature let out a friendly ‘Gregot!’ looking appeased, even with me. “Look, this baths are entirely fine and safe.”; Jonathan steered us along the pools, each time dipping a finger in, pulling it out, then showing us: ”The pure water, the bat milk, the melted sky, and the rat paint. All safe, only the last one sticks a bit to your skin and clothes.” “How did you come up with, with well,  those names?”; I asked dumbfounded. “Chislev told me, how else?”; the priest's answer left me dumbfounded and speechless. 

“So, who will do it then? If you need a bit of privacy, we can wait outside the room, my princess!” Finn’s swaggering statement broke the silence. “Well, I will do it!” I had made my mind up, being responsible for us being here and wanting to add my share. “You can stay here, I’ll leave my clothes on. In fact, I’ll even put on the hood, like the bathers do in the pictures.” No challengers nor objections from the halflings, I tried to interpret that as a positive sign (Hush, diary). “Let’s attach this rope to your middle, we can pull you out if needed.”; Finn wanted to strike the iron when it’s hot. And there I was, like I was the golden Carp caught by the two halflings at Nook’s fishing pond, standing in front of the steps of the first pool, filled with clear water.

Before stepping in I buttoned up my jacket, raised the hood over my head, susurating a prayer towards Azuth, adding one to Helm for all time’s sake. The moment the water started running into my boots I felt the cold biting my skin. Somehow my fears did not overbear me, step by step I went further and deeper into the pool. Breathing in once more, before going under completely. Looking up, sunken, the water surface refracted the light into hundreds of illusions. Each of these showing a different path, a divergent track that I could have taken or should take, overwhelming and bewildering. As it was impossible to pick or find the right one.

Snorting and grunting I lay on the floor, on the edge of the pool that Jonathan and Finn had pulled me out of. Carefully they helped me up, bombarding me with questions that I waved away. Albeit feeling even more weakened and drained, I knew this had been only the first test of four, I just had to pull through. Shambling to the next bath, I sensed the warmth of Jonathan’s magic glowing around my body, however could not place what effect it had, besides the glow. Some blessing of a sort? The nature of his magic was beneficent and generous, in contrast to the arcane extravaganza of a certain young gnome lady, point taken, dear diary!

The blue surface of the melted sky hid the tips of my shoes the moment they went under. Not as cold, or was I getting used to this, I thought, do continue, do continue. The blue goo sent phantasms and mirages through my skin into my body, into my mind. Dancing around in my brain, Talontar priests sang songs about the loss of health and youth, the loss of beauty, at the same time inviting me, trying to seduce me. Closing my eyes, trying to push these nightmares out of my head, I heard my fathers pleas and speeches in city council and court. Thankfully I was pulled out again, this time I managed to use the steps in the bath to get out of the blue faster. Gasping for air the moment my head got out, scared and cold to the core.

“Let’s do this one, before I relinquish.”; I said, more to myself than to my two companions. We walked the path between the previous two pools towards the third, filled with the ominous green. Staring down, I once more prayed to the gods, adding one to Mystra as every bit counts, again forcing myself to start walking. The green sludge bit, gnawed and stung! Burning my skin where it licked or touched. The only thing I could do was grit my teeth and march. Holding my breath as I dove under, pulling the rope, getting out of the basin as soon as possible!. Crashing in front of the halfling men, cussing and crying for minutes before I came back to my senses. 

“Gregot, pain!!”; I heard beside me,where Jonathan was instructing the treant. The little creature gently placed two of its leaves on my hands. A subtle wave of its hands initiated a greenish glow, followed by a heat that drove away most of my pain. For a while I remained seated on the floor, my hands round my knees, breathing slowly. Finally opening my eyes, I saw there was still some green on my clothes, and where it had left, the cloth had been blackened and ruined. My skin was still itching, but further undamaged, most likely thanks to Gregot. “Yes, you look quite the daredevil now!”; Finn gave out, catching my looks. “Only one to go, this one will be easy. At home you probably bathe in donkey milk before attending a ball?” Annoying and comforting me at the same time, I had no stamina left to come up with a proper response. 

Standing up I looked both Jonathan and Finn in the eyes before I regained the audacity to walk over to the last bath. The few steps towards it, my legs were shaking and only the presence of my companions made me go through with it. The silky water did look like donkey milk, I told myself, you can do this. This time it started with an itch, just a prickling sensation at places. Halfway this irritation changed into a biting pain! Fireside stories of  Drowspawn’s Itch, the poison of our dark underground kin, came back into my mind. Only with the last of my determination I forced myself under! Pulled out once more just before passing out. 

Blowing and puffing for air, I laid on my back. Wearied to the bone and my body aching, all I could think of was ‘Had it worked?’: “Did the door open?” “No, not yet, but open your eyes and look up!” Jonathan was pointing upwards. Above me, hovering underneath the high ceiling, was a key. Its collar and shank were decorated in the same style as the door’s lock, completed by a large bow filled with stones.”So get up, get your reward!” Alas, as I tried to get up, my body refused: “Won’t do, too much pain.” “Gregot, can you help out Inez again, she’s in pain.”; appealed the priest. “Gregot, gregot.”; the creature made clear that its arcane energies were worn out. Being watered by Finn did not help, or at least not immediately, Gregot did enjoy it. “Let us help you.” Jonathan and Finn each took one arm and lifted me up. “You’ve done a good job, red!” “Yes, Inez, that was really brave of you!” The compliments of both men brought water into my eyes. Biting my lips, I avoided shedding tears: ”Let’s get that key!”

My reward, as Jonathan had called it, was floating over our heads, just out of grabs for halflings or gnomes. “Inez, we will lift you up, so you can grab it!”; Jonathan was once more full of initiative, his lust for adventure propelling him. However the wet, slippery marble floor was not a good place to do circus stunts. Let alone with the person to be lifted bruised beforehand. “Give me some space, please.”; I asked; “Jonathan, move there, right below the key.” Picking up my backpack I took out the spellbook, its weight and touch a welcome sensation in my hands. Opening it I found the spell, and the energy to cast it, raising Jonathan off the floor. Concentrating to steer him smoothly until he was within reach. “Ouch, this thing is hot like lava!”; he cried upon touching it. Then surprising me once again by using his cloak to ensnare the key. As an accomplished wizard I somehow made him land softly. Was there still some hope for me, dear diary?

Next to us Finn had searched his backpack for one of the red potions. “See if this brings some strength back!”; he announced and before we could make any amendments, he washed it down. “Are you alright?”; I enquired. “Yes, this is better!”; he replied, flexing his muscles, showing off. (He really did look more muscular, dear diary, and I leave it there.) “Now show me that key!” As requested by Finn, Jonathan carefully arranged his cloak on the floor, then opened it up, revealing the key. Sitting next to it, kneeling on the floor, I moved my right hand index finger closer, careful not to touch it. There was a hint of magic, still nothing that caused pain let alone lava. Placing my finger down at the stone grip,from there moving it the full length of the shank, nothing happened. 

Picking up the key, then storing it into my pouch, I proposed to my companions: “We need to rest first. Let’s set up camp here, it feels like a safe enough spot.” And even without having arranged for food, the halflings agreed. This group of adventurers was as empty as a beer barrel after a dwarven party, the spring of our clockwork had sprung, we were desperate for a rest. Even the dartling cubs did not annoy Finn anymore, a bad sign. 

So we prepared our camp in front of the door, dear diary. Praying the gods for a long rest. Too tired to think this all through, feeling a little proud of my perseverance, still also worried for what is lying in front of us. And with that, I end for today. Next time! 

Session #14 as told by Inez

Welcome to the latest chapter of our Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) campaign, set in the legendary world of the Forgotten Realms. This blog serves as a living novel, documenting our journey through the eyes of those who live it. Each session report offers a unique, in-character perspective on the perils and triumphs of adventuring.

Our story follows an unlikely trio of heroes:

• Finn, the streetwise Halfling Rogue with a knack for finding trouble (and exits).

• Jonathan, a devoted Halfling Priest standing as the moral compass of the group.

• Inez, a wannabe Gnome Wizard whose arcane mastery or lack of it is often our saving grace.

Today’s chronicle is told from the perspective of Inez. Step into her mind as we recount the magic, mystery, and unexpected turns of our latest quest.

Dear Diary,

As I’m writing this, we’re all sitting in a tent-like structure that I’ve created magically. Which makes me proud, for it shows my growth as a wizard. But I should not revel in this, like a goblin doing bookkeeping, I managed to screw up again. At least by providing shelter for our group, I compensate for it a little. And have time to tell you how this all came to be.

This morning we awoke in terrible mood and circumstances. All night rain had come down in buckets and the field where we had camped had changed into a quagmire. As if Talos wanted to bless us for looting the underground greenhouse and the clothing shop in Ki! Not even the quality of my ‘Tinker's Trail Gear’ tent, nor my skills learned as Gnomish girl scouts of Nook, had prevented my shelter from partially collapsing. Once more my presumed skills were found lacking.

Not that I needed this to ruin my nightrest, my nightly companions were capable of doing that by themselves. The idol was humming in my head, insinuating that I should have taken care of the two gnomes instead of letting them go with my gold. Calling me a weakling for caring for Lilly, calling my hesitations wanted potential: “Why do you hesitate, little spark?” And then there were the books. The goblin one I still haven't dared to open, feeling its potency as I touch it, and even closed it sighs and hisses at me. My own spellbook, if I can claim ownership, opens itself, pages flipping swiftly, then stopping. At times when I doze off for a little, I dream the quill appears adding texts and spells to the book. When I try to find these pages back, the book does not allow me, skipping over sections or sticking pages together. Showing me new spells that I’m sure were not in there before, murmuring these in my ears when I close my eyes. Oh diary, I remember wishing I was a wizard, but at this moment...

Once outside my tent, I found that poor Finn and even poorer Jonathan had it worse, weatherwise, they were completely soaked and shivering. And on top of that, we were out of proviand, and halflings missing meals are no good company! The three cubs had clung together during the night and were reasonably alright, still also snappy for lack of food. Not to mention their smell! The only one happy not to say radiant was Gregot, who was literally sparkling joy, stepping into the puddles and plashes. Looking at the little treant, I could spot little roots sticking out of its feet like branches, sucking up water.

As the tradition prescribed, we started a discussion about our next plan. With a Finn that was even more strong headed and grumbling than normal. “Why are my plans always ignored? There’s a big treasure hidden here in the woods, just for the taking. How come you won’t join me in finding it?” “Well, because there’s probably a search party after us. The inhabitants of a certain town are looking for the ones who robbed a store and almost killed the owner. And that was all initiated by a certain rogue seeking treasures in places.”; I tried to argue with him. Only to become part of a blame game. “Oh, and wasn't I instructed to do so by a certain young lady pretending to lead our expedition? Gathering papers to expose a big scheme of fraud?”; he reposted, frustrating me by having at least half a point. “Well, however it all came to be, still, you want to trust the whisperings of these jackall-faced-humans above the arguments of your friends?” Luckily Jonathan was on my side this time, and lastly Finn gave in, gritting his teeth. 

Consequently we headed out in the direction of Magki. And were bailed out by Gregot, who saved the day by its warmth and charms, dropping in on people with its one word conversations: “Good? Good!”, “Pain? Pain?”, “Gregot, Gregot!”. Topping it with his arcane powers, restoring health and energy as easily as counting the Elven helpers of a Dwarven miner, as my father would have said. Simply by touching you with one or two leaves, energy would flow into your body. Extremely pleasant and welcome and annoying at the same time, how could such a creature have such powers? And how could I properly and gracefully thank it, none of my lessons in etiquette had covered this type of creature and behavior. I know, I know, dear diary, apparently nearing a city makes the Velvet Viper (as a certain halfling would say) in me come to life.

After half a day of walking, and fortunately it stopped raining after a few miles, we spotted the outskirts of Magki when we left the forest. The view of the city and its river splitting it in two, streaming towards the sea, was a welcome sight, somehow we had made it to our first destination! Still, exhaustion hit us hard, as we had walked fast and furious, and without a proper meal. First priority was to find a place that served decent food!

Walking into the partly walled outskirts of the city, we found that this was a more diversified and sophisticated place than old Nook. Exponents of nearly all races known in the world (You’re right, dear diary, I’m exaggerating, but it was so good to be back in a true city!) were walking through its streets. And even our group blended in, even though Gregot and the Owl Bear cubs were looked upon every now and then.  We did not pass any gate guard, nor did I  spot any city militia or watchmen. Which was good, hopefully did this mean that this town was reasonably safe and that no one was looking out for us.

Searching for an inn, our fatigue and the circumstance that our sight was blocked by the lanky ladders, humans and other tall folks, that made the majority of Magki’s inhabitants, made us fail even this simple task. Finn’s attempt to query a halfling carrying a shovel led, to his surprise, to a rude, unfriendly conversation with the only result that there for sure was an inn nearby called the Otter’s mug. Any appeal for further directions or help were shooshed away. Walking back to us, Finn was gesturing and cursing under his breath. “Talking to that man is like talking to a wizard. At best you receive a riddle that turns out to be a curse in disguise, a serpent’s sparkle.” He ended his scolding with a spit on the ground, a kiss on his metal medaillon and a puff in my direction. Parried by a cynical smile from a certain gnome lady his way. This pesky halfling, dear diary!

Myself, I was on the look out for a more higher class member of Magki, preferably of the small folk type, to address. However, I spotted none, no gnome, dwarf or even human member of the Magki beau monde was to be found in the streets. By chance, a Gnomish market trader passed by, dragging a handcart. “Maps un poshuns!”; the urchin was shouting and written on the banner of the cart.”Dear sir”; I said to him; “How are you? You seem to sell maps and potions. Do you also buy these?”. “No, no, no, young lady, we’re only selling. Selling is our business. Are you in need of a map? Or a guide for that matter?” “Well sir, a map that could lead us to the Light Academic tower, that could help us. The Tower is our next intended station.””So so, well, for sure we can provide a map. Let me try to find one.” The gnome’s head disappeared behind the cover of the kart that he had opened. Next to me Jonathan was mumbling to himself, his hands and fingers drawing strange figures in the air in front of us. The head of the gnome reappeared and I tried to see what my friend the priest saw. To me the gnome still looked young, unfortunately not a very attractive specimen of our species. But no traces of deception, or none that I could see. If Jonathan was right, I should learn his skill of detecting this most urgently, dear diary! 

“This is a nice and useful map of routes from Magki towards the Tower, lady, halfling sir. It will show you the paths there. Its base is a copper engraving printed a few years ago, recently updated and colored by hand. It’s yours for a mere two gold coins. And are you sure you don’t need a guide?. Hire me, and I’ll lead you all there.” The map he had in his hands was contained in a scroll tube which showed the symbol of a tower. “And how old are you?”; Jonathan asked the seller. “A low onehonderdandsixtysix.”; was the answer. Jonathan tapped my shoulder: “Inez, this man is lying about his age!” “Well, probably all men do?” I replied. “No, no, no, he is really really much older! He’s hiding something!”. And indeed did the face not fit the looks of the youngling. But I was too exhausted to investigate this fellow gnome. 

“That’s quite the price, young man. And what would it cost if you were to guide us?” “Just a basic gold coin per day. And it will save you days!”; “And where would we find you if we would require such services?””Well, right here and now, young lady!”; evidently this man had an urgent need for adventure. “Oh excuses, I did not make myself entirely clear. First we need to rest and feed ourselves. We’re in need to find an inn called the Otter’s mug. Can you provide us with a map of the local area as well?” “A map of Bounndaville, for sure! Let’s see where that one is.” With that answer his head once more was hidden by the lifted top cover, but only for a very brief moment. “Here’s that one. It will show you the way to your inn and some other localities. I’ll make you a bargain: The two maps for two and half gold coins!” Even though this second map was just a rolled up parchment that had been through more tavern brawls than a drunken halfling, my weariness convinced me this was an offer not to refuse. “I’ll take them, thank you.” Handing over the money I received the maps and a farewell: “I’ll leave you, dear travelers. With these maps you’ll find your inn for sure, and the Tower with difficulties. Find me, and those difficulties will be mitigated. Till then!” Picking up the handle of the kart, he disappeared into the crowd. 

Storing the tube in my jacket I rolled the other map open and started navigating. The group followed me, like Goblins after a shiny bauble. Judiciously I somehow managed to read the directions right and we found our way round some corners onto a square. At the end of it the inn was visible, its wooden top floor sticking out above the adjoining buildings. Its stone base looked old, older than the surroundings, made from rocks and boulders that must have been carried by giants. “There it is, just a few steps away from a meal and bed!”; I exuberantly cheered. But once more I was proven far too optimistic, dear diary.

Just a few steps away from the inn, we witnessed an old human man being pulled into an alley by two figures. A short deliberation by looking each other in the eyes later, Jonathan spurted into the pathway (‘We must support the weak’), followed by Finn (‘Got your back, you fool’) and me (‘How do I convince myself that this is the right thing?’). Some steps into the passageway we overtook the trio. The old man was leaning against one of the walls, with next to him a Duergar, her build and hair style suggested that she was female. Also her attire gave some hints in that direction, but was not something I would like to wear in public. Though it’s hard to tell with them, it would have helped if my good friend Thorga had been here. 

In front of them was a tiefling, the best kind of trouble! As my mother would say: “Like a music box that might sing you a poem or might burn down your house.” Her outfit was gorgeous though, loved her long coat with tail slits, the gemstone inlaid rings on her horns (Don’t ask, dear diary.). Perhaps I should have taken more interest in the weaponry both of them carried, instead of their fashion state. Point taken, dear diary.

Leading us, Jonathan addressed the two captors: “Let that man go! As Chislev would say: ‘Without violence and greed, all people and nature would live in peace.” To no avail though: “Don't you have enough problems of your own, priest? I would say so, looking at your troop!”; the Tiefling laughed him in the face. And kept laughing in spite of Finn backing up Jonathan. The priest however was unstirred, convinced he had to fulfill his duty to his god. Grabbing with one hand the chain around his neck, he used magic to boost his voice to put his message through: “Let go of this man...” Jonathan’s tiding thundered between the walls of the five step wide alley to great effect. Only to shrink into “.. or else we will...”, the last part shrieking and whining. A grinning tiefling pointing at her ears, then winking at my two halfling companions. 

With that I decided to assist, safely behind the cover of the halflings. The tiefling held her ground, standing three steps away from Jonathan and Finn. Behind her the gray-skinned grump was holding the old human. I took my spell book in hand and concentrated. Though worn-out as I felt, the small illusion was easily cast; the snarls and howls of dogs could be heard, getting nearer with every bark! Still, the tiefling once more was unimpressed. Pointing at me, she shouted: “Back off, your pathetic magic tricks won’t fool us!” Infuriated, Finn roused his magic knife, its purple glow irradiating the alley: “And what will happen if we don’t back off, spiky?” “We owe you no explanation or nothing, brawler. Big Gustava, take this man away.”; the tiefling ordered the duergar to walk the man away from us. And confirmed my hunch. 

The three of them started making small steps away from us, and we looked indecisively at one another. “Stop, or I’ll set the Owl Bears on you!”; was my feeble attempt, that only led to squawking behind me and the tiefling shaking her head. “Pussies”; she contemptuously hollered out at us. Which was the last drop in the alchemist’s flask! An angered Finn let his dagger fly out towards the tiefling, who hissed as she was hit. Still reacted without delay, throwing one of hers towards the rogue, lightly wounding him in return. Both Jonathan and I tried, like kobolds in a fireworks factory, to cast a manipulative spell at the tiefling and her accomplice, to no avail. To add salt to the wound, and wounding me regardless, Big Bertha charged in wielding a maul, swinging it around her head, sparks slivering where it hit the walls. Rushing into the halflings, pushing them aside (like halflings, I know, that's not fair of me, dear diary.). Coming after me like a vengeful Kobold, hitting my left shoulder hard! Only the narrowness of our battlefield saved me from instant oblivion.

With one opponent rushing into melee, the other had other plans.The tiefling made an acrobatic salto backwards, creating more distance between her and the brawl. Sitting on one knee, hands leaning on the ground, the foul stench of the bystreet brought me back to my senses. Opening my eyes I noticed the tiefling’s right hand making subtle gestures. Looking up at Finn, our eyes entangled for a second. “Of course he will take care of me”; my thought somehow found its way to him at that moment. (Now don’t become cynical, dear diary.) And a gulf of magical energy hit us a second later, with no harm done! Somehow we had warded off the tieflings' arcane attack, the effect no more than a warm glow on our skin.  And like a shot the fight had started, so did it end. After seeing her spell leading to no effect, the tiefling ran away, prompting the duergar to follow. Leaving us with the old man in the now quiet back street. No onlookers or guards were interested in some small folks having a strong argument. Not even with a human involved. This was a very discrete city. 

When visiting a town these days, I’m treated to brawls and clashes, fighting strangers and monsters. It used to be tea rooms and balls, fighting off gnomish suitors. Will have to take under consideration which of the two I actually prefer, dear diary.

After regaining my posture somewhat, I looked around. Pragmatic as ever, Finn was collecting the knives that had been thrown around, and I thought I even saw Jonathan following his example, picking up the maul the gray-skinned-grump called Berta had dropped. The cubs were skittering around, looking for food amongst the rubble in the edges of the alley. As expected, Gregot was the only one doing really helpful work, offering two of its leaves to Finn, that as he took and placed them on his arm, stopped the bleeding of his wounds.  As a way of thanking, Jonathan sprankled the tree-creature with some water, to its palpable pleasure, its tiny stalks and twigs moving like it was dancing: “Gregot!” Clearly now in a cheerful mood, it walked over to me, planting a leaf on each of my feet. The instant the roots of the leaves pricked my skin, I could feel myself revivify, shaking off my pain. “Thank you, Gregot”; was my true but meager recognition. Still, I remain just a bit jealous about the power of this little plant and I don’t like to be touched without my advance consent. Especially in the case of halflings.

Meanwhile the creaky tall guy had seated himself against one wall, and looked at us bewildered, then asked Finn: “What plans are afoot? Balance, balance...” “What are you babbling about, old man, are you alright?”; the rogue responded, trying to help the man to his feet. Which is always a challenge, helping a long-leg up as a small folk. The two of them were now performing a strange dance, bouncing from one wall to another while trying to remain standing. “My stick, my stick.” Lying in front of my feet I spotted an old cane, picking it up and pressing it in the hand of the man just before they tumbled. That saved them from falling and gave Finn the opportunity to snitch his wallet. ‘A typical halfling handshake’ my father would have said.

Once in control of the stick, the man seemed to be in control of his movements too. Not of his babblings though: “This must be the end of all times...”What’s your name, old man?” Finn tried another time. “Oh, it’s, Kal, Kal with an ‘a’. What has happened who are you?” As my halfling friends and I tried to explain to him the fight and us rescuing him, he kept mixing lucid questions with illusionary remarks: “Who attacked me? We must search the mage, otherwise..” The instant that we stepped out of the alleyway and the inn came in sight, our new found friend’s mood sprung up: “We need a drink, I’ll buy you one!”.

Following the long steps of Kal, we reached the entrance of the Otter’s mug. He led us in a steep tempo through the crowded floor, using his cane to create a path. Pushing aside tall and small folk alike, as all kinds of races were visiting this establishment. Routing us to a free table somewhere in the middle of the tavern. Since it was a ‘tall table’, we had to climb the chairs around it, however this had the flip side that cubs and Gregot could be hidden under. Looking around the manifold and diversity of the clientele was something I had never seen, not even at the largest feasts in Nook. 

And fur sure, I could also spot a few gnomes sitting or standing in one quarter or the other. Did not dare to look long, not wanting to take the risk of having to go into details about my ancestry and whereabouts. Sitting surrounded by a wall of small and mostly tall folks, I was more or less safe from spying eyes. Contrariwise, I could hardly catch a glimpse of the inn itself, just the higher parts. The wooden ceiling was just that, beam after beam, high enough to accommodate the likes of a goliath. Sure, fair point, dear diary, it’s not that I have ever seen one in real life. Despite the height, the temperature and scent in the hall made you wonder if a pack of hell hounds were hiding here.

Before I could put together a mental map of the place, my thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a waitress: “Welcome, dear visitors. You brought new friends Kal? The name is Axyss. What may I serve you?” “Axyss?”; I blurted out without thinking, looking up only to find that this was a whole different Axyss than the one in Ki. A robust female human specimen, as blond as the other one black haired was. Placing four large pints of ale on the table with an amicable curtsy.  Followed by a lot less friendly: “Well little ones, since you’re new here, you two, no climbing on the bar and if you can’t reach the table, you can’t steal the food, or other stuff.” The last three words articulated and a finger pointed at Finn. “And you, there’ll be no riding the cats or the dog. They’re no ponies.” This one was for Jonathan, and missed the underlying menace. “As for you my lady, no accidental fires, this inn is not your workshop. And no other businesses either, the cathouse is around the corner.” Before I could recover or react from the insult, insults even, she continued: “Four ale then, Kal? And something to eat?” “Not food for me, thanks!”; the old man replied, outcried by two halflings ordering ale, meals and cheese. “And the lady?” “May I please have a decent meal for a decent lady, and I’ll have some ale as well, your wine is probably only fit for stripping rust off a troll’s armor.”; I requested icily. “Very well, I leave the little ones to you, Kal!”; the waitress grinned and vanished. 

“There’s no harm in that, little lady.” ; Kal reassured me; “A lot of strange folks visit this place. We Boundas, have learned to bark a little at strangers first. That way we keep the good ones in Boundaville and make the others cross the river to Magki Center! And normally I bring friends, that’s safer too.” “Which friends? Would love to meet them!”; Jonathan joined. “Well, they’re a bit strange, but small folks as well! A tiefling and a dwarf-like type called Gustava, nice ladies.” “What do you say? We just redeemed you from these two, had to fight them in that alley!”; now Finn was in as well. “No, no, no, that can’t be true. They’re my friends!” “But we saw you being robbed.”; I added. (That was no lie, dear diary, hush!) “No, no, no, you must be wrong!”; but the ragged old man had lost his appetite; “Have to leave, will pay for the drinks, you pay for your food. It was nice meeting you.” And with no further courtesies left our table. Leaving two halflings and me for a quiet meal. Myself contemplating if we had just added another felony to our list by saving someone who does not want or need saving? Every place I visit I run off as a lawbreaker, dear diary! Start to wonder whether I’m a goblin instead of a gnome!

Our plates were cleared the moment we finished our last bite, by two young human boys, without saying a word. It felt almost like at home where our servants would also serve quietly. But these stiltwalkers rattled plates, dropped forks and cups like a gremlin in a box gone haywire! And they were followed up instantly by Axyss: “There's a gentleman named Carlach who likes to have a word with the three of you. Please follow me.” Her look shut down all our potential protests or questions, with a shrug we let ourselves glide off the chairs and walked after her.

Axyss did not need a cane to create a path through the crowd, people stepped out of the way as if pushed by an unseen servant (which perhaps was the case, I now realise, dear diary.). And nobody made remarks or asked questions as this strange procession, tailed by Gregot and the cubs, passed.

We ended in a quiet side room, oblong in shape, after passing a dark curtain. On the right far side a lonely man was sitting, eating a big slice of meat. A bottle of wine was standing on the table, a glass was in his right hand. Both bottle and glass looked expensive, of a kind I had not seen before in this inn. Expensive outfit, out of date, not a good fit. No weapon was on him, no guard in sight. Plopped down in this wall of cushions like a dragon who’s given up flying and taken to hoarding pastries instead of gold. “Thank you Axyss, and could you bring the lady and gentlemen a round of ale please?. And welcome to the three of you, have a seat!” Carlach’s polite formulated salutation was like a set of commands. Placing myself at a cushion next to him, reminding me of appeasing angry customers at my fathers office, followed by Jonathan. Finn remained standing, even when Axyss returned with three mugs of ale. He picked up one mug from the table, as did Jonathan and I. “I see the three of you pulling it off.” ; the fat human said, “If someone can do it, it’s you three.” The three of us looked at one another confused, then three pairs of eyes looked back at the man. “And there’s a reward, a serious reward. This contains one thousand gold coins.” Saying that, he placed a little green pouch at the table; “This could be yours.You’ve got to make a problem disappear...” 

“Do we have to kill a dragon?”; was probably the worst question at the worst time only Jonathan could ask, and it worked. Roaring with laughter our host looked at us: “That could just be the case. And I could see you pull it off. Hah! The name is Carlach, as you’ve probably been told. No need for your names, we’ll see to that when, if, you make it back.” He paused, took a sip of his wine, shook his head. “The problem is, there's a hole. A big deep hole, at a spot just yesterday stood a shed. Noises were heard, guards went in, more noises were heard, no guards came out. And with that, how would I put this, as long as there's that hole, Magki’s council won't take over this quarter, and I won't be rewarded, and that's a problem in need of a solution.”

“And that's where you come in. Get into the hole, get rid of the hole, come back and collect this bag. Simple, no questions asked, no fine print.” His mouth and eyes closed, for a little while he fell still, contemplating or conspiring. My brain was racing, even split in three this amount would suffice for paying off the dress. Or a couch home or far away. “We’re your solution!”; I heard myself say, to the amazement and horror of the two halflings. “Good, bring me the contract !”; a snip of his fingers and a servant appeared, handing over a scroll. “Please sign here, lady.” At last, someone not addressing me with ‘little’, dear diary!

Scanning the text on the unrolled paper, I spotted no articles that were out of order or unjust. Ignoring Finn’s gestures I accepted the quill, dipped it in the ink, and placed an autograph. “Well, that's settled. Now these men will escort you to the entrance of the hole. Good luck!” “Right now? We were planning on a good night's rest and breakfast first!”; both halflings protested vehemently; “Inez, tell him we're exhausted!” But my attempt to convince Carlach was to no avail: “It’s right here: service starts immediately when mutual agreement is reached. Take them!” At his command, three guards, all human and appearing out of nowhere and all too capable, joined us, escorting us and our companions out through a backdoor. A proper exit, having failed once more as leader and negotiator.

Our prolonged procession took us through streets that became more empty with every corner. Again no questions were asked, until we reached another group of three guards. And behind them: The hole. A maw shaped dark emptiness in the ground, surrounded by the remains of a stone building. “That looks like the entrance to the smuggler tunnels near the riverside of Nook.”; popped into my mind. Finn had connected our minds again, without advance consent (Why would you ask permission, dear diary), and very smart and useful at this point (And point taken, dear diary!). “It resembles the entrance of my grand-aunts home, just outside town. My grand-uncle never finished the entrance.She used to make the best pies that we would sell on market-days..” Clearly Jonathan had entered the inter-mind-counsel too.

The three guards were wearing the same surcote on top of their rag tag clothes and armor. Just as they were carrying various weapons that looked ready to be used. “Are these the three?”; the tallest one asked. “Yes sarge, here's the paperwork.”; the scroll, signed by a certain gnome lady, was handed over. The tall one started reading: “So you are the hirelings? And these are your names?” Though his pronouncement revealed that his reading skills were not that good, it also revealed that I had not checked the names on the contract. “Let me see that!”; I almost cried and to my surprise, the paper was handed over. “Distract them!”; I ‘thought’ to Finn and Jonathan, somehow successfully. “Hi guys, you must be pretty bored, standing here all day. Want to see a nice trick?”; Finn took out one of the strange pebbles he kept and used for practice shooting. Expecting me to acknowledge every hit with a rewarding sigh or praise, boring to look at as it was. But luck was once more on our side, as the guards gathered around him, leaving me unattended and unwatched. 

While the rogue was demonstrating his skills at shooting at floating pebbles with his sling, I held up the contract with both hands, clearly showing that I was just reading. All the time using the magic quill to change the names on the contract into ours. As the men grew tired of throwing rocks at rocks (Need I say more, dear diary?), I handed over the paper, rolled back into its tube to the sergeant: “That’s right, that’s us.” Leaving him and poor Jonathan glassy eyed behind. “So men, what happened here?”; Finn inquired, as he was now part of the gang. “Let me tell you!; the sergeant started rambling; “Yesterday night, a terrible crash was heard, people gathered and found this shed in ruins, and this crater in its midst. A sinkhole, they said, until the most terrible howling could be heard coming from below. So, three of my men were sent in.” “If it just had been men..”; one of the guards interrupted him. “Caca was one of them. She’s brave and a better fighter than most of us. She wanted to go herself.  But I should have never  let her do so...”; the sergeant’s voice now broke. 

“We will find her!”; Jonathan announced; “Sure we will!” A bold statement, and the priests yearning for adventure and good deeds was still strong, despite his and our exhaustion. “But perhaps we should go tomorrow, have some rest first?”; Finn tried. “Sorry, orders are orders. And time is of the essence here!”. The sergeant turned out to be a sergeant; “Now move! Give them some torches, they’ll need them!” And into the hole we went, the silent procession continued. Step by step we descended the slope into the cave, into the darkness. Feeling very, very tired and very,very guilty because I was to blame for not reading the conditions properly.

When we had made enough distance and the shallow curve concealed us from the guards, we halted. “I’m very sorry, and you’re right to blame me. Before you do, please allow me to try this.”; I pleaded, kneeling down and grabbing my spell book once more. “This one I have not cast before.” Concentrating, worn down both physically and magically, I breathed in deep. Then I felt the arcane energies from the book and myself aligning. It was working, around us a bulge of force was growing. Encircling our group, then stabilizing and fixating it, releasing it the moment it was stable. “This should keep us protected for the night. But no guarantees!”; I announced to the baffled halfling men. Hopefully hiding to them that I was perhaps even more astounded as they were.

And so we’re here, in this magical hut, hopefully allowed some rest. Sitting here, writing this down with the cubs around me. Gregot is standing in the middle, looking like his roots are capturing arcane strength from the spell. Finn and Jonathan have seated themselves on the far side, offering to me to pass over guard duty this night. Which is rather nice of them, dear diary!

And so another risky task is to be completed. My dream of visiting Magki and becoming a wizard has taken a strange twist. Not to mention my failure at negotiating and making deals, am I truly a solicitor's daughter, dear diary, to miss the fine print in a contract? That would have made my dad probably more angry than my pursuit of magic and adventure! Not to mention spending nights with halfling boys without chaperone. No diary, I don’t think Gregot nor the cubs will be acceptable in that role for my parents. Nice try though!

Hopefully talk to you soon!