As a member of CrIsis it is incumbent upon each of us, from time to time, to write a travelogue of the places we’ve been and the people we’ve murdered. Did I say murdered? It feels as though some members of our party would happily murder the innocent in our quest to destroy the guilty, but this is not the place to speak of my feelings about that subject.
The dawn of the third day of the 6th month of my 99th year, the Third of Majestic for all of you less understanding of my peculiarities, was one that matched the attitude of the group. Tyvernos, our diminutive and ever verbose warlock was tapped as the next to be taken to the lair of that ever to be damned Djinn. With a tear in his eye, or was that a drop of rain for it was in a downpour that we last spotted our friend, he disappeared from our knowledge. We had given him every benefit we could think of, including wiping sections of his memory, and hoped for the best for our companion. Indaris even thought to allow Ty to touch Oathbringer before he left to give him strength.
As everything else was sodden I summoned food and drink for the group, excluding myself of course. I ate wet jerky. From the midst of the storm a group of humans known to our guide appeared as if spectres of doom. They even gave the obligatory message of intrigue that should have sent all of us trooping off to slay the evil dragons of Dragonwright. It was all for naught. My companions, fearing the renamed Deathgate pass decided to triple our journey to Mishala by going around the mountains. Not one to strike off on my own, especially when there are dragons in the mix, I followed after my companions.
The next day, while rainy was not the downpour of the previous day. My new companion Kupyr found a lady friend in the bushes as we walked. I did not spy on him…much. We spent the rest of the day tromping through the well and truly sodden jungle.
The next day dawned to a clear sky, but if we thought our soaking was at an end we were sorely mistaken. The heat caused the sodden ground to release it’s vapors and fill the air with this little thing that civilized countries call humidity and here in the jungle we just called miserable. While we were slogging through the jungle a group of Tezcat, who I am sure just missed the memorandum stating that CrIsis should be avoided attempted to waylay us. Overkill and Ja’Dier were paralyzed by the aborigines, Mary climbed under the body of her man to protect her self, and the rest of us, with Ja’Dier’s mind magery, dispatched them to their place of everlasting bliss and/or punishment. Kupyr even got himself a bite of Tezcat flesh.
The next two days were quite clear of any harassment and we made relatively good time. The next day brought another being that should have known better. The sound of lions greeted us from the jungle, but unlike any lions we had heard in the past. There was a sort of multi voiced buzzing snarl/hiss any time the roar sounded. Chimera decided to descend upon us. Ja’Dier attacked them from his new place of refuge in the juvenile’s backpack. We dispatched them readily.
The next five days were again uneventful. It would seem that our fame was preceding us.
Five orcs thought to waylay us where much more significant threats had failed. We tried to dissuade them, but they did not respond to my entreaties in Gobblely. Being parched after my morning calisthenics I drank from one of the orcs when we finished dispatching them.
The 15th of the same month dawned and I burned a prayer for the fallen, specifically Drauka.
We ran into Hytril in the forest. I think that these are not the annoyance that the rest of CrIsis thinks them to be. Annoying? Definitely, but easily dealt with. You toss a few coins at them, let them play with a lizard and a squirrel and there is nothing to worry about.
Ty appeared to us two days after the Hytril. He was not alone. Nath Everall joined with him. What is there to say about the rest of our journey? The noble was mad, but not that mad. He thought to give us wealth, but only gave us a mere handful of Dragon Coins. The people cheered. Rog-tilda was fine. Overkill finally married his girlfriend. CrIsis became young.
All in all it was completely uneventful from the point we arrived in the town.
Penned by the hand of Asher on the 28th day of the 6th month of his 99th year.
Image from National Geographic Society