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Karamus Entry 8
The old cansin set his book down on his lap and leaned back into his chair. He turned his head to look out the window where he could see his children playing out in front of the house, carefree and innocent, much like the town of Pearlglen. They never deserved the devastation they received but the gods picked them anyhow. With a shrug and a sigh he reopened the journal and flipped over several pages of notes and thoughts until he got to the entry about the company’s pending departure from the city.
“It was a knock at the door that through me out of my reverie. I lazily looked over at the door and mentioned that the two I had met earlier where suppose to be dropping by to talk business to the rest of the company. And so, the talking began, everyone getting a handle and feel for the newcomers, Katie and Greysmoke. Kort, in his usual bravado wanted the two tested to show what they could provide to the company should trouble find us. Then again, I don’t think it needs to go looking, it pretty much knows where we are on a daily basis. It turns out the elf is an archer! Wow, I never would have guessed. And he can cast spells! Surprised my liver right out of me. The other guy, Greytool apparently is another magician of the mental variety with a floating, talking crystal. I’ve seen odder, like the sodding paladin’s talking sword. Alas, I was unimpressed with their showmanship but the group was impressed enough. Not that it’s hard or anything, especially wonder boy farmer.
It was agreed, apparently, that we would head to Pearlglen in search of Cassidy’s mentor, another mage and archer. Color me shocked. The town was rescued some years back by a flying snake with feathers posing as a angel of sorts. They were so impressed with the poser that they made a statue in honor of him. I could only hope to be so lucky. It would be a two day trip to the town, hopefully only a couple of hours to find the elf so we can get onto more important matters.
Extortion at its finest. Civic projects, memorial tombs, call it what you like, it’s getting money out of everyone so you can get what you want. Sure the public gets a nice little keepsake to awe over while you skim 20% off the top. When the company arrived in Pearlglen, I was astonished by how blunt the town was about the civic project. Sure, a pint here, a pint there but everything? I know assassins with more leniency then these people. They say people having been giving this town a wide berth, I say it’s because of the prices. Sheesh.
Anyhow, our arrival in town was with its usual bravado and the first stop was the local temple to Pelor to get the skinny on what was going on. We were greeted by a zombie of a man who had his brain box liquored up with magic. Bransen made quick work of that small problem and viola, new priest, same clothing. Apparently the head priest was out of town talking with the feathered lizard but that was odd for her (I can’t say that surprises me. How many people talk to feathered lizards?). He suggested we talk to the Chief Warden to get more information and let him know about the drunk minded priest. The guards at the blockhouse said that the Chief was out and that they didn’t want any help. An obvious brush off but I was willing to explore other avenues when Cat Tails went storming back into the blockhouse to demand answers. This began a comedy of errors which gave me a chuckle as the elf came running out for fear of his pansy life. There was like, two guards and he wants to help us?
The suggestion came up that we should look into the site where the former warden had been attacked. Now this was at a graveyard and frankly, the whole place creeped me out and then the gnome showed up. Now Halflings I can deal, but gnomes? Creepy little buggers. To boot, he introduced himself as the new warden. Great. So the group talked with him about the current events and he said he would go talk to the feathered lizard for us to see what could be done and if there was any information on the elf’s mentor. I tried to follow him after he left but like I said, he’s creepy and fast. I lost him in the forest.
The next day we sat for half the day waiting for the creepy gnome to show up. I was about to start up a game of dice when the group announced that they were tired of waiting and elected the rest of us to go out to the temple ourselves. Since I was bored to tears, I readily agreed to go. The walk to the temple was scenic and forested, rather nice I would say if I were a druid but I’m not so bleh. As we traveled we came upon three massive sized bears. Who lets these things get so big? I mean really. Is it truly necessary? We started to debate how to deal with the bears when I heard the faint sounds of someone casting a spell off to our left. I was about to say “Someone is here,” when the dead-wannabe necro threw a fireball at the bears. Sigh, I guess we are fighting. Fighting bears.
To the cage with that. I decided to go after the spellcaster that was hidden in the trees while dodging bear teeth and claws. Apparently Greyjacket had the same idea and guess who was sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g his pet wolf? The sodding gnome. He started to pin me down with arrows and then bolted when flying puke man got to close. They chased like school girls until the gnome suddenly just fell over holding his head. Looking back to the rest of the group, the bears had been slain. I looked at myself, my weapons still sheathed and I wondered why I didn’t just break out a bottle of wine and watch. I would have been just as effective.