(translated from Gnomish Shadow Cant)
Julember 10, 345
The Guild is being ignorant and silly again. As a result, my jobs have been curtailed and prospects are glum for the near future. So, I'm headed to Siggy's for a drop and to see what's up and what's down. Maybe I'll take my show on the road. I hear there's a travelling circus in town.
Julember 11
Well, the good news is I did do a bit of travelling. The bad news is I woke up from a bender with a new tat.. err sort of. I went to Siggy's and had that drink, which turned into several, which turned into a party thanks a to a group of explorers celebrating a good haul. As it turns out, the whole thing was a ruse. Our free spending friends turned out to be a group of slavers called the Red Shard, and our drinks had more than alcohol.
I woke up in a slave wagon with a group of strangers for travelling companions. Getting our bearings, we discovered we were bound for a rendezvous with a slave ship in Henden. We had some kind of magical bracers on that acted as chains. Despite the bad news, we were well on our way to freeing ourselves when the caravan was attacked by a group of dire wolves and their lycanthrope leaders. The freedom fighters went by the title, Clan Bloodfang. Being the nice chaps that they were, they helped us regain our supplies and pointed us in the direction of Henden, and a witch who might be able to remove our uncool new magical slave tattoos, even throwing in the slaver's horses.
My new found companions and I made our way into Henden by a different road to throw off suspicion, sold the horses and got directions to the witch's house. Burrin wanted to pay back the Red Shard by sinking their slave ship, but everyone eventually decided that removing the traceable tatts should come first.
I suppose I should take this opportunity to describe my travelling companions. From most ginormous to least, not including yours truly, there's Yanorn, half-orc barbarian type who was working as a strongman in the circus before his abrupt but short-lived occupational shift to slave and back. He seems nice for a bloke who could rip your arms from their sockets.
Next there's Burrin Scarskin. After the name I'm not sure how much description is necessary. If I hadn't already mentioned Yanorn the Enormous, I'd say Burrin was the most thewed adventurer I'd ever met. Where the Half-orc seems mellow, Burrin seems... let's go with driven, since fiery would be too much of a bad pun. He's a bit of a fanatic but at least not overly interested in converting heathens. I think his sword weighs more than I do...
And last there's Mathias, a handsome sorcerer (amazing how often that happens) who prefers not to walk. He's not overly talkative but for a human spellslinger he seems solid enough. Not megalomaniacal at all.
So we headed west and we're now prepping a camp. All in all, an eventful and fun-filled day. And I'm not just saying that cause I'm up 300 shiny.
Julember 12
I asked a friendly Meadow Lark to lead us to the witch's house in the morning. Her name is Alarina*. She was very nice and in addition to breakfast, she gave us a map to a temple in the mountains to the Northwest that can remove our slave tattoos. She also filled us in on the Red Shard and their plans. Apparently the tattoos are to induce a mad drive to fight and die as sacrifices to some big mucketymuck demon on the Red Shard's island. One more stone on the pile of reasons I'd like this flesh art removed.
As repayment for her kindness, we offered to free a forest cat friend trapped by some local foresters. The magical kitty had a brood of kittens with her. As Burrin and Yanorn staged a distraction for the trappers, Mathias and I subdued the remaining forester and freed all the trapped beasties.
Upon returning to Alarina's, we were rewarded with the newest member of our party, a tiny forest kitty we've dubbed Scrunt, who the witch assures us will mask our tattoos from unwanted divination until we get a chance to have them removed. He's cute, and unlike his mother, he can't yet speak telepathically with us, though he seems smart enough.
Thusly protected, we bade farewell to our hostess and began our journey. We are camped on the road now and Scrunt is currently trying to ruin my hammock with his tiny claws and Burrin is burning dinner. Only a day has passed since the tavern mishap, but somehow it seems longer. May the Lady of Fortune continue to smile upon us.
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