The Sundered

Adventure 03 Feywild Jaunt

“The heretic is always better dead. And mortal eyes cannae distinguish the saint frae the heretic.”

75th Year, 9th Month (10/15/11)

After finishin’ negotiations with the wee fairy heretics, we went frae the toadstool village in the direction the pixies had indicated. We soon came tae a split in the trail. Quicklin’ footprints continued on away from the great fire in the distance, and we seemed to hear the sound of a lass weepin’.

We headed down the trail tae the lass and soon discovered the source of the cryin’. A group of numptie goblins surrounded a great tree, havin’ built fires all round. One big goblin was dancin’ and haverin’ on in that filthy goblin tongue. Up in the branches a bonnie lass (tho she looked to be a bit wooden) flitted tae and fro among the branches, cryin’ and generally all dowie.

We crept up close and made to ambush the goblins, but were surprised ourselves by goblin archer sentries in the trees. Their advantage didnae last long tho; soon we had laid low a half-score of the wee pests. Their leader put up a bit more of a fight but soon was brought low thanks to my hammer and a few lightnin’ bolts from Eli.

The lass turned oot to be a dryad, a fey creature of the trees. With a bit of flattery we convinced her to guide us tae the bairn we sought. She told us that trolls had killed the quicklin’s, perhaps to gain favor with their heretical King Brodder.

At a quick pace we came tae a great mound surrounded by mud and filth. Auld Dahlwhinnie took a wee keek inside and was pretty sure he saw a brace of troll whelps, tho nae sign of the bairn. We drew the trolls ootside, and a great rammy ensued. At first, we fought hard and well, catchin’ the whelps by surprise no doubt. But the beasts were solid and in nae time had laid low Dahlwhinnie, Eli, and me. Fortunately, a wee fairy lass had followed us from the village and managed to revive us before we went tae see Amaunator in the flesh.

After defeatin’ the trolls, we searched their lair and sure and we found the wee bairn Otter inside a pot, ready to be tonight’s scran. We gave him one of the troll heads as a trophy, a mite better than a squirrel any day. Then we hustled back tae the fairies, bein’ fair puckled and half deid.

We finally made it back frae the fey and tae Hammerfast, where wee Otter’s maw and paw were quite pleased to see us all. As a reward for our effort (and nearly dyin’) Otter’s paw gave us his crossbow. Now it’s off tae get some proper rest, after I wash off this bowfin’ troll filth.



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