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Cleric Journal: Day Fifty-Eight

DearFatherMulcahy

 

We took assessment the next morning. The mop up of the kobolds had taken another hour or so. Liz lost them in the deep water and spent a long time swimming deep, losing her pursuers and basically confusing the whole lot of them. I caught up with Sparkle just as the kobolds were breaking into smaller groups to start looking for us. We wiped them out in no time.

But what about Wizard Tim, you may ask? What indeed? We arrived back at the kobold camp, regained all our gear and generally loaded up with anything that looked edible, drinkable or valuable. There was some ale, some rations from previous ambushed adventures and some meat of mysterious origin that we all opted to pass on. There was also some small amount of coin which Sparkle insisted we take. “You never know when you’ll need that last copper,” she advised.

Then we followed Sparkle to cave she’d been hiding in since the dragon attack.

We set up a guard rotation, three folks this time, so longer sleep, less interruption. I took second watch since it would mean interrupted sleep. I wanted Sparkle and Liz to rest up since I had to heal them both before we made final camp.

All in all we killed forty-five kobolds: thirty standard and fifteen flyers. I think flying kobolds are not quite as horrible as stirges, but they were pretty close. I just found them disturbing and flawed. Whichever deity was responsible for them should be punished.

When the day broke and we were all awake, we discussed Wizard Tim and why he had screwed the kobolds and why he’d wanted to first steal our stuff and second to capture me and keep me alive. It seemed like a convoluted series of events that made no damn sense. We came to no logical conclusions though Liz did offer that perhaps wizards are all just crazy. I felt like Sparkle wanted to say something but was holding back. Perhaps it was guilt for having been part of the jerk’s adventuring party. If he’d rolled in casting lightning bolt, fireball or any of a dozen other catastrophic spells he knew, we’d have been toast. We discussed our observations of Wizard Tim, how he’d been so weak and frail, but a nice guy. Then he’d turned into an ass. Again, Sparkle wanted to say more, but something held her back. I chalked it up to battle fatigue and the exhaustion that comes from being sorely wounded and healed so quickly. It took a toll on all parties involved.

We remained in Sparkle’s hidden camp for the rest of the day. She to recover from her injuries and me to catch up on the journal. Liz explained how important this was to me and how it was part of my worship. This seemed to intrigue Sparkle and she asked several questions about my beliefs, our order and the form of rituals I performed. She seemed especially interested in my collection of holy symbols. She said she was familiar with certain esoteric orders and knew rumors of an older sect of a fertility goddess that sounded similar to our order. She asked some personal and probing questions that I refused to answer. There are some things I won’t discuss in front of a child, and while Liz was true friend and ally, she was still a child.

Sparkle looked at me funny, but acquiesced. We all tended to our personal needs, sorting through gear, and such for the next thirty minutes or so. Then, casually, Sparkle mentioned that there was good fishing water half a league east of the cave that had proven safe and was well beyond the edges of the kobold’s normal hunting zone. This interested Liz who offered to go attempt to spear us some fish. Food was always a concern, so we agreed she would go, but would take care with Wizard Tim in the wind. Sparkle felt fairly sure that Wizard Tim was off on the far side of the swamp, near where we’d left him, frankly. She said there was a fortified encampment there that he was likely holed up in and would be for several days.

Liz thought that made good sense and as our supplies were running low, traipsed off to bring forage for food. Sparkle gave her just about thirty minute head start then jumped me.

I know what you’re thinking, but she had not betrayed us. If you can believe it she wanted to worship in the secret ways of our order. I had not done such with another practitioners in some time and my abilities were hampered by exhaustion and recent captivity. However I had learned from two of the best and in the end we reached a point of nirvana that satisfied us both.

After a brief nap we repeated the rituals once more, but at a more leisurely pace. This time I was able to fully perform at a level that Sister Agnes would have approved of. Sparkle certainly did. Afterward she slept like the dead. I worked on this journal more, catching up with the days I had been held in captivity. I found myself humming one of the sacred chants Sister Edna had taught me. It revived my flagging will and sorely depleted spirit, I can tell you. I even stood on the chorus about the Girl from Nantucket, throwing my arms wide as I sang the lyrics to the wide world.

I had not felt that joyous in weeks.

Liz claimed to have heard me on her return trip, but made no other comment. We made a lovely fish stew and ate our fill. Sparkle remained sleeping throughout the afternoon. By nightfall when she had not stirred I checked on her and found she only slumbered. She had the cutest dimples when she smiled and I prayed that her dreams were free from pain and terror. Unfortunately I cannot say the same about mine of late, but that is a different entry, a different tale.

I took the first watch and Liz went to sleep with a full belly and a light heart. As I wrote here, I heard her chuckling and whispering the lyrics to Nantucket. I doubt she fully understood the ritual language, but she seemed happy enough with the tune.

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What I'm Reading

 

D&D 5E Player’s Handbook

 

Recent Comments

Uruz

The wild ox; strength and power.

Ansuz

Creativity; words, music, and art.

Othala

The troll cross; wealth and prosperity.

Sowilo

The sun; energy, honor, guidance.

Fehu

Personally earned or lucky wealth and prosperity.

Jera

The harvest; patience and promise.

Raidho

The chariot; journey and travel.

Note: This is not the real book cover.