28 Kythorn, 1361 D.R.
Well, so we rested for a short while, catching our breath from the fight with those stupid Bog Hounds (or Mud Hounds, if you prefer), but then we heard more of them coming, and given how much trouble these things had given the party's other warriors, we decided to try to find a more defensible location, like, say, the top of a tree or something. So off we went, picking our way through the bog and looking for trees that looked like they could stand up to the combined weight of our little group (having a couple of really big humans with heavy armor didn't really help much, I might add). So we walked and we walked, and eventually, I saw a large willow tree and suggested we might be able to camp out there for a while.
The only problem with this little plan is that the tree was, as we discovered much to our chagrin, across a forty foot stretch of quicksand type stuff. I would have hoped that dear old Samar would have warned us, being an outdoorsy person, but he didn't, so the first indication we had is when we all started to sink! Have I mentioned yet that I really really despise swamps? Just checking.
Fortunately, after a brief but truly spectacular fit of panic, I was able to use my rope and grappling hook to give us as line to the tree, and we did our best to pull ourselves over to it through the bog. My clothes will never be the same again! 'Dar and Al, of course, were to weak to save themselves, and even with my help, 'Dar couldn't get out of the bog (I was able to help Al get free by pulling on the rope, but 'Dar really really needs to lose some weight!), but fortunately, Sam and Tolec helped the poor skald get out of the bog, so we were all good. Up into the tree we went, all but 'Dar, who was still trying to get those last few feet out of the bog, when a quartet of Bog Hounds came charging across the quicksand!
'Dar frantically pulled himself out of the quicksand and ran for the tree, the beasts slavering (well, not really, since they're not really animals, but they would have been if they were real dogs) at his heels. Pri threw his backpack at the closest, knocking it over and giving 'Dar a few more precious seconds. He dodged the next one, leapt up into the tree, started climbing, and... the last one jumped after him, bit him square across the butt, and the fool started to fall back out of the tree (although in all fairness, he was looking pretty unconscious from the bloodloss and so forth). Fortunately, I was there to save him, and I leaned out and was just able to snag him and keep us both in the tree, thus saving my fellow bard's life, since Al was right there to bind that wound (you'd never get me to bind a wound like that, but Al's one of those unsqueamish types, so he didn't seem to mind).
All would have been well but for one small problem: Tolec's mutt Jothra can't climb trees, and the great oaf had forgotten to take her up into the tree with him, so the poor dog was the obvious next target for the Bog Hounds. They started to attack the poor animal, which fought back rather ineptly, so Tolec jumped back out of the tree to defend his furry friend and promptly clipped the nearest Bog Hound's side with his axe. I'm not quite sure why he didn't try to hit it squarely, but he seemed to want to rescue the hound, so I shot the one he'd just wounded, sending a couple of arrows into it with consumate skill, and it promptly disentigrated into mud and straw. Ha! Another victory for Jennara Raventhorn!
Unfortunately, there were still three more of the critters, and while Tolec and I were preoccupied with the nearest one, these other three had managed to pretty much gut poor Jothra. Our first real indication of this is when one of them came leaping out at Tolec from behind and clawed a deep gash in his back! Prihelm jumped down from the tree to help good ol' Dogboy, swatting one of the hounds with his sword and keeping it from getting to the warrior, but the other one got past the paladin and bit Tolec on the arm before he was able to puree the beast with a really quite impressive swipe with his axe. Sam was hiding in the tree and was able to bean one of the things with his sling, but there were still a pair of them left, and recollections of Prihelm's incompetence fresh in my memory, I decided I'd better help him, so I made an agile leap down onto the Bog Hound that was facing our paladin, thrusting my sword all the way through it and freeing Prihelm to take out the last of the beasts! We'd amazingly enough actually had a battle go out way! Of course, there was the little matter of Jothra, but fortunately, Prihelm was able to heal the poor animal enough to keep it alive, although it couldn't really walk or anything.
This wouldn't have been a problem if the others had been willing to follow my plan; I suggested that we merely camp out in the tree, since I remember doing that a lot when I was a younger elfess, but Al was afraid of falling out (I suppose he might have a valid point; being a human, he's probably too clumsy to maintain his balance in a tall tree for half the evening), so off we went to try to find our way out of the mire. Fortunately, I recalled that the sea was to the west of us, so even though we still couldn't see anything (remember that fog? It was still there.), we figured that if we went west for long enough, we'd eventually run into the ocean, and finding town from there would be easy enough.
Of course, this did involve heading straight towards where we heard the Bog Hounds coming from, but I thought this wasn't likely to be too big of a deal, since we could always do the tree thing again. What I hadn't counted on was Sam's persistent inability to tell us when we were heading off into a mire, so we found ourselves in quicksand yet again (to be fair, the ground had felt quite stable, but appearances were deceiving). Quite irritated, I tied a couple of ropes together and we were able to get ourselves across to a big tree on the far side of this long stretch of bog, but alas, in the mean time, another quartet of Bog Hounds had shown up, and we had to battle them just as we were making our way free. Somehow, though, we were able to fight our way through them virtually unscathed (I took a slight cut, which will probably get infected and I'll probably die of some horrible disease or something, but aside from that...)! I suspect the others were starting to feel pretty silly about being shown up by a girl or something, so in their efforts to prove their manliness, they actually showed a bit of competence for once.
We walked a little while further and stumbled across a small game trail heading in the general direction that we wanted to go! I was thinking we were all but home free, so excitedly led the way along it, but alas, things weren't quite so simple as they seemed, for we'd gone maybe half a mile when we heard more of those bloody Bog Hounds and what sounded like some old geezer crying for help! Rushing around a bend in the trail, we saw an old man being beset by five of the damn things, and being the heroes we are, we leapt in to intervene. This was not perhaps the wisest thing we ever did...
You see, although the battle was relatively brief, it was quite furious, and pretty much all of us were wounded. Thankfully, 'Dar wasn't hit, since he was barely on his feet and looked ready to pass out on a moment's notice anyway, and my wound, of course, was insignificant (my great agility let me spin away from most of the attack), but the others weren't so lucky, and just before the battle was ended by yet another brilliant move from yours truly (I've been doing quite well in recent battles), Sam was hit really hard! I told Al to go help him instantly, but the cleric waited for a few seconds until I killed the last of them, and by the time he got to Sam, the poor man was dead! I'd be panicking and carrying on like you wouldn't believe, except that this is the second time that I've seen Sam get killed by dogs (which is pretty embarrassing), and he turned out to be alive the first time, and besides, I'm hoping we can get him brought back, so maybe things aren't so bad yet (on the other hand, if we can't bring him back, then I'll panic and carry on and angst to my little heart's content).
The old man turned out to be Douglas Michaels, the gardener for Sir Burton Wescote of Wescote Manor, which was apparently close by. He was out in the bog getting herbs for the cook (I can't imagine finding anything worth eating in this place, personally; I mean, it's a swamp, for the love of the god's! But humans, as I've said before, can be very very strange.) when the Bog Hounds came out to attack him. This is, apparently, pretty odd; he claims that they're basically nocturnal, although obviously, he's rather mistaken about that! But he invited us back to the manor for a place to rest (I think he just wanted a competent escort so he didn't get eaten, personally), so off we went.
On the way, I asked about nearby churches, and fortunately, there's a nearby temple to Ezra (I'm no expert on religion, of course, but I've never even heard of him), though religion is apparently not a big deal around here, since the last time someone tried to build a temple (to Barn or Bern or something like that; I've never heard of him either), it was burned down by jealous rivals. Stil, there's always that slight chance that we can get something done for Sam, and I'm holding out hope, personally!
I also asked him why the locals thought that Wescote Manor was haunted, or cursed, or whatever quaint superstition it was that they had, and he told us a local legend to explain the entire thing. Being an avid collector of lore, I'll write it down just as he told it to us, without the ridiculous accent that these natives have:
About a hundred years ago, Burton Wescote and Ann Campbell were engaged to be married. It was an arranged wedding, valuable to both families. There was no love lost between the Wescotes of Mordent and the Campbells of Dementlieu, but the groom, at least, was willing to go through with the marriage. Ann's family brought her to the manor so the couple could get acquainted before their union, though Ann remained vehemently opposed to the wedding.
The rest of the Campbells stayed at the inn here in Mordentshire. Sometime during the night, Ann fled the manor into the bog, but not before killing Michael, one of the Wescote brothers, who apparently tried to keep her from leaving. Burton set the dogs after her. Later, he said that he had trained them to subdue their prey and ordereed them to do so when he loosed them. He and his dogs raced through the night after the fleeing Ann. The dogs outdistanced Wescote and gained ground on the girl.
She fled into the mists that always seem to rise near the bog, the dogs close at her heels. Wescote ran after, a few minutes behind. And whatever happened out there, no one really knows.
Wescote returned covered in mud and slime, his face scratched by brambles, and his clothes torn from where he had stumbled on his chase. They say he was crazy with fear...or loss. When questioned, he would say nothing of what had happened in the moors, except that Ann had died in the bogs and that he had had no hand in her death. Naturally, neither family believed him- Michael and Burton Wescote were known to be the closest of brothers, and everyone thought Burton had killed Ann in revenge.
The Campbells thought it likely that Burton had chased Ann into the moors for the express purpose of killing her, but no one could prove it. They moved back to Dementlieu, cursing the name of the Wescotes. The Wescotes praised Burton for pursuing the murderer to her death. The two families, who hadn't got along in the best of times, became bitter enemies.
Then, for some reason or another, the Wescotes began disappearing, singly or in small groups. Eventually, only a few ragged servants and the last of the Wescotes remained behind at the Wescote Manor. One rumor holds that the Wescotes fled to re-establish their family someplace else, a place where they could start afresh. Another rumor says that the Wescotes were killed by the great black Moor Hound, a dog said to the the embodiement of the Campbells' curse on the Wescotes.
Regardless, the people of Mordentshire and the neighboring villages know better than to go out on the moors when the moon is high and the mist rises. The howls sound as soon as the sun sets, and only a fool would challenge the beast, or beasts in the that make such cries. A few who have gone out seeking the lair of the creatures have found nothing, as though the monsters vanished during the daytime. Those who have sought the beasts in the night have been found in the morning at the edge of the moors with their entrails spilled about them. Needless to say, they pretty much leave the place alone these days.
Personally, I think it sounds like superstitious nonsense, but it's worth investigating. (I also learned that I've been confused about the name of the town we're staying in, but that's another story.) Still, this is not high on our list of priorities, as we have to take care of getting our wounds seen to and getting Sam to a temple before we can worry about this legend.
Our first sight of the manor didn't exactly fill me with confidence; it looked more like a derelict than anything else! The windows were boarded up, the walls needed paint like you wouldn't believe, and the stone wall that kept the bog at bay was crumbling in places. I'm beginning to doubt the hospitality we'll receive at a place like this, but we don't have a better option at the moment, so we'll just have to see. Gods, I hope we can get Sam back!