Journal of W. E. Tupper, Day 58-61

Day 58
I decided to check for any messages left for me with the tavernkeeper before we left town for the mine. The first one was a stern reminder from Colonel Stuart, stating that if I fail to report in by the next two-week marker (which would be Day 66, by my reckoning) then I will be counted as missing and the Sable Lions will respond accordingly. No actual mention of what they would do, but I'd be willing to bet it'd be something along the lines of shrugging and muttering something about scumballs. Well, Benton would at least. The other one was from Captain Sallambier, and I intend to save it for later. I must be sure to send letters back to both of them once we return to town.

Tally for today is 16.


Day 59
Eventually I am going to get used to these long days.

First, the passage to the coral gateway in the mine was mortared shut from the inside. The only other way through was the part of the mountain inhabited by the caravanserai. They charged us an arm and a foot, but they let us through. Then, there was nothing. No coral gateway, no crazy seacoast witches, and the others noted that the place appeared to have been looted further since they were last here. There was still a painting on the wall, though; one of the sunken city. Hrefna was shocked by it, but I just found it to be creepy.

Then, then there were the driders. We tripped an alarm when we were looking around, and two giant gray centaur-spider things decided to escort us out in little chunks. They shot web at us, which is expected from spidery creatures. The webbing was flammable, which was not expected. They used flanking maneuvers, which meant they were smart enough at least to follow orders, which is downright terrifying. I don't want to think about facing down an organized army of these things.

And then, oh then there was the drow woman.

Hrefna scryed up the presence of a single person in the sleeping quarters. I went in to sneak up and knock her out, so we could interrogate her; she shut me down completely. She told us in no uncertain or friendly terms that she is the owner of the mine, and that we should leave lest harm befall us. On our way out, Hrogar got burnt by a fire trap and I had to shake off the sensation of thousands of little spiders all over my skin. Drow humor, it's a riot.

Oh yes, and we can't forget the brigands. Once we got outside, we found a man ogling our horses. He offered to buy one, as he claimed he was travelling far and in need of one. We all refused his offer, and he went on his merry little way back to his lackey-laden camp where he rallied them all to ambush us. Fortunately Shell had been stalking him the whole time and told us their plan. I managed to work out a reasonable strategy of attack, and we set forth to ambush the ambushers. It would have worked, too, if we hadn't taken so long in preparation that they moved their setup closer up the road to us. Nonetheless, we they dispatched the thieves without a hitch. I did not contribute much to the effort save for the quiet molestation of a tree. We set up for the night in our would-be murderers' camp.

Tally for today is 75. Hah.


Day 60
Today was… well at least fewer bad things happened. It started with Fflam's skin looking grayer than it did yesterday. Hrefna's pocus told her it's because he's under the curse of the drider. However comforting it is to know that those things aren't breeding in a tunnel somewhere, the fact that you can be cursed to become one distinctly negates that comfort.

We're returning to Izmir with all due speed. I'm riding behind Fflam in the group just in case he spontaneously transforms and deigns to kill the first thing he sees.

Do driders have eyes in the back of their heads? Oh hell.
Tally for today is 2, I think.


Day 61
In all of the ruckus of the past few days, I had forgotten about Milya's letter. She wrote to say she is well; that she's hoping I'm alright, that the late report has a very good reason to be late that isn't my gory demise, and that I return before spring is over as she wants to go to the St. lEG'lgg Day festivities with me. Apparently Stuart's been missing me since I left, which she can only attribute to the fact that I'm out of range of his crossbow. Hah.

S[heavily scratched out] a She's met a book merchant. His name is Art. He set up shop out in the Scoops not long after I left, and he just so happens to share her interest in dwarven long-form mining epics. It sounds like they are getting along well.

Oh yes, and Fflam has yet to turn into a gibbering monster from the depths of nightmare. Good for him.