I was awakened by a strange noise early this morning. A voice, it seemed, called out my name, though I couldn't see where it was coming from. Danesti heard it, too, and she set off, half-asleep, to investigate. I followed, in such a hurry that I forgot to leave a note for Shane. But what would I have said?
"A stranger's voice is calling,
and acorns are a-falling,
they form a path that we must tread.
Strange new trees have risen,
They form a living prison,
They poke and prod us in the head.
We're off to go exploring,
while you two are still snoring,
sure hope you guys don't wake up dead."
Honestly now, who can be expected to think of these things when rousted out of their beds by strange boogeymen in the middle of the night? If there's anytime when common courtesy may be allowed to lapse, surely that is such an occasion.
We were clearly supposed to follow the path that the acorns, dropping in sequence, laid out for us. The voice was quite insistent upon this point. No sooner had we begun to follow the path then the trees began moving and shifting around us. At one point, I stopped to examine the ground. Apparently, during the middle of the night, courtesy is allowed to lapse, as a tree poked me quite rudely in the back.
The trees kept herding us relentlessly, with the voice calling to us at intervals, until we finally reached a hole in the ground, approximately 3 feet wide. It smelled quite rank and awful, not a proper burrow at all. And of course, our "friend" the voice called to us from -- where else? That's right, down in the dark, stinky hole.
As might be expected, we hesitated to enter such a place. The trees, however, would have nothing of hesitation. They rained leaves and twigs upon us, and when that didn't work, they began closing in on us. We briefly considered trying to break through the trees, but it seemed futile, and so we entered, Danesti ducking down to get inside.
I've started a map, which I shall update as we explore further. See the footnotes for more information.
Once inside, we immediately notice a trail of fresh blood along the damp, smelly earth. This disturbed me immensely, and from the looks of it, Danesti, too; but I didn't want to let her down, so I tried to pretend it didn't bother me. A muddy tunnel ran a short distance; we saw a small, cracked wooden door, and after listening at it carefully (for what?), we entered.
Surprisingly, the floor inside the doorway was worked stone, and the ceiling was of a height for humans, unlike the hole and small passageway. It was exceedingly damp in this room, so much so that the room constantly dripped, and I was quite happy to leave it.
I was even happier when, rounding the corner, I spied a large pile of rubble. By this point, I was beginning to suspect that we were in a tomb of some sort, and I was hoping to find confirmation of this theory in the rubble--some tell-tale marking on the stones, perhaps. What I found instead was a rather different kind of stone: a beautiful, clear diamond with no visible flaws, of almost unbelievable size! It's nearly as big as my hand--and I have big hands for a Halfling.
We followed the corridor further, around a bend, to two small alcoves, one on either side of the passageway. Here we had our first encounter with -- residents -- of this strange place; I would say living creatures, but these creatures were anything but. Rotting, laughing, men, long dead, yet springing about. Their putrid flesh was nourished not by blood, but by a nauseating green pus. No matter how hard, or how often, we struck them, they wouldn't die! They just kept getting up, coming back time and again for more...laughing all the while. That was the most unnerving thing it's ever been my misfortune to experience. We finally prevailed, though Danesti was sorely wounded. I made sure to burn the bodies, and we took refuge in one of the alcoves, blocking ourselves in with rocks, thankful to be alive.
It was in this state, some unknown length of time later (for I it was impossible to keep accurate track of time in that chill, dank, quiet tomb of an alcove) that Shane and K'Korasaad found us. Words are inadequate to express the relief I felt upon seeing them--once I realized it was them, and not more assailants. Why, I was even glad to see K'Korasaad, though it simply wouldn't do to tell him so. But I digress from my tale.
No sooner had we been reunited than we heard noises--some kind of voice or voices--from further down the corridor. Shane went to investigate, and when he didn't return shortly we went after him. We heard some sort of commotion, so we hurried--even Danesti, who should've stayed back and rested. We found Shane, and a Dwarf who would turn out to be Vargen Stonejoiner, a priest of Clangeddin, battling some animated skeletons.
We rushed to aid them. K'Korasaad hacked them with frightening efficiency, and the others acquitted themselves well, too. I have to admit that these combats are occurring far too often for my liking; all the more so since we face the living dead. That's an aspect of archaeology no one bothered to tell me about before. Apparently, investigating tombs can be quite hazardous to one's health.
Vargen, it turns out, is from Citadel Adbar. That makes us practically neighbors! He says he's been unable to leave this land since he arrived over a year ago. Unlike the others who see this as an ill omen, I see it as an exciting opportunity. Slimy dead things attacking you is an ill omen. A whole new uncharted land to explore--why, that's a blessing! Anyway, back to the point; Vargen's a decent chap, even offering to share his food with me. I could've sworn I packed some. It must've been dislodged, or stolen, from my pack on the ship when it broke up.
After a brief break, we continued exploring. I, for one, am dying to know what this place is. Well, no, scratch that. Poor choice of words. My curiosity is killing me, though--no, wait. Boy, I sure would like to know what this hole is, or who that voice is, and what's with the funny trees! Wouldn't it be swell to know?
After our break, we set off again. We've discovered another room, with more rubble! Time to do some more searching...in the name of history, of course. I look forward to reporting another exciting find.
History can go boil its head. There are terrible monsters in this place-- yes, MONSTERS--that no historian should ever have to deal with. The room was home to a strange creature, the likes of which I've never seen. As Danesti and I entered the room, the creature made the room darken. It dropped from above somewhere, and wrapped itself around her head. I think it was trying to suffocate her, and it came entirely too near doing so. Our new-found friend, Vargen Stonejoiner, was unable to dispel the inky darkness, and I had to resort to groping my way to where it was attacking her, and stab at it in the darkest darkness you can imagine.
I couldn't see who I was stabbing at. It was so terrible--I was so afraid I'd stab Danesti, but I couldn't let it just strangle her, and I didn't dare use my special powers. I thank Brandobaris, and the rest of our protectors and defenders, for guiding my strikes--I surely couldn't have done it alone!
Brandobaris has shown his favor in other ways, as well. Danesti found a magical dagger, and I found a pouch full of money! They're old coins, too, stamped with a face I don't recognize. Perhaps one of the locals would know, but I doubt it. I'll have to wait until we can get to a center of learning to identify them.
As for the face-sucking monster: the body is round, bulbous, and slimy, with several protruding tentacles; the whole being of a dark, mottled coloration pattern, mostly black and dark, dark greys. I've taken a few sketches of the horrid thing, which I shall attempt to make proper pictures out of later. The body is approximately the size of a human head. Fully extended, the tentacles would reach to the waist of an average human male.