Today…Today has been a long day. We’ll get back to that. It’s been a while since my last entry, so naturally a lot has happened. After we got out of the Salt Mine, radiation poisoning free I might add, we plucked our way down to our boat to find out that its boiler plate had cracked while we were out and about. Luckily there was a small town only a few dozen miles away from us. With no other alternative, we set out on foot hoping to find a good smith capable of completing our requirements.
As we strode along the woodland roads, we heard a terrible scream come from just over the hill that sounded like a young woman under the axe of an executioner. When we crested the hill, however, we discovered a dire looking plant beast of sorts with tentacles coming out at all ungodly angles. When engaged, the beast continued to let out a slew of different screams that all sounded like the final breaths of its past victims. Once the beast was felled, we found its mark. It was just about to feast on a group of small, pixie-like creatures, no two alike. The little things seemed harmless enough and didn’t let off any evil vibes, so I decided to let them go about their way. Happy with our actions, they invited the party to their little hovel. I’m not much one for crawling into small spaces underground, so I decided to wait outside. A few minutes later our Witch, Esta I believe her name is, exited the hole first with a shining crown and one of the little creatures on her head. The little guy, later dubbed Puck, wielded a crossbow bolt as a spear and a tea cup as a helm and rode along Esta’s head with the crown acting as a saddle.
Further along the road, we saw a nice little cottage just off the side of the road. Hoping for good company, we took a break. When no one answered the door, our Goblin companion poked around the side of the building. When peering inside, he saw a body hanging from the rafters. Suicide never struck me as a suitable way to go. Even in my darkest times of my lonesome childhood, it never seemed like a viable option. No matter what’s happening, suicide couldn’t possibly make it better. There’s no gain to be had. Sure, there’s release, but that can also be attained through the changing of your situation. Anyway, the man had left a note detailing that he and his brother went into the forest nearby to hunt down a fearsome magical for that had been terrorizing the locals. In the note, the man went on to say that he had envied his brother for most of their life, another undesirable trait. After that, the note went on to describe their encounter with the beast. If I remember correctly, he cowered while his brother, a truly amiable character, fought the beast head-on and managed to take it down. Seizing the opportunity, the first man drew his crossbow on the man and shot him from behind. Once more, he fails to prove that he is a man of great character. Perhaps we are better off without someone like him in our world.
The most tantalizing bit of information of the note stated that despite his seemingly fatal wound, the man’s brother staggered out of the woods a few days later and resumed his life as if nothing had happened. He does not believe this man to be his brother, but rather something that has taken up his place and he urges someone to stop it at all costs. He’s left the righteous and redeeming deeds to another with a stronger will than he. At the very least he knows where he’s not needed. Anyway, we decided to go into the forest to investigate.
Towards nightfall, we came across a large pit about 40 feet in depth with small bits of movement at the bottom. Once myself and Nortis, the Goblin, repelled down, we discovered that it was the man’s brother who had been shot by the crossbow bolt. With some medical attention, he temporarily came to and thanked us for help. Furthermore, he inquired about his brother before passing out again. It seemed that he had been sustaining himself by the Goodberry bushes growing along the walls. Once we got him out of the pit, we were very surprised to another man with the visage of the one we just saved coming out of the woodwork towards. Upon seeing who we had with us, the second attacked. After a good volley of attacks, it sensed its defeat and jumped towards our recently retrieved quarry. With a very well placed slash from our Pirate, whose name I have come to know as Flint, the beast was split in twain and sent tumbling down into the pit. I suppose we’ll never know his origin.
The next day, we were back at the man’s cottage with his wife when he completely came back to consciousness. He awarded out good deeds with a Repeating Crossbow and a nice set of clothing that had once belonged to his brother. Seeing as I’m the only only in his same general shape and size, the vest with a blue crest of Goodberries on the breast fell to me. I don’t much like it due to its previous owner’s history, but it could perhaps be of some us in the future.
As we came into the next town, continuing our journey for a good Smith, I was pulled aside by a farmer in well-used clothes begging for medical help for his daughter. Naturally, I couldn’t say no to those in need and followed him to his home. After identifying the problem as Kobold’s Cough, a sickness common amongst the draconic races that would occasionally spread its wings to the other races, I made my way to the Apothecary to retrieve the required supplies for a cure. It was there that the Apothecary alerted me to the fact that the town’s Duke had taken a liking to the tea that could be made using the roots that I needed. Therefore, the Duke had purchased every bit of the tea that he could possibly get his hands on in at least a ten mile radius. Furthermore, he was having it shipped in from other parts of the country. I came back to the farm to tell the man of our problem. It was at this point that he revealed himself to be the long-since retired Constable. If you’re unfamiliar with him, he was a high-way robber who would occasionally use his thieved riches to help those in need. Surely this was a just use of the earnings, but in no way acceptable avenue of accruing the materials. It was at this point that he told us of a shipment of the required materials that were coming into the Duke’s possession later that night. He then hatched a plan to spring an ambush on the caravan to take the roots by force.
The man…surely is a despicable shell of a human, but there’s no doubt that his intentions are pure. He has long since hung up his thieving tools, supposedly, and taken up the simple life of a farmer. This part seems true enough, but there’s no denying that there are foul deeds in his past. And who’s to say how deep these indiscretions go? Nevertheless, that is not the problem at hand. Should I help him in securing the roots for his daughter? She’s pure of heart and in need of healing. I have an oath to protect those in need, help the sick and weary, and to enforce the mandates of Apexia. This is not a choice to be influenced by those around me or the church. I need to decide for myself how to go about this. The heist takes place later tonight. I’ll update you once more when I have more information.
Until next time, Watts Partida