Forging a Legend

The Diary of Griffon Ravengale

Adventure Log 1

Griffon Ravengale

We just arrived at our destination, while I wait to see what happens next I may as well update this damn journal I’ve been carrying around. I won’t get to be known anywhere if I don’t keep notes to pass on…

So our motley group of companions have taken employment again. Not sure how this helps us get more coin or treasure, but I can’t give up the chance it will be more exciting than it appears.

We were roused far too early for my liking by a lackey of Lord Merric Berteph, the “esteemed” mayor of the town of Westhaven, our current home from home. Our group was asked to attend an audience with Merric where he asked us to look after a small problem for him. One of his tax collectors and personal guard have not been seen since they left for a hole of a farming town to the east called Evrand. Our payment for the most epic of quests would be our usual expenses plus our cut of the overdue taxes.

Normally this wouldn’t be the type of work we would go for but since the giant was too hungover to attend this audience, Twitch stepped up (probably on a crate) and spoke for the group. I think she was chomping at the bit to get out and have at least the possibility of killing something, as she accepted the deal. Must watch that one, if she loses it while the giant is asleep we are all in trouble.

The others all went back to the Drunken Ass Inn to get prepared for the trip – seven days on the road they tell us. As usual, I was the only one who was ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cleric, Auran, went to the local temple to see if he could find any information on Evrand. Seems even the Gods don’t care for this place as there is just a small temple there. At least it was good use of his time. I passed my time bothering the local swans for feathers. It’s surprising how gullible they are when bread is offered. Got me a few trophy feathers and a couple of bruises. Our self appointed tiny leader took a couple for her hair. Gods know how she will use them, they are almost as big as she is.

Since Olaf was too hungover to draw straws, we drew them for him and he got to drag the cart for the first while. Beside him the horses look like tiny pets, his little ponies. It is a truly disturbing sight when he gently strokes their manes.

We played a couple of games of dice along the way, something I hadn’t heard of before called Chunky Snake. Rules were simple enough but Twitch won again. Starting to think that Mage, Vigo, is trying to reduce my cloaks luck. I don’t trust him much. He didn’t look like he believed a story I told about my previous encounter with a magic user.

That reminds me, at his request we walked over to a farm at one of our stops for the night and he spent 10 minutes out in a field making the strangest sounds at a bird. It looked like this wasn’t going to end so I took the bird out. The look on his face was priceless. He said he was asking the bird for info, just sounded like he was in pain. We agreed to him informing us before hand when communing with animals so there are no further “accidents”. He has to say Ka Kaw now before he does it, I think this will make me very happy.

Later on during our so far uneventful and rather boring trip we stopped off at a middle-of-nowhere place called Hywold and found a tavern run by a strange little dwarven lady. Nothing unusual about a dwarven innkeeper, didn’t like her much though. The menu left a lot to be desired, vegetable stew or baked artichoke. Figured I get some game for the tiny stout inn keep to spruce up the stew but after a look around it seemed that crows were the only thing alive out here. Took a couple of shots with my bow but the crows seemed to be strangely intelligent around here, dodging and weaving what would be marksman shots anywhere else. I secretly suspect they were evil spirits and not birds. The gnome came out to see what was happening and came up with the clever idea of cooking them on the wing with a fireball or two. Unfortunately they had landed on a thatched roof and we didn’t want to burn the houses down. I tried hurling a large rock at them but again they showed their supernatural traits and dodged it better than an elven acrobat. We gave up, went back indoors and ordered some baked artichoke since the giant had emptied the inn of the stew. How considerate of him.

The gnome tried to perform some sort of illusion on my food but failed miserably as my senses are too keen to fall for his trickery. I think he might have been trying to get one back on me after I accidentally killed his avian informant. The giant and the tiny wildling took to drinking but weren’t brave enough to try the local Scumble, opting to stick to cider instead. Olaf had come across Scumble before and I think I could see fear in his eyes. We were joined by an odd fellow, Harleon I think his name was. He said he was travelling from Evrand on his way back to Westhaven but there was nothing to report as far as he saw. He seemed to have a fixation on his massive sword. He couldn’t handle his drink either, one scumble and he staggered off. I could have had a jug full of the stuff and still hit a coin from twenty paces.

We finished up for the night and took our turns on watch. Our resident cleric managed to fall asleep at his post, it seems that wine and reading tomes tires a man out more than a hard day’s work. Thankfully we weren’t attacked in our sleep but as a result of his divine narcolepsy, we started out late the next day having to stop off at a farm some miles down the road to see if we could get any more information since we were about a day’s journey from our goal.

The house was eerily quiet but I bravely went inside to see what had happened. It seemed like it had been abandoned not a week ago and after a thorough inspection of the house it appeared all of the occupant’s belongings had been taken. Not to pass up on some shelter, the mage, the cleric and I ensured the house was safe and once we were satisfied we lit a fire for the evening. The giant and the halfling went outside to check on the barn but other than some old hay there was nothing to report. Strange a farm would be abandoned in this way. We spent an uneventful night there and set off on the final leg of our journey.

We reached the walls of Evrand later that day but our way was blocked by the town gates. After getting the attention of a gatekeeper we were denied entry as the town had succumbed to some mystery illness that the inept gatekeeper couldn’t describe. They were not letting anyone enter or leave. Olaf valiantly offered the services of our cleric to see if he would be of some help but this was refused without hesitation. We are left with no choice but to wait here until we can decide what to do next.

Comments

Very good. I will add to the next installment as will have more time .

The Diary of Griffon Ravengale
GavinDoran GavinDoran

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