7th of Flamerule, 1491

Like Neverwintian water-clockwork, we arrived at the ominous ruins of Cragmaw Castle at midday. Upon our arrival, Reidoth bid us farewell, climbed a tree, and vanished: the squirrelly druid had no stomach for the fight ahead.

I lead a stealthy frontal assault, careful not to attract the eyes or ears of sentries; unfortunately, bringing up the rear, Gunx and Brick caught their attention. Sentry archers caught naught but air, but Gunx literally caught one of their arrows in his bare hand: surely a feat of reflex only a dragonborn would attempt!

Obliged to trade stealth for slaughter, I burst into the north snipers’ nest, and immediately dispatch one goblin, but faced two more. Jorad rushed to assist Tolarin and Gunx to the south, Eldritch Blasting another. Tegan gallantly threw himself between me and the goblin foes… perhaps the Tymoran zealot back in Phandalin was right about him after all?

Suddenly, three hobgoblins burst in to surround me, but I instantly reduced them to two. To the south, Gunx, Brick, and Tolarin likewise dealt death with skill. Tegan cleverly disrupted the Hobgoblins’ formation with a Thunderwave, while Gunx, Brick, and Tolarin continued to punch and “Hew” and smash their way through goblin and hobgoblin foes, awash in their brilliant crimson gore. Jorad was also present, and trying to help, I think.

Without warning, while Tegan was rapiering one hobgoblin, and Brick was cleavering another, the accursed roof decided to pick sides, and rained down upon me! Beshaba’s breath, this is how my parents died! While my fellow cunts carried on dispatching the goblinoid defenders, I struggled to my feet, quickly restored myself to fighting form, and found the last two enemies standing. A second later, Tolarin reduced their number to one.

This last, a blobby little gobby named Yegg, begged for his life and spilled all his information, though none of it was noteworthy. Yegg offered to enter our service as a cook: we accepted, and he fed us lunch, which was sweet succor after our bloody battle.

Reinvigorated, and with my Blessings of the Trickster upon him, Tolarin scouted forth with great stealth, and we came upon an old chapel. From the ancient altar, consecrated to a consortium of do-gooder deities, I happily looted a chalice (150 gp), knife (60 gp), and censer (120 gp). Brick discovered a golden statuette of a sun elf (100 gp) secreted beneath the coals of a brazier, while the other cunts went snooping about. Some cunt even found feeble Ol’ Sildar’s long-lost long sword and chainmail! (I suspect these arms may be cursed, but we shall return them to their owner.)

Moments later, Brick let out an unintelligible shriek that sounded like “GRICK!” as a terrible, nameless, worm-like creature fell from the ceiling upon him! Those of us nearby leapt to his aid: Jorad and I wounded the beast, then Gunx grappled it, and Brick cleft it asunder with his mighty Dwarven axe.

Tolarin returned to inform us he had found two more hobgoblins, whom he convinced that he was a goblin named “Jim from Cooking.” This brazen gambit inspired our next plot: stuffing the slaughtered ‘grick’ in a pot, we fatally ambushed the remaining hobgoblins under guise of room service.

A barred door could not hide the distinctive smells and sounds of a trapped owlbear, which we avoided. Moving on, we finally found the abducted dwarf, Gundren Rockseeker, alive but held captive by three adversaries: a drowess, a bugbear, and a wolf. In the ensuing melee, the bugbear, King Grol, was the first to fall, swiftly decapitated by Brick’s blood-hungry Hew.

The drowess (basically the elvish version of a tiefling, to my understanding) seeming as though she would fall next, suddenly transformed before our eyes, into the image of Dannak the White himself! Though the likeness could not be denied, my senses could not override my demon-blooded suspicions that this was some sort of infernal illusion. I pressed the attack without hesitation, and so did Brick, once again finding a fleshy home for Hew.

The once-Drowess, now Dannak-seeming changeling changed again upon expiration, reverting back to the amorphous purpleness of its true nature: a doppelganger! Though its tactics proved futile against our merciless Fellowship of Cunts, I cannot help but admire the clever mutability of this creature, a beast born to deceive. It is an inspiring example to emulate. I shall meditate on this further, begging Beshaba’s portentous guidance.

The wolf, more scared of us than we of it, escaped through a hole in the wall, leaving us alone with Gundren, finally rescued after more than twenty days in captivity. We also found a stitched leather sack, containing 220 silver, 160 electrum, three healing potions, and Gundren’s map to the fabled Wave Echo Cave.

Rockseeker has promised us 25 gp each, and a 10% share in future Wave Echo Mine profits, if we take him back to Phandalin, and continue on to discover the fate of his brothers, Nandro and Hardon. Beshaba continues to smile upon us, turning Rockseeker family misfortune into our cunty fellowship’s favour!

Weary of bloodletting, Gunx coaxed the owlbear out of its pen with a little grick-meat, and after feeding, the monster flapped off into the forest. We camp in the conquered Cragmaw Castle tonight, and head south tomorrow, Beshaba willing, klaatu barada nikto amen.

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