When Shashta told me it was time to seek my path outside of our small home, I admit my heart dropped to my toes. In the eighteen years I have lived within the less than rich hovels of Heilian, I have made my place. I am known and for the most part accepted despite my heritage. There are those that I would say that even like and enjoy my company.
Sadly, I believe what she says is true. More and more often nightmares visit me in the night and while I would like to believe they are simply the product of an overactive imagination, the smell and taste of brimstone upon waking always lingers, a dark promise that everything is indeed not alright.
Perhaps the mysterious fates knew it was my time to set off on my own for it was within just a week when a new friend of mine, an elf wizard who had sought me out at one point simply out of curiosity by the name of Arnexus, approached me about joining him in escorting a man of the Queen’s to Jaegar Hills. Without much thought, I accepted as I felt there was no clearer sign. So with Thatch by my side, we packed, said a tearful good-bye to Shashta and set out to meet Arnexus and other individuals he had gathered for the journey.
If there is one thing I can say about Arnexus, it is he has the ability to meet a array of people. Of our party there were two roguish types by the name of Geena Tealeaf and Connor Trevelian, a halfling and human respectively. There was also a warrior who apparently has an interestingly close relationship with his horse named Arn Fellsoul and a woman cleric of Ninkali who calls herself Slyph Andersmith. I write this all down now because I’m horrible with names and wouldn’t be surprised if I forgot any of them. Oh, and the Queen’s man is William Croftsly.
Everyone appears to be friendly enough and I have yet to receive any outward mistrust from anyone though having my hair cover my horns for the most part helps, I’m sure.
Our journey was going, well, rather boring to be honest until I had one of the worst nightmares yet one night, if one can call it a nightmare. I was attacked within my dream but my attacker was myself. I’m not sure what to make of it. Most frightening of all, is there were bruises around my neck once I woke up, the ground around Thatch and myself was completely charred and my tent had flown some yards away. And brimstone, always the smell of brimstone weighed heavily around me. But worse than all of this was the death of one of the caravan horses by a demonic serpent/eel monstrosity from Dogan’s domain. Once it was released from the horses belly, it immediately rushed towards me screaming “KILL YOU!” Arn sliced the thing in half before it could reach me. I had thought Arn perhaps a little dimwitted at first but perhaps I’m too quick to judge.
After this fiasco, I do not know what my companions think of me right now. I don’t know what to think of me. Who is haunting or stalking me? Does Dogan want me dead and why? There are so many questions unanswered now. Thankfully, no one voted to leave me behind so I have continued on with our journey.
It was soon after this that Connor had made the discovery that someone is spying on William within the caravan who is not part of the crew. A disguised man, it would seem. Apparently he is employed by someone but Connor was not able to get a good look at the man. It is a shame Connor was not blessed with better eyesight. We chose to leave the matter alone for now as we don’t really know anything about well, anything. To watch it simply unfold, I suppose. I do like making observations.
Now that our journey was starting to be interesting, our caravan came across a small village that had been completely savaged with all able body men, women and children having disappeared. We believe they were taken by slavers and William insists we go rescue them. As the name has paid me to follow him and the idea of slaves don’t really sit well with me or many of my companions, we have agreed to do just that. It will be good to face a foe I can see.