11.10.2009 | 5:03 PM
After meeting Captain Oldson, we returned to the Crow Feather Inn. Terai motioned us over as soon as we entered, looking upset. She said that she'd received news the day before about the son of one of her friends. She hadn't mentioned it because we were clearly still dealing with the goblin situation, but she could let it wait no longer. Her friend's son Inan is (or perhaps was, at this point) was a Crow Feather like we are. He had traveled to the northwest with his companions to explore the ruins of a supposedly-cursed town called Bellflower. We were asked to find Inan if it's possible to do so. If he and his group have met their fate, we should bring back his distinctive dagger as evidence. Terai gave us a description and we left the Crow Feather to gather what information we could. I had seen the name before on old maps, but knew little more than the general location.
An hour or so of asking around brought us to such an incredibly ancient human who was supposed to know something of Bellflower. I must say, humans do not age gracefully. However, he did not seem interested in speaking with us about it. After mentioning that we were there on behalf of Terai, he provided some information that may be useful. The old man was around when Bellflower was abandoned many years ago and he spoke of dark figures and the dead rising. Most significantly, he said that there had been a voice in the head of the residents which proclaimed "Accept his blessing". This is too general at this point for any of us to make a reasoned guess as who "he" may be.
There was little more to learn, so we set off on our wagon. The road took us past the rather ramshackle village of Whiskerfin on the shores of the nearby loch and up into the hills to the northwest. It was dark soon enough, so Will spent a few minutes to conjure nature spirits to set up and try and conceal our campsite. However, despite this we were set upon by wolves in the night. They must have been hungry as half of them went straight for our horse. The horse, however, proved to be more dangerous than the wolves had expected. At least one wolf lost their life to flailing hooves. Gregory blasted most of the rest into nothingness with precision blasts of arcane energy. The less said about my part in the fight, the better, though I vented my annoyance by procuring pelts from our attackers.
No further interruptions plagued our rest and we continued on in the morning. It wasn't long before we were able to catch sight of quick stealthy movement in the trees, heading away. It was only a quick glance, but it was enough. Ettercaps. And where there are ettercaps, there would be spiders. Thinking back to my days at the Academy, I realized that this part of the world had long ago been called the Kingdom of Webs until it had been destroyed by nearby human kingdoms. Apparently they had not done quite as thorough a job as I would have preferred. I'm reluctant to push on, but I cannot in good conscience stop here merely because I loathe all things arachnid. Why did it have to be ettercaps?
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