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Hiding Underground


Demon! Demon! Kill them! Burn them! Hahahahahahahaha! Sorry, just preparing myself. Anytime now, I swear, the clerics in this city will come bursting in here to to take the rest of us away like Will and New Guy. Personally, I still think we should just leave 'em and mosey along. We've dealt without them before and did just fine. But, backing up. . .

We're in the jungle, waiting for Sseth to show. Finally, Puppybutt brings him in as he was swimming up the river. I was trying to get some sleep, since I had taken first watch. But everyone was making so much noise it was impossible. So I pretended sleep so they wouldn't bug me, yet I could hear everything.

There's a bunch of drama between Sseth and Will. They really are not fond of each other. Something about a war 30 years ago and lizardmen attacking a settlement. But in a nutshell, if Will is going with us, Sseth is not. Nevermind the old shriveled lizard told us to look for him. No. . . their anamosity seems a little more personal. Like Will bent Sseth's old lady over a couple times, you know? But it worked out. Sseth meditated and the spirits told him to help them kick demon butt. Then Anwar gave him a present, the falcheon we took from the ifrit. Woo-ha! Those demons don't stand a chance. Hell, WE'D have a real problem with a 8 foot lizardman who was uberstrong handling a giant flaming sword.

And we're moving along. We knew elves would be real out of place so Islan put a spell on himself and me. Five steps later the spell is gone. Defunct. Next thing there's this ghostly looking elf stand by us. He's all see through and when he speaks it sounds like he's whispering across a great distance. I do get that the thing is our guide, it's offering free information, none of which is useful, and it was created by Lanathar. Well, balls. Anwar always did assume he was still lurking. Hopefully, we'll see if she was right. Or wrong. Whatever. So, with no good disguises available, we threw our hoods up and go up to the city guard with our usual bravado. Yes sir, officer, we have plague. Maybe you want kissie-kissie? No? Okay, we just see you later then.

So Will says he'll take us to a safe place, one of his friend's house. He's taking us through the city and I have to say, I've been to many different towns, but I don't think any town has ever smelled this bad. Body stink, and stale beer, dead fish, and tanning hides. Thought I was going to see my lunch again. So we get to the house. There's a chick inside. When she sees Will, we all realize what kind of a "friend" she is. And then she gets a glimpse of us. Serianna is a lovely woman, really, as long as you don't have pointy ears. She sees Islan and me and suddenly she's off her rocker screaming at Will and just acting like a wench. And then she starts speaking in elven. If we hadn't been shuttled out of the house so quickly I would have told her that her accent was atrocious.

So Will, kinda embarassed, takes us to another friend's house. His name is MacLeane. He's alright. He's an apothecary and I guess he hunts ghosts. Huh. Funny. In my experience, the ghosts typically hunt you. Apparently this is a city that has grown from shipwrecks. Somehow, the mists that surround the area are just a magnet and survivors end up here. Though there haven't been any wrecks in the last thrity years or so, so most of the younger people here were born here. Bet they don't notice the reek.

Then MacLeane eyes Islan. Says, guess what? You really do have the plague. But it's okay. He's been working on a cure. In fact, he's been administering it to a young elven lady by the name of Threnody. Then she shows her ugly mug. I was ready to slid my sword between her ribs, but MacLeane wouldn't let me and I have no real desire to get us kicked out of the only safehouse available to us. MacLeane carries her back to her room; she was so weak that she dropped the dagger she was holding. Hmmm. Well, plenty of time to take care of her later. She always seems to come back anyway. But then the city guard shows up and takes Will and New Guy away. And now we sit. Islan scribbling in his books. Anwar pacing. Elana resting. Maybe I should ask if MacLeane has a whetstone. I think I should sharpen my blades.

From the journal of Arilyn

Contributor: Jess Landin