The 3rd Day of Choren of the Year 850 NE

I was roused this morning by the sounds of combat.  Another new form of Shadowspawn has deigned to attack our little camp.  This one barely even appears alive, with its skin stretched tightly over its emaciated form.  They did not use weapons of any form, rather trying to bite the short Wetlander with little success.   I joined the Dance with my bow, finding the increased draw on this new acquisition quite handy, and managed to fell one of the three before another broke off from the Wetlander and turned its attention to myself.  I managed to pull out my spear readily enough; unfortunately the action gave the beast an opportune strike on my left arm.  Such a small wound would not normally have bothered me, but this beast seems to have some sort of venom in its bite, and I was rendered unable to move.  It shames me that I was forced to watch the battle, unable to even twitch in aide of our defense.  I did, however, find it somewhat humorous that the beast, in its eagerness to dine on my unprotected arm, lunged poorly and managed only a mouthful of this wet mud.  The others dispatched the remaining two before I had recovered from the paralysis, to my further shame, and my first act upon regaining the use of my muscles was to disinfect my wound.  The only antiseptic I had on hand was my jug of Oosquai, which, though painful, worked quite well.  I believe the Short One further treated my wound after I’d passed out from the pain, but I cannot be sure as I awoke in the cart some time later.

Upon awaking I dosed myself with a finger of Oosquai; which may have been a mistake as the alcohol proved too much for my blood deprived body.  I slumped into a state of semi-unconsciousness for a time, rousing when the cart halted unexpectedly.  Swaying to my feet I found four figures in the ditch beside the road, two goblins and two more short Wetlanders with humorously large beards.  Pulling out my bow, I proceeded to shoot the two goblins; causing them to flee in panic.  At some point one of the goblins seems to have shot one of the Wetlanders, as the Treesister moved over and pulled an arrow out of his shoulder.  I cannot recall clearly what happened next, but I can only describe it as a gift of the Light itself.  My wound was healed completely, and even my inebriation was lifted.  In this newfound state of clarity I again assumed the lead position and began scouting ahead.  The bearded Wetlander has joined the others in following me it seems, what is it that attracts so many of them along my path?

I arrived at this town as evening approached the others still following behind…  I flanked to the right, while the Treesister flanked left.  This town is another example of Wetlander foolishness.  Why would the build their hold here in the open, rather than finding a more defendable location?  They seem to have made a poor, last ditch attempt at protecting their dwellings by piling furniture around the perimeter in a laughable attempt at a wall (another example of Wetlander foolishness those…).  I moved to the top of this wall, and found about eight of those goblins moving about within my sight.  An uneven piece of that Bloody barrier caught my foot as I moved to jump down into the village, and I ended up tripping quite spectacularly instead.  Four of the Shadowspawn charged at me, while the other four moved to engage the Treesister who had come over at the other end of the village.  I’d dispatched one of my foes when that bearded Wetlander charged into the middle of the dance, and almost ran into a new, larger goblin that charged out to meet him.  I was distracted from my dance when the bearded one’s blade began to shine with a flameless, steady light.  Burn the fool!  That had to be Saidin!  Does he not know of the taint?  One of the goblins took advantage of my distracted state and managed to knock me down, but I came back up swinging, and lost my spear…  I did not see where it went, but pulled one of my spares out from behind my bucklerand continued the dance.  As the last goblin fell to my spear, I again switched to my bow and proceeded to pick off the last, large foe who had moved over to the Treesister.

Before falling, the last foe sounded a crude horn, which must have been the call for retreat as the sounds of distant battle faded and a few of the Shadowspawn rushed out over the bit of wall I could see.
An odd weapon caught my eye as I passed the body of the large Shadowspawn.  It was a bow, much larger than the short horn bows to which I am accustomed, and proved to have a very strong draw.  I took it as my own, considering the possibilities of long ranged combat now open to me…

I accepted shade under the roof of Rodfillick Vesten of the Fool’s Honor, and settled down to care for my weapons.  Another Wetlander shared my overly tall table, outfitted in this Wetlander foolish armor of heavy metal and, worse yet, carrying a surprisingly large and clumsy looking sword.  These things aside, this particular Wetlander appears to have some measure of Ji.  He introduced himself as Ares Brightblade, and asked my spear in setting a trap to capture one of these goblins; I was more than willing to take a chance to strike back at these little Shadowspawn.  Our battle plan was a simple one, we would lure some of the beasts in with a live pig (these ones appear to have appetites similar to Trollocs as well), then light some oil underneath them before moving in for the capture.  I would not have considered using fire, there being too little fuel for fires and too much danger in using them so, and profess some curiosity as to how well such a tactic would work.  We divided the preparations and began to gather the needed supplies.  I was also able to acquire some arrows of masterful craftsmanship in exchange for one of the small bows I’d recovered from the Shadowspawn.

We set the trap in a small farm a short run from the village, and where rewarded a few hours later by the slinking forms of our foes.  Unfortunately I am most unused to this rain, and did not consider that it would wash the lamp oil away from our selected target, so my first arrow failed to ignite our trap.  Ares Brightblade moved into the pen with our remaining oil, while I ignited my remaining arrows and followed.  I can only assume Ares Brightblade tripped over his clumsy armor while attempting to climb over the fencing, as when I tossed my bundle into the pen, he was caught in the blast of fire with the Shadowspawn.

The fire revealed four of the little Shadowspawn, though one appeared notably larger than the others, this one wielded an axe of massive proportions to its size.  I attempted to keep some distance between myself and this larger one, using my new weapon to full advantage, but somewhat alarmingly, the thing managed to match me stride for stride.  It is no shame to admit that we had some great difficulty in defeating these foes; though the first three fell quite quickly, that larger one proved by far more resilient.  The Bearded Wetlander joined the dance after the first three had fallen, and his aide proved instrumental in felling the final Shadowspawn.  I may have some Toh with that one, but it shall be simple to repay.

After the battle, we recovered some of the pig that had been used as bait, which was actually rather well cooked all things considered, and returned to the town.  The Roofmistress seemed to take some offence to my appearance upon my return, and treated me as an unruly child of all things, insisting on cleaning my clothes; had she not been the Roofmistress from whom I had accepted Shade I may have lost my temper…   Apparently when wetlanders bathe they immerse themselves fully in water, how odd that is.  And surely it must be bad for one’s health, being in so much water when a good Sweat Tent will do just as well if not better.

After this insufferable treatment, I settled into my room to care for my weapons and reflect on the day’s events, when Ares Brightblade requested entry to my room, and we began to discuss our next move.  No sooner had we started however when the alarm was raised, presumably indicating an attack.  I gathered my weapons and moved downstairs where I managed to recover my Cadin’sor, slightly damp but more than serviceable.

Directly outside the inn I found another of those incredibly large Shadowspawn I’d encountered previously on the road, this one proved far easier to fell, perhaps in part thanks to having more warriors capable of dancing the spears as well as my use of the bow, to which I am more familiar.  Upon the felling of this large creature, six of the smaller Shadowspawn appeared and fell in their own turn.

What happened next was… odd…  A creature appeared, I can only assume it is one of the Dogs I have read about, and began to speak in the tongue of men.  At first I believed it some prank, as the voice matched that annoying little Wetlander that followed me on the journey to this village, but it soon became apparent that this was not the case, so my next thought was some Shadowspawn trick.  This to, however, was proved false.  It seems that the Wetlander has, indeed, been somehow changed into this strange form, though I cannot fathom how this could be…