(September 12th, Game 1)
(September 12th, Game 1)
Our scouting party which was sent days ago in hopes of discovering the second entrance to the dwarven stronghold came across an odd landing of sorts. There was a strange being there which seemed upset, but I cannot be sure as it was part man and what seems to be part goat.
Never have I encountered such a being in my life. Deciding that there were probably more like him around, I named his kind “Goatman” – a fitting name, I think. He was dressed like the shamen of our village, but his totems were strange to me. I noticed that the shaman in our party, Metannalia, was disinterested in these as replacements for her own totems despite their obvious value. The trickster, Mari, on the other hand pocketed the artifacts quickly and without much a fuss. The Goatman also carried a strange staff which he used to slay three of our scouting party: Sherp, A’Van, and Nilla. They are sorely missed, and may their families feel pride for their service to the tribe.
We could not discover much about the shaman Goatman’s intentions because he merely brayed. Perhaps it was his kind of speech. He was obviously hostile to my peoples though, and I cannot permit this. Still, I doubt that taking his life was necessary, he was covered in boils and abscesses with the pungent stink of rot. To me he was riddled with the very worst signs of Filth Fever, a lamentable condition.
To the right of us was a large open mouth in the side of the mountain. The gate-like entrance was definitely in the dwarven style according to one of the party, I was much more interested in sending the Goatman’s body elsewhere lest he be discovered by his braying brethren. We prayed for our departed within the mouth of the mountain so that it would swallow the smoke to conceal our whereabouts as best as possible.
It was decided that we should go into the cave, where we ascended to a bridge over another platform of sorts. Above us roosted the bats, clutching the ceiling with their feet, and blocking their eyes of the light from our torches and their noses from the smell of our burning dead. We have discovered where they are coming from, however I sense that there are more who inhabit this place than bats. Ahead of us was an ornate fountain, and true to the folly of our youthful curiosity, Mari swiped her blade through what had seemed to be water to find that it most definitely was not.
Four rather reluctant human spirits in all (though one seemed rather keen to do harm to me), lead by the one whom originally cut her (Mari) proceeded to attack the four of us. Mair, Metannalia, and Tolmas fought well, but I must have more time to adjust to such strange goings on. “Spirits of our Ancestors,” someone cried out in the dark, “don’t attack!” I heard. Despite my swinging blade, I suppose my spirit must have heeded that person’s plea.
We determined that this fountain was filled with human souls, and I for one cannot permit those who have passed to remain tied to this world. The spirits should ascend to another life or eternal peace of the final destination, not be trapped within this fountain forever. In the mindset that we were to free these spirits, we ventured to the very top of the large stairs. I believe this to be the highest level within the mountain stronghold, which is interesting because we believe this to be the dwarven tombs.
Seeing no real sign of sorcery, we ventured down some to a hall which lead to the left, and according to the trickster Mari, there were dozens more of the Goatmen. I could not help to think that perhaps the entire race of dwarves were turned into these creatures and have not the pride to show their faces to us. More likely, though is that they too were seeking shelter from the wars brewing around us, and came across the mountain entrance to conceal their villages. The smell might be common amoung them, though, the halls were nearly toxic with the stench of these Goatmen.
As we investigated them, rats attacked us. With the brilliance passed down to me, I called upon the spirit of the Thundering Ram, and thunder it did… We fled down a darkened side hall as the goatmen guards took away the filthy rats. If they are eating these rats for sustenance, this is probably where they are contracting the disease. I, along with two others in this scouting party have contracted the disease, but after returning to the tomb entrance Mari and I were cured. Tolmas, I fear has worsened in condition. We shall try to cure his disease as we investigate more.