Serpent's Skull

A Dangerous Path

The travel was not only slow, but FAR more dangerous than I imagined. We cleared the way for the caravan, slaying wights, giant apes, dinosaurs, wizards, a troll zombie, hostile natives, a meat-eating tree, and a strange ghostly shadow creature. Still, none of us have fallen. Well except for a few Sargavan soldiers. I have started honing my speed and power in combat, felling or maiming most foes with a single blow. Every so often I feel my orcish legacy fill my mind with violence, but I have learned to control it and use the rage to great advantage. Glib has come to surprise me yet again. The little bastard can now throw explosive fireballs that leave only burning death after their impacts. Who knew such power could fit into such a small frame? I am more glad than ever that he is my oldest companion. I don’t know why he follows me around but he certainly seems to enjoy himself. As it turns out, Goyle can definitely fight. He is nigh indestructible behind his layers of metal, and when a blow does land he seems to not even notice the pain or blood. He attacks with a large polearm skillfully in one hand. Bary- our scout- accurately flings stones with a sling staff. Funny I know, but our dead foes with neat little holes in their heads don’t find it so humorous. The bird he rides is a fast bastard with a nasty bite. All in all an unlikely but effective warband.
Unfortunately Kyara, our healer, was assassinated during a resupply stop in Kalibuto. They struck at night and managed to take her out before falling to our combined might. I quickly questioned one before slitting his throat- a more merciful fate than I would normally give, but I was in a hurry. It seems that we have competition. What once was an expedition to retrieve lost treasure is now a race. Bodies on the road corroborated the assassin’s information. It seems our foes are Red Mantises and The Aspis Consortium. Both powerful foes, worthy of our attention and anger. At present I am writing in our camp in The Screaming Jungle- a place of constant moisture and discomfort. We just killed some gnomish creatures who tried to ambush us. We are closer to the ruins than ever. Besmara willing, the next time I write we’ll be laden with treasure.

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