3rd of Elesias 1482 DR
My Dearest EB
Come the morning, we finalized our deliberations, the majority of the group wishing to visit Agatha the Banshee. So back to Coney bury we went. On the walk thither, we discussed various means of treating with the dread spirit, and how to determine the best areas to search for her lair. The legends I remember reading and the stories we were able to discover within the local lore, all indicated she has led a stationary and almost benevolent aspect towards the local countryside.
After spending a night in Coneybury, we began our search and soon found a narrow and somewhat overgrown pathway. Deciding, on a whim to follow it, we soon found ourselves at a small wicker dome house. The structure lacked a door and we could see old furniture of elvish design, it appeared to be from the Fourth Crown War era, possibly the Third. Thran and I elected to remain outside, while the rest of the group, as hasty as all the young races can be, entered Agatha’s home uninvited. Suddenly, there she was, Agatha, in all her horrid and beguiling beauty. To see one such as she was, twisted and changed to what she is now, a pity. Hazadad attempted to introduce the group, Xenya’s voice being taken away with fright. Agatha rebuffed him and looked threateningly upon those within, screeching her displeasure. And then, my dearest EB, the nobility of the young races rose up in Xenya, finding the courage, she swept forward, charming the undead creature and getting the information concerning the whereabouts of Bogentle’s Spellbook out of her. Agatha related how she traded the book for a bauble from a practioner of the black arts of Necromancy, one Cernoff, a wizard from the city of Erebor.
We then traveled back to Phandelen. It rained all of the second and part of the third day on the walk back.
The radäg made a simple minded, but round about intelligent observation. He advised us to bathe in the rain. Quite a droll comment, at least it shows that the concept of hygiene resides in his brain. This does seems to lend credence to the theories of Vithu of T’u Lung, in which certain basic tenets of civilization lay within every thinking creature. I shall have to ponder this some more.
Arriving back in Phandelen, we rested, relaxed, bathed, in tubs with hot water, not the tepid rain, and spent a night carousing. I did not stay long for the festivities, retiring to my room to study and practice the Art. In the morning we went to the Town Master’s hall, where we turned in the radäg ears for our reward. The Town Master was suspiciously absent, or perhaps it was due to his short human attention span. So few of your species has the drive and concentration to achieve what you or any elf could.
After collecting out fee from the town, Thran and Fletch returned to the Inn to have a beer (or three). Xenya and Gregori went to see the local Priestess, to report their success in getting the knowledge she requested. Hazadad and I went to the orchard to speak to Darren about the undead and to let him know the area was now cleansed of their taint. Darren made us an offer to join a different ‘secret society’, the Order of the Gauntlet. Honor and Vigilance are their credo. We turned him down, although I think Hazadad has begun to question his commitment to the society we have joined. Traveling back to the Inn, we met up with the rest of our comrades and split the loot we had acquired. I confess, the provincial nature of this town can be distressing. I cannot acquire the necessary ingredients to scribe some of the spells in this new book to mine. It’s quite irritating. We discussed going after and attempting to find our former employer, but in the end, decided to go to Thundertree.
We spent two monotonous days walking towards Thundertree, but those dull hours, were soon to be paid for. As we sat around our encampment for the night, we heard a rustling in the undergrowth, which turned out to be an Owlbear! Thankfully I was on the other side of the encampment when it came out, looking for dinner, but poor Gregori got in one swing and then the rabid beast was upon him. I saw it bat him about like a piece of fluff with its claws and sink its fangs into his side. Oh how the blood sprayed everywhere. But that was the beast’s last action as our group sprang into action like a well oiled machine. Fletch sunk two shafts into its throat, one of them up to the fletching.
Hazadad moved forward and healed Gregori, the blood fountain ceased and the radäg’s skin took on a much healthier hue. Xenya stepped forward and shot it with her bow, while I cast the Fiery Javelin spell our master used to favor. All this damage flung the beast back and it crashed to the ground, dead.
Seeing the beast’s corpse on the ground, the Dwarven brothers took it into their skulls to sample the flesh of the foul, rabid beast. Fletch assisted them by skinning the animal. We slept the night away and morning found us on the road to find Cragmaw Castle. Passing across a ford, we found ourselves on a path. A path that led through a ruined town, the shattered shells of buildings, choked with trees, new growth upon an old scar. We could see a ruined tower up upon a hill near the center of the former city and set forward to inspect it. We soon found a sign warning of Zombies and Plant Monsters. Ignoring the sign we moved onwards into the town. Fletch brought us to the section of town where he used to live, before the dragon. We wandered and explored the ruins, searching for Fletch’s former home. Fletch tried speaking to some of the vegetation, and they seemed to respond to his voice, beginning to move about. Fletch finally found the ruins of his parent’s house and started looking about, when the small plants Fletch had been conversing with, moved in and attacked him! They were easily dispatched, but I wonder, what has given them the hateful life they now possess. Fletch found his childhood hidey hole, where he was wont to keep his treasures. It now held someone else’s treasure, a chest in which we found 90 Lions, 160 Falcons, and 700 Thumbs. We continued our exploration, coming upon the ruins of an old Inn. Inside as we poked around for a suitable place to spend the night, we came across some more Zombies. These however burst into a cloud of choking ash when they were given the final release. We decided not to spend the night in the Inn and continued on our way. We did come across another living being, an old human; we wondered if this was the Druid, Rydoth, who had traveled towards this place. The old human, he never gave his name, but told us that the Zombies were the result of an evil emanation coming from Mount Hotennow. He further informed us that a green dragon laired at the top or the hill in the ruins of the old tower. Based on his descriptions, I estimate the Wyrm to be a young adult or perhaps a small adult. If we take on the beast, it will be a hard struggle. The old man also gave us directions to where the Herbalist shop was located. He drew for us, the location of Cragmaw Castle on our map. Also this region is haunted by some large, poisonous spiders near the base of the hill and a group of black masked and cloaked men have claimed the eastern section of the town. All this activity gives me hope that perhaps the Wyrm is asleep as their kind are wont to do. If the Wyrm is not however asleep, but in fact may have a mutual arrangement with these groups, I can see a perilous time ahead. I do fear for my comrades and my own life.
We stayed the night by the old man’s home and in the morning headed over to the eastern side of town. We ran into some large spiders and quickly killed them all. Thran chopped his way into the webs and found a desiccated elven corpse still in its leather armor and bearing a short sword. The corpse had a potion of Healing upon it along with 23 Lions and 35 Falcons. We continued onwards and soon found the old Alchemist’s store. Once we found the store remains, it was simple work to follow the directions and recover the Emerald pendant. Poking around some more, we found a ruined forge and two Zombies within. These were soon dispatched.
Moving down the road we soon located the headquarters of the black masked humans, they appear to be some kind of cultists. I must end my letter here as we are to soon engage the cultists.
My Warmest Regards