The winds of fortune were not at our backs this day. We just lost Candy. (Editor's note: She was obnoxious as hell, but she was Randy's sister - whom those of us who knew him miss dearly).
A legion of undead lay at our feet and a necromancer was brought down by many arrows. If only Pint had not been forced to stay behind due to work on his armor delaying his departure.
The accompanying men are of no use. Worthless and Weak. They refuse to engage any enemy and worse, my elfy senses are going "twicha twicha twitcha twitch" whenever I look at this lackluster group which usually means that someone is going to try and kill us soon. I expect that we should not turn our backs on these scoundrels. The others seem to feel the same way.
Following the cleanup after our battle with the undead, Myra and I snuck towards the pit that I had spied earlier behind a woodpile (as part of a scouting/surveillance effort). As we peered over the edge something struck me.
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Our group was tasked as a rescue party by the mayor to return to the logging camp, assess the situation, and assist in any way necessary with the loggers. We were accompanied by a group of seven fighting men. Under the impression that this group of fighters would be helping us, we later found out that they weren't of much use as they only stood by to make sure we accomplished our task with the rescue attempt.
On our way to the camp we were surprised by a group of four large wolves who we found out were the cousins of Greypelt, another wolf who had earlier
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The Journals of Njörd Eissen - Out of the Blizzard to be Bombarded by Bears
We ran from the storm, our foes, and certain death, into a literal bear trap. Worn and weary from our previous encounters our group bounded away through the woods only to hear the growls from rabid beasts approaching. Even though she was drastically wounded, Mira grabbed our halfling healer, stuffed him in her knapsack for better protection, and sent her wolf away, who was barely holding onto life herself. Once we spotted the bears, the party split. The beasts easily caught up to the lead-footed Pint and swatted him down and out for the encounter. Otho stabilized the dwarf as Mira tried for cover behind a tree. Bay-Winn and I took off further into the forest to try and draw one away, Bay-Winn attempted to climb a tree, but failed embarrassingly.
The following is an excerpt of Pint Bloodhorn's adventuring journal. No date given, just words furiously scribbled together with no apparent sense or reason behind them.
The Journals of Njörd Eissen - A Boost into the Bastion
Coming out of my strange stupor, I was surprised to learn of the mission before us. We waited quietly outside of an apparent asylum for the insane! A tall gate stood at the front with an apparent guard slot for viewing. My party walked the walled perimeter looking for an alternate entrance, or rather, a way to sneak in. Our only option was to either boost a willing member over or to devise some befuddling farce to get past the guard. While Tank, Pint and I debated on who would pretend to be a prisoner in our scheme, Bay-Winn and Otho volunteered to venture over the wall in the alternate. We traveled to the backside wall and hoisted them over. They were to sneak towards the front gate and unlock it from the inside. We were on our way back to the front to meet our compatriots when we heard the familiar sounds of struggle. It seems our friends had found some foes. Immediately beneat
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Happy adventurering parties are all alike; every unhappy adventure party is unhappy in its own way.
This particular day we were all unhappy in a "what the hell are we doing in this maze way!? Don't horrible things usually live in the middle of mazes?
Njord really wasn't himself that day. Not sure if it was the stress of the maze or the potential STD that had him acting all strange like.
(Editors note: No idea what is going to happen if she turns up pregnant. Being a water based scorcerer... nah... no jokes about what will happen when the water breaks).
We wandered the maze heroically. The sunlight took every opportunity to reflect off of Pints brilliantly polished armor.
(editors note: he says that the blood of battle looks better against clean armor. I just wish he would clean the INSIDE of the armor too! Arghh! The smell! Ya know what he smells like?! He smells like a really
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