Tyrday the 7th of Dirondal

My dearest Anastasia

Today I awakened to a bit of a surprise. Apparently the allies of the noble managed to revive me chief among them a nomadic shaman type known as Yattannee; a pleasant and unobtrusive fellow though not much on conversation. Regardless, you remember me telling you of that duke who found me with his wife in a rather compromising position? To make a long story short, I was dreaming of that very situation when I was awakened and apparently said a few words before I realized where I was. Something to the effect, “My dear sir, I assure you this is only an exercise employed to stretch your wife’s vocal cords”, though I’m certain my audience had no other information available to them, the statement alone might prove embarrassing.

My first order of business was to find that blasted nobleman whose apparent lack of communication nearly cost me my existence. I managed to steal him away from the business at hand and attempted to reason with him only to find that he was completely incapable of understanding a word I said. After several attempts to along these lines a man named Zarrakaf suggested that it might be better to simply forget the issue at hand. He assured me that the noble felt indebted to me regardless and his patronage was almost assured. With little more than frustration for my efforts I decided to properly introduce myself to my new compatriots.

Making my way back to the triage area I stumbled across the now inert Warforged creature that shot me. Amazing how karma works… Keeping with decorum I introduced myself in the usual fashion, and brilliantly I might add, though much to my chagrin I received no applause! Zounds! An orator of my stature suffering such an indignity! Well, what is one to expect though I suppose they’re an interesting cast of characters never the less.

Yattannee of the ten tribes – As I stated before, he’s a quiet shaman or druidic type who’s not much on conversation but is obviously a man of integrity and breeding, after all he did heal me.

Kurik – He’s a barbarian or some such thing and to my knowledge has no other name or designation as if is often the case for his kind. He’s a man of few words who seems to get his point across with ample clarity using that axe of his.

Yoric, Yes Yoric – A half-elf sorcerer from what I can tell with a rather large owl familiar. He is short on conversation but quite potent with his spell use in battle.

Nailghus, or Nal – He’s a monk or wrestler of sorts who wears hand-me-downs from various sources and appears to have a protective streak regarding the nobility. Though I cannot fault the man on his motivations, he simply wouldn’t stop defending Sufar after my non-confrontation with the man; He reminds me of the Dancing Wu Li Masters in that regard. Still, he’s more informative than most of the others and one can admire his consistency.

Zarrakaf – Save for the fact that he’s a scout of eastern descent who seems to be a friend of the noble I don’t really have much more information on him. At the very least he understands the nomadic culture and may be of use in my dealings with them.

Justamere – A Warforged creature known who somehow managed to keep its identity as such a secret. I don’t know who was more shocked when I revealed the creature’s toy-like nature, its fellow adventurers or me at their reaction. These creatures are far less complex in nature than the Asucronian Mechans, yet are apparently more capable than we gave them credit for. While this Justamere is capable of the usual mundane physical tasks, it also has the ability to cast spells, even speak. One might say it has a personality, even sentience though it lacks true sophistication or refinement as its first reaction to me can attest. It even knows the name of its creator, a local dwarf by the name of Zimerouski “The Guarded”.

I know there were more in their number as tales of their exploits would attest, but it would seem lack of group continuity has them scattered about. One who intrigues me is known as Rhiannon. Though I haven’t heard anything about her beyond a name, I had a chance to glance at a note she left her companions. She either hails from a barbaric culture with only basic literacy, or she is genius of epic proportions. Regardless, I cannot wait to meet her!

After introductions the group, mostly Nailghus, regaled me with their exploits. I was interested to discover that they stumbled upon a Green Dragon Wyrm, a fact I find unusual given the location of its lair. I simply must make a note to meet it some time. I also received a fair description of the reptilian mount one of the bandits rode, some sort of alligator creature. Then we came to the wine… As remarkable as it seems, these bandits have a cask of Chateau Lafeet! To think that a disgusting swamp devoid of almost anything approaching civilization could contain vintage as notable as this… We resolved to press on in the morning.

Yours truly,
Marius

Kronoday the 8th of Dirondal

My dearest Anastasia

Morning brings with it the promise of wine, women, and song… Well, at least wine. Our stealthy monk reconnoitered several rooms locating the pseudo-dragon my fellows had previously encountered. It is enough to say that it was engrossed in a rather private moment and we’ll leave it at that. After a careful retreat he was off to yet another room previously neglected by our intrepid group, and what a room. The cleric appears to have had a library of sorts containing the usual shelves packed full of books and accessorized by two comfortable chairs. I must say the thought of a few days perusal while enjoying the splendid bouquet of better than average gnomish wine does appeal. I digress…

With this pleasant discovery nagging at me like an expectant child unwilling to simply take “No” for an answer it was off again down some dreary hallway. And when I say dreary I mean, dark, dull, drab, and oh yes did I say dull? The décor in this fortress, or lack there of leaves much to be desired. One craves a change in color or the simple relief carving to such an extent that even the horrid musings of abyssal artists would be a welcome change. Well, as luck would have it we found our break in the monotony in the form of a nasty little trap. Thankfully Justamere dispatched it with the discretion and subtlety one has come to expect from our dangerous toy. A few words of recreation and he was ready for action once more, and just in time.

No sooner did our front-liners open the double doors than the hideous visage of some undead zombie like creature take the stage. Normally I find these things unsettling, but this one was particularly so as it looked at us with a sort of anticipating grin. I’ve seen undead before and seldom does one see anything beyond the vacuous blank stare followed by an unwieldy attempt to make the nearest living creature into a meal.

It wouldn’t take us long to figure out this was no ordinary undead creature. Beyond the smile and targeting glares it cast upon us, its dexterous chain wielding attacks were more than enough evidence to tell us something was afoot. Such was the level of its performance that it actually managed to keep three of our front liners quite busy with a multitude of trip attacks. Fortunately the continued damage our intrepid little group was able to deliver proved enough to overcome the creature. The final resounding blow from our barbarian, which finally killed the creature, revealed two very important facts; 1) This was not an undead creature at all, nay it was a human, 2) Barbarians are extremely effective with large, heavy, sharp bladed weapons such as axes. His final blow was enough to cleave our opponent in two leaving a rather gory splatter of entrails about the room and the melee combatants. A quick investigation revealed the magic properties of the dead man’s chain and iron necklace, which Justamere placed in his back pack. More to come…