A Motley Crew

Cyrian's Log - Entry 12

THE HUNT

Month C, Day 2 – continued

This day seems to have gone on forever. I don’t even have Little Sister to talk to. It’s just march, march, march down dreary passageways. That stink.

We chose one of the two paths we hadn’t gone down to explore next… this one was vaguely northeasterly. It opened into a largish room containing piles of weapons and twelve goblins, whom we slew. We spared one, but he wasn’t very useful. We camped.

Month C, Day 3

The prisoner told us something about treasure, then lead us to the rooms we could no longer enter. There was some talk about killing him, but he’d surrendered. That wasn’t cool. We ended up letting him go with a warning. He’ll probably come back tonight to eat us.

We gave up and headed back out near the castle, where Joseph had an emotional breakdown and chastised us for not being heroic enough. Well, yeah, dude. Maybe next time you get drafted, enslaved, tortured, chased, then watch a friend die, then get imprisoned, hungry, chased, attacked, enchanted, terrified, possessed, and then finally be stranded on a plane not your own that you can’t escape from, THEN you can talk. What does he have, a bad hair day? Although I’m much more impressed with his fighting prowess now; those goblins are tough little bastards. I don’t think I could take one down on my own…

Anyway, loser Joseph ditched us. Good riddance. I think in the future we should just assume that everyone not part of the group is irredeemable trash, and we should take their stuff.

That night, that weird OSS guy showed up outside our Rope Trick and enslaved us through the planar boundary. I’m not sure how that works, but I wasn’t really doing a lot of thinking. I heard from Reth, who apparently “didn’t” get mind-controlled (though I’m not sure I believe him, he’s probably just bragging) that he was riding a wolf, and there were lots of other wolves, and people were screaming all the time, and there was a big fight with a million goblins or something, but there’s no way. The countryside couldn’t possibly support a million goblins, or even more than maybe a hundred. And wolves? What do the wolves eat, grass? Sure, herbivore wolves Reth. Right.

When I started to shake myself out of the stupor that bastard god had put me in, he was holding out a weird hunting horn to us. I guess as payment for enslaving our minds? I don’t think that’ll pay me off, dude. Niramour was crazy obsessed with it, so we let her hold onto it, but I’m now a little curious about her relationship with Smoke…

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uldeim

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