Black Feather Blog
Artrilla's Journal 37
Tracy Borup
Mar 09, 2018
31st of Pharast and 1st of GozranEpisodes 46 & 47
An adventurer is at her happiest when she is beginning her next adventure. I am practically giddy with joy at the prospect of setting out to fulfill our promise to the Dear Professor and return the borrowed tombs. While contemplating what excitement lay ahead, we spied a caravan!
The deliciously delightful travelers are in need of my help. A member of their troupe has disappeared into the forest. It is up to me to rescue a fellow entertainer as all caravans are united in strong ties of unity. It is a known fact among our kind that we watch out for each other and assist whenever we can.
With Parod using his magnificent tracking abilities, we caustiously began our search. Before we knew it we were facing a gruesome spider wearing the face of a woman. During our fierce battle Pared and myself were poisoned by the villainous creature, We did manage to drive it back into the dank and overgrown vegetation.
Alas, the reason Parod had led us to the forlorn clearing presented itself to us in the form of the caravan mamber we had volunteered to rescue. Her sisters will be devastated when we return her corpse to them. Though I never quite understand this bond between other races, I do know that it will occur.
Sometimes I think Siris is a bit of a scavenger as he has rummaged around and found several treasures for us. Luckily for me one of the items was a jar of pickled garlic. How my mouth waters at the mere sight of such a delectable snack.
Kaleb performed a beautiful star themed ritual and revieled unto me the my cosmic caravan is the thrush. He has magically gifted my already abundant performance talent with an even higher ability to touch the hearts of the listeners. My eternal fame is one step closer to being assured. A mysterious mythral dagger was then bestowed to me by the gentle leader. I have named it Petros' Revenge and use it to end the evil monsters that murdered my Professor.
I am hurriedly scribbling this last bit of information into this journal because I have finally found a subject worthy of entering into the White Journal. Who would have ever thought that our Little Min would be one of the five solutions in overcoming the dreaded curse. It continues to loom over me like swollen clouds holding back a storm until it can unleash its mighty energy upon the quivering anticipation of the earth below.
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