Log entry; 06/16/2016; Cha-cha-cha changes …
Our time at the Inn was short lived. The humans here in Hillsfar are wary of non-human races, almost xenophobic. Dresmorlin decided to take his leave of the company, not wanting to put all of us in greater danger from bounty hunters, he has left us seeking other adventures. Shamiamus left a cryptic note about needing to “see a man about a horse …” and was no where to be found the following morning. The five remaining members of the company set about resupplying in the town from the few vendors who would deal with “our kind”. I pity these humans and their fear of the unknown. I have spent part of the evening trying to gather more information on Murtogz path, but it is difficult to obtain information from so scared a species as these humans in Hillsfar. I met up with the remaining members of the company in the tavern for ales and plans on how to deal with the growing unrest we have noticed in the area. I overheard the men a the table next to us discussing a spring in the woods blessed by a goddess. Several other members of the group had either heard similar rumors or were cursed with demented dreams during the night that included visions of strang creatures in the woods and a churc yard full of corruption and evil sorcery. We decided to venture forth to the spring and then on to a local abandoned church nearby. As we were about to set off into the woods, the captain I had previously intimidated and her soldiers brought in a prisoner to the fighting pits that serve as entertainment in this oddly large tavern. Their slave/prisoner was placed in the pit, weaponless and without armor. This is no way for gladiators to do battle. When the prisoner triumphed in the first fight, the guard captain proceeded to order her soldiers to assualt the prisoner. I am torn by this scene as my respect for the law and the authority of those who uphold it is well established by my upbringing and education, but it is in my blood to help those who are suffering and in need and protect them the horrors of this world. This struck me as a horror, more than justice. I stepped forward to intervene and was forced to cross blades with the captain. I was able to knock her unconscioius with the pommel of my greatsword. Her soldiers picked up her limp body and fled. As they did so they warned us that the militia would be back for us. The company agreed it was time to make our exit from this place. I asked the prisoner to join us, as I was certain the militia would not be kind if she were to stay behind.
Log entry; 06/17/2016; the forest is dark and full of … werewolves!
We were not lead astray by thet rumors! The forest beyond Hillsfar is consumed by dark magic. We were subjected to demented illusions, pit traps, and lycanthropes. We made it the spring after being ravaged by these horrors and found that it was indeed blessed by a kind goddess. We drank from it and were healed and to our astonishment felt, hmmm, how to describe it, inspired. The very real spectre of undead horrors and things that go bump in the night, I have found, is never far removed from those mortals who would use that dark power to corrupt others for their own evil ends. As we approached the church graveyard we fell upon cultists performing bizarre rituals. We dispatched them and their zombie slaves and discovered that one of the crypts they were protecting had a secret passage. A dark stairwell that leads into an inky black catcomb. We decided to camp for the night and get in a long rest before venturing further into that dark and foreboding place. As I write this, I am on first watch and an unsettling sense of dread has entered my mind. I am relying on my years of training wth the Lance Defenders of Tymanther to bolster my mind against the imperceptible magics of this foul place that are no doubt trying to play tricks on me. Rest will not come easily for the company this evening.