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Cleric Journal: Day Eleven



I had entered a section of the swamp where the deeper water was confined to narrow channels with fens and bogs intermixed with small islands. I was considering making landfall to start a fire, maybe cook something, boil some water. Civilized things.

Of course, that was not to be. A group of brigands attempted to waylay me late in the afternoon. That old mace proved handy once more. As I am not a tactician, I’m unclear on the series of events that transpired, but I feel strongly that the undead arriving as the ambuscade was triggered may have bollixed things for the brigands.

I am ashamed to admit I was forced to kill several of the laggards. On the plus side I can happily report that the log with all the teeth seemed quite pleased at the sudden bounty. I managed to recover some coin from one of the villains before toothy showed up for his repast. There was a ring I would have liked to examine closer, but toothy was quite insistent. I’m happy to have walked away with all my limbs.

Later, just before sunset, I discovered the brigand’s base camp. I had to fight the perimeter guards, unfortunately, but Semaunya (may her foes always flee before her might) guided my mace and augmented my strength. I killed three of the dullards and two others fell among the undead, who dragged them into the swamp. I have a sneaking suspicion my entourage may grow by two more over night.

Once the perimeter guards were taken care of I poled my raft down a central channel and up to a small dock near their walled encampment. There I discovered that any followers or their ilk had taken that opportunity to abscond with the finest loot and run ahead of us, deeper into the swamp. I’m not sure they understand about the leeches. Did I mention that some of the leeches are two feet long?

One rather tall fellow had a hefty case held on one shoulder when he slipped and fell into a bog. The water boiled with the leeches. What a waste of treasure.

Watching the few surviving brigands flee before me gave me a sense of pride. I guess my reputation has begun to spread.   I thought about asking the undead gnomes, but they didn’t talk much. And besides, the one guy has a leech sticking out of one eye socket and it just gives me the heebie-jeebies.

I had hoped one of the brigand’s camp follower or captives would’ve stay behind for a bit. The last couple of days have been lonely. I wish those villagers had wanted to go after they heard my destination. I’m sure they felt unworthy of my glorious quest, but I’d sure have loved someone to talk to, if not worship with.

Just a note. It still burns when I pee.

My raft how holds two small boxes with various valuables such as assorted gems, some scrolls which I cannot read, some glass phials of different colored liquids that seem dodgy to me, and more food than I thought I’d ever see. The cheeses are the most delicious. I don’t remember the last time we had cheese in the monastery. I recall Brother Durham eating the last piece and taunting me with the rind.

I decided to spend a day or so in their abandoned camp. The raiment I left the monastery in had seen better days. All the fighting, swamp water and humidity, not to mention the flies, leeches and other fauna have left my once white garments blood stained and ruined.

I planned to meditate and consult Semaunya (may her scales remain water tight) on what to do about my clothing. I can’t very well continue my adventures stark naked. I’m not ashamed of my body, the sisters have seen to that, but it can get quite uncomfortable with all the biting things in the wide world.

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D&D 5E Player’s Handbook


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The wild ox; strength and power.


Creativity; words, music, and art.


The troll cross; wealth and prosperity.


The sun; energy, honor, guidance.


Personally earned or lucky wealth and prosperity.


The harvest; patience and promise.


The chariot; journey and travel.

Note: This is not the real book cover.