Day 6 Sunsebb CY 576
Gather 'round, children of Orlane, and listen to old Vilma, for the air is heavy with more than just the usual winter chill. I watched them depart the inn at 9:00 this morning, a motley crew if ever I saw one, led by a new "Lady Lordship" named Leila. Now, this Leila, she’s practically royalty, they say, with hairs and curls and a monthly bill of a thousand gold pieces just to keep her "slumming it" lifestyle afloat. She brought along a young cleric named Aila, only eighteen and slight as a reed, and a squire named Colette Beaumont, who stayed behind to mind the horses and that fancy jousting armor.
But mark my words, the land itself is weeping. As they marched toward the Dim Forest, the elves among them saw what I’ve felt in my bones: rapid deterioration. The trees are rotting, the evergreens are shedding their needles, and even the woodland beasts have fled. It’s a grim, overcast day, and the forest feels like it’s exhaling a slow, chill breath of resentment.
They reached the Barrow Marsh, a place of wet earth and old rot, and ducked into the darkness of the Barrow Maze. It wasn't all just shadows and gloom, though. Deep inside, they found a room of roaring flames and geysers of fire—the burial place of Pinto the Pyromancer. While the others stood tentative, afraid of being burned to a crisp, the elf Lhoss took a leap of faith. With a spell of protection and also levitation, and some magical gloves, she crawled along the walls like a spider while fire erupted around her.
She reached a sarcophagus decorated in beautiful, enchanted flames and, after surviving a glyph of warding that scorched the air, she found the treasures. A ring with a ruby, a staff colored with flames, and a mysterious book. She was wise enough not to open that book, mind you—I reckon she remembers that nasty business with Tatania.
But the heroes’ glory didn’t last long. They moved to a door of wood and iron, and when they pried it open, a horrible stench billowed out, worse than a month-old corpse in a summer drought. It was enough to reset anyone’s "vomit clock". Poor Leila, for all her royal breeding, was the first to puke all over the floor, and a chain reaction followed until nearly the whole lot of them were losing their breakfast. Only Nikki and Dwerom seemed to have the stomach for such a foul odor.
So, they sit there now in the dark, clutching their new magical baubles and heaving their rations. Whether those treasures are greatly cursed or greatly blessed, only the next turn of the moon will tell. But for now, Orlane remains quiet, and I’ll just keep my eyes on the shifting mists.
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