Dear Diary,
I apologize for writing this after the fact, but the truth is that I have had simply no time to record anything in the last few weeks. As I explain, it will become clearer.
We were rewarded for the goblin fiasco-- a few magic items that were beyond my skill to identify. But then again, my own skill is hardly anything to judge any magic item by. But one of them was a trading symbol of unknown power (I suspect he simply wanted to dump this junk upon us because he had no knowledge of any of it and therefore could not sell it) and a small pendant that I could only fathom carried some sort of light spell. It was fine with me; we received a respectable reward for the reacquired goods and I harbored no complaints.
Except for perhaps the asinine thief-type man, but I digress.
I had enough money then to afford exploring the town of Otoros, but all in all it was quite boring and in the end I hitched a ride to the more populated city of Krave. As chance had it, Polmund was there and so was Dolthin. The politician and the rogue had, thankfully, left earlier.
We arrived in Krave after a few days’ travel, unmolested. Upon entering Krave, we happened upon the politician and the thief again, unfortunately. However, one thing led to another and the whole motley crew of us was arrested for carrying weapons within the city limits. It would have been useful if the guards at the gate had actually detained us before we had to be taken away. How hard is it to put a sign up proclaiming 'no weapons allowed'?
I gave myself up without a fight and carried my grace to the jail as well as I could. Resisting arrest was another charge that I did not want to carry. If I had any hope of convincing whoever came to interrogate us that we were simply mistaken, a fight would defiantly mark my record. I shared a jail cell with the rest of my strange company. I guessed the time while I was in there based on how sober Polmund progressively became while behind bars.
Then it happened.
All of the police guards dropped dead. There was no light. No attack. Nothing. They simply collapsed where they stood-- all of them at once. We managed to escape the jail, and after some absurd gallivanting about (Dolthin insisted on obsessing over the dwarven settlement, something that I protested loudly to) we traced the cause of the calamity back to a large collection of 'blessed' daggers that had been distributed to the police force. The knives were actually cursed, naturally. Polmund, sort-of-sober (and after liberating the keys to the city somehow! Don't ask me how that happened!), traced them to a Necromancer in a nearby town.
To my amazement, there was another idiotic fiasco that nearly killed Dolthin. The fool attempted to pick up many of the cursed daggers at once and carry them about. He almost died due to the concentration of magic. Moron.
It was that last straw (and a sore throat from cursing the pompous BACK-SIDE out!) that made up my mind. These people had no idea what they were dealing with, and it would be fatal. I had to find out more about this mysterious necromancer before people died. I hadn't heard of any in this area, and I considered myself well-informed of the magical population of the region. I decided to leave this group and research while I still could, and then confront the necromancer myself.
The only one I told was Polmund. Drunk as he was, I trusted him more than the others. He was not a very likable fellow, but at least he was tolerable. He counseled me to find what I sought and then meet him (and the others, I supposed by extension) in a week or so in Dolumn, the town housing the supposed necromancer. I acquiesced to that arrangement, for I had little plan for beating a necromancer on my own, and set off from Krave as fast as I was able. I prayed that I would have no setbacks. I had none, but I still am wary.
Poor Thestel. My familliar has hardly seen the light of day thanks to these events. I fear the fox will have to sleep in my bag a few days more. I've been combing my connections, and I'm still struggling to find any leads at all. I must make haste for Dolumn tomorrow, and I have no time to lose. The longer I tarry, the drunker I shall find Polmund when I return, I fear.
Signed,
Morwynn Ashefoxxe
Tags: Morwynn Ashefoxxe Otoros Krave Terroth
