Since I got to drive today, I followed through on my own investigations after sorting out the skeletons at Fr. Tobyn’s tomb.

Mayor Deverin told me that Jen Soren, our local druid, was the one who prepared and laid Fr. Tobyn’s body to rest. Sadly, she was of little help when I finally tracked her down and questioned her. Fr. Tobyn was buried with nothing of value, she assured me, other than a partially melted signet ring bearing the symbol of Desna. And as his body was severely burned, he could not have been one of the fairly intact skeletons we battled in his crypt. This leads me to believe that those who made off with his corpse absolutely wanted his body. Somehow I doubt one of his faithful followers has finally saved up enough for a resurrection spell.

I told my new fellow adventurers the tale of the Late Unpleasantness, since the townsfolk didn’t seem interested in sharing the story with them. A bit reluctantly, I might add, and for good reason. The first thing they all wanted to do was to hare off to that island and scout about. As if finding the mouth of Hell would be an adventure we’re all happy to embark upon. Goblins are one thing, but the minions of darkness are a bit above my pay grade. Thankfully, our town’s stonemasons are significantly better at their craft than my companions are at locating buried catacombs.

They are also very concerned that the burning of the church happened a full month after the Chopper had died. They just don’t understand that we Sandpointers group the events all together because they happened at the same time, not because they are actually related. That said, I did recall that Fr. Tobyn was the one to bless the ashes of the late Stoot, and his church was burned down just a scant month later. Who knows, perhaps the partial destruction of the town was related. Maybe something did break free in Stoot’s crazy bird-demon ritual and hung around long enough to cause some destruction? Or maybe Stoot wasn’t the only crazy bird-demon worshipper, and we are in store for some more unpleasantness. The night grows late and I grow morbid in these dark contemplations.

This is intolerable! First some filthy goblins disrupt our Festival, and now this… this THING claiming to be one of the heroes who stopped them is in my shop, terrorizing my apprentices and REEKING of wet dog and musty hay. He dragged mud from the street in on his boots and I can only assume that the mongrel that followed him in was along in the hope of gnawing on whatever bones were left behind after he was done with us. I’ve read stories about orcs, I know what they’re capable of.

Anyway, it grunted through our language well enough to get out that it wanted a record of it’s exploits. I tried explaining that we were scribes not bards, but it was obvious from the way he looked askance at the quills and the desks that he knew nothing of the written art. He also stared pure murder out of that grotesque face at me when I started to turn him down.

So here I am, nearly shackled to a chair in my own shop at the whim of a “hero” and writing this in the hope that whoever reads his “story” can see fit to do justice for the horrors I’ve no doubt will be inflicted on us once I’m done.

Once I had quill in hand he rambled on at some length about chains and fighting and Meat. It took me three mentions before I realized that was the name of the mongrel at his feet and not just an overly fond reference to dinner. It was such a litany of violence I could barely keep my hand straight as I wrote it. He took those pages and burned them when I was done. Seemed to take some satisfaction in watching the paper curl and blacken. Seemed almost like some pagan ritual you’d see out in the wilds.

Needless to say I had to redraft the first part here when he went into getting off the boat for the festival and then killing goblins when they attacked. He liked talking about smashing skulls with Whirrun, and he would rattle some chains on his back when he did so. I fear what he will do with my bones.

After the festival he mentioned meeting the other heroes, who I think are hardly deserving of the title if they didn’t slay him on seeing him. Instead they decided to form a “company” with some elf as their leader. The city even gave them a letter of marque, not that this brute knows the meaning of it. He seemed proud to mention that he signed it himself, though he still apparently doesn’t know how to bathe himself.

The Company then set about meeting the mayor and interrogating prisoners (Goblin prisoners? Really?) and generally making a nuisance of themselves around town. Lonjiku Kaijitsu is right about these kinds of people, they just bring trouble and we’d all be better off if they left these affairs up to the guards.

The way they broke into poor Amele Barett‘s house the other night, not only murdering her husband but tearing the place apart and blaming it on a goblin? That’s how I know I’ll be murdered. There’s a gristly end in this for me, I’m sure of it.

Sandpoint thanks them for it too. I would have if not for meeting this, this, pile of muscle and scar and hatred standing over me as I write. He convinces me that they are the ones behind all our recent troubles. Probably were the ones who really did all those killings, not Jervis “chopper” Stoot.

They went out to his old cabin too, no doubt to dig up that bird thing the guards were talking about underneath it.

He’s starting to wind down now after mentioning that Ameiko Kaijitsu has been missing. Oh dear? Is this going to be an admission of murder? Is he some macabre killer who has to tell his victims he’s going to kill them before he does it? He’s stopped. Oh gods, here he comes. He’s going to kill me! He’s going to!

Selling most of my old things was a hard thing to do, so I could to pay for my boat ride to Sandpoint. Now after buying some other odds and ends, I’ve learned most good travelers need, my purse is feeling much lighter than it ever has before. Leaving my family along with there fortune seems to be harder then originally thought but I’m sure it’s the right choice. Just tough it out and I’ll be better off in the end.

Once on my way to Sandpoint by boat I met a half orc named Pile with a dog. Not a very pleasant person in manners, or looks for that matter, but never having seen a half orc before he did catch my attention. Taller and larger then I’ve ever seen. Other wise the ride was uneventful with pleasant seas and with a good wind for our sails.

Once reaching our destination I quickly made my way to the local theater to meet up with Cyrdak to talk a bout my performance for the Swallowtail festival later that day. It was all very exciting for me, performing in front of a whole town.

Unfortunately I didn’t really get the chance, just as the pastor was ending up his speech there was some loud screams from the back of the crowd as a couple goblins jumped out from under a wagon slayed a dog. Without really thinking I started singing to calm the running people and aid the people attacking these evil things. I reached for my bow to shoot the foul things down as well. They seemed to be coming from everywhere and in two waves. By the end of the whole ordeal we had captured two of the foul things and killed at lease four more of them.

Of the few people to fight there was:

• ziQo, a very small and quizzical gnome.

• Brenna, a very well skilled dwarf who took a pretty good
  beating from the goblins but took down a lot of them and
  was one of the ones to capture one of the two beasts
  captured.

• Silvir, an elven spell caster of some sort. His skills
  far surpass my own spell casting ability’s and the two
  of us managed to save a local noble from a very nasty
  goblin, who was very thankful for our aid.

It ended with two goblins captured and the town proclaiming us hero’s for saving it from the attacks. We decided to interrogate the ones we caught alive to find out how they got in and past the guards. Seems one of the goblins named Warchief Ripnugget has uniting the goblin clans in the area and were aloud in by a “Long Shanks”. I don’t know what to think of it all. We plan on going to the previous abbot’s grave tomorrow and Aldern Foxglove has invited us on a hunt two days from now in thanks for us saving his life.I good nights sleep should be good enough thanks for me for now.

Day 2

We headed out to the grave site to find it had been desecrated and two dead skeletons had been animated in the graves site. After taking taking then down we found no body’s of the deceased and there were traces that some strong magic had been used there. Brenna had finally told us of what the Late Unpleasantness was a bout that the whole town talks about. There were horrible murders happening and a skilled carpenter ended up being the culprit who was worshiping some sort of bird demon on the island just north of town. They burned the place down but I still wished to see what remained up there. We found nothing. This town is seeming more and more strange and tragic… I’m not sure of having left my home was a good thing for me now but I know I’m doing some good here.

The hunt was uneventful though and Aldern Foxglove was impressed by my hunting skills and kept making passes at me. Also Cyrdak Drokkus wanted to make a play of our heroism but the others of our little band were not up for it. Truthfully, though living it I don’t think they or I have the skill for acting. I’m still working on my singing through out this.

After some finishing investigation, the Company decided to visit the ruins of Stoot’s house. The stairs, having been destroyed, required us to climb up the face of the wall. The area around the house showed no traces of anything disturbed or tampered with.
The next day, the party went on the boar hunt. In the inn after the hunt, there were two scenes. One was the father of Ameiko Kaijitsu, Lonjiku Kaijitsu disowning his daughter is she didn’t leave with him. The other is a woman,.Amele Barett, yelling for help. We went to the house to find the husband, Alergast Barett, dead in the kids room, and a goblin hiding under the house. We apprehended the goblin after punching several holes in the floor and side of the house. There was an access hole in the closet of the kids room.
The next day, we were summoned to the majors office where we met the ranger:, who gave us a lay of the goblin tribes in the area.

A week spent rummaging dusty tomes in the even dustier town of Sandpoint have been uneventful. I was almost set to meander towards the next town most likely infested with rats, or fleas or weevils—usually all three, where drunk, un-bathed humans howl every night like dogs. Naturally, I avoid unnecessary cacophony humans seem to love and outwit their swarms of unruly younglings, as if they’ve never seen a gnome before…sheese. I do however sympathize with the children only a teeny bit. The bouquet of raunch odors rise exponentially close to the ground, although these fiendish rapscallions seem unfettered by the stench.

I was packed and ready to go well before the start of the Swallowtail festival. The sound of human ‘singing’ is much like the sound of Rhosgobel rabbits mating, which no gnome should suffer to hear. The problem was my riding dog Elvis was missing! I searched fervently till eventide as the festival droned on, looking high and low, well mostly low…and that’s when the hullabaloo began.

Goblins! They attacked the city, in an organized fashion which is unheard of. Of all the capable townsfolk to defend their own city only a few stepped up to help. It was all a blur, but I remember:

• Brenna- a flail wielding dwarf with the all strength and toughness of an ox. What struck me odd was her massive spiritual aura; as if several people were trapped in that burly body.
• Seoni- one of those loathsome ‘singers’ who warbles the horrid lovemaking noise of rabbits. Strangely, I was able to tune out her squawks and focus even better at the task at hand. She elegantly loosed some well-placed arrows that plunged deep in several of the goblins. Quite impressive!
• Slivir- an elf who’s dazzling spells confused and distracted primitive goblin minds. And this elf is fluent in goblinspeak, how peculiar.
• Jet- a rogue who slayed the foul goblin feasting on Elvis’ twitching corpse, he was kind enough to bring me Elvis’ bloodied rhinestone choker. My poor dog —may the planes show benevolence to his fuzzy soul

Up until now, I have only read melodramas in books, but here is one unraveling right before my eyes! This group I’ve met intrigues me, and I’m stranded without my Elvis. I am practically forced to stay and investigate these befuddling events with my new-found ‘friends’. We were able to interrogate the two captured goblins and I have more questions for these filthy gobs.

1. I am interested to know who would help goblins, based on footprints around the booby-trapped tomb and granting goblins city access by wagon.
2. Learn the history of Father Ezakien Tobyn, and his daughter-and any secrets associated with them. Is it possible a cult may use necromancy to revive his corpse? After all, the church is open to any religion.
3. Who wields these necromantic powers and why do they want Bishop Abalaster Zantus dead? What information can the bishop lend to help solve the puzzle.
4. Sheriff Hemlock maybe suspect simply because he ‘conveniently’ disappeared during the assault.

The upcoming boar hunt will literally be a bore. However, new clues to our mystery may arise. In the meantime I will need a new mount. Hmm, preferably a large cat this time. Goblins hate cats! And I already have a sparkly choker for him—I just need to wash the blood out. Perhaps I will call him Ninja!

P.S. you need to see the through these scandalous town hussies. Resist those big juicy, pendulous, succulent, baby soft, heaving, luscious tittays. They will only lead to trouble. Their pleas for ‘help’ and innocent doe eyes usually result in a furious big-fisted manling, or robbery. Resist ziQo, resist the power of boobs…

Lula, you’ll be happy to know I joined an adventuring company, so you can finally get out of this town and on to the open road as you’ve wanted. You’ll need to introduce yourself to Silvir – he’s the elf putting the group together and he’ll want your name on the charter. I’d guess signing a contract to go wandering about on the open roads might seem counterintuitive to you, but this is the arrangement I’ll agree to, so get used to it.

Silvir, as I said, is an elf. He’s a wizard or somesuch – you can’t miss him in the embroidered robes. He wants to go back to his home in the elven lands, I think. A cute little gnome is signing on, as well. His name is Ziqo, and he did some pretty good battlefield healing. He’s abnormally interested in goblins. Another fellow, Jet Adore he calls himself, seemed intrigued by our negotiations. He took out some goblin raiders in another part of the town, so he must be a good fellow. There’s also Seoni Songbird. She’s the performer we were looking forward to hearing at the festival, the one Cyrdak brought in from Magnamar. She said something about picking up more material for her stories and such, but I wouldn’t mind having her bow skills to get us out of a bad place.

Oh yeah, the festival… Um, sales were a bit slow at first. Savah put out some of my brother’s best work, but most people were just browsing the trinkets. The weather was fine and the entertainment was first rate, though, so I had fun watching the crowds. There were also lots of speeches, but I really couldn’t hear much from the back.

It would have been pretty typical for the Swallowtail festival, except that somehow goblins had snuck in. The place was crawling with them and everybody panicked. I wasn’t even wearing my armor. I handed out a bunch of knives from the stand – better that upstanding citizens gain them for defense than those filthy goblins try to use them on us – and charged in.

One mangy fiend was attacking a woman, and Seoni dispatched him with some top-rate archery. I fell in with two near a cart. Thankfully, their only victim was a dog. Those cursed creatures are always distracted by luckless canines. They knicked me with their dog-slicers, the saddest works of smithing I’ve seen in a while. Silvir shouted that we needed to capture one, and though goblins are much more useful dead, perhaps they’d be able to tell us how they managed to sneak past all our guards. He did something that knocked one clear out so we tied the little runt up. Seoni and Ziqo captured another one – he was sopping wet – and brought him over to join our captive. Ziqo was kind enough to patch me up

We were just starting to catch our breath when another band of goblins appeared out of nowhere over by the church, all wielding torches. The church isn’t going to burn again, I swore. Telling Ziqo organize a fire brigade while I tapped the groggy goblin to make sure he didn’t cause trouble, I charged off towards the intruders, hurling my best goblin insults in good decent Dwarven. I really should have found some armor to put on, but who would have thought the ignorant little savages would have found a way to get two parties in? They must have understood enough, because they turned to attack me. There were four, three of the standard disgusting variety and and a fourth that appeared slightly more cunning. I could tell, because he stood back, singing an obnoxious song about goblin cleverness rather than face me square.

Silvir was doing some sort of magic stuff by the waving of his hands, and Seoni started turning more goblins into pin cushions, a more appropriate use for the creatures than the one they were currently filling. Which was beating on me. At least, two of them were. The third, after throwing his torch into the church, found that it had followed him and began to attack mercilessly. Silvir must have my talent.

I kept my two from doing harm to unarmed villagers and finally brought them low. The third I easily dispatched after the torch had charred up a bit, but a greater threat, a goblin on a war dog of all things, was attacking Aldern Foxglove. I was a bit preoccupied, but it didn’t look like he was doing too well. What a tragic end that would have been for a man who’s life was defined by tragedy.

Seoni and Silvir ran over to deal with the threat and I was left with the would-be goblin bard. Someone had the decency to drop some grease around the fellow, so I took that errant torch and sent it hurling at the goblin singer before charging him myself. Ziqo and Bishop Zantus caught up with me and patched my wounds while I was pounding that nasty little goblin into paste. I would have died twice over from the damage those dog-eating vermin had inflicted on me, if it hadn’t been for good Ziqo’s healing.

Silvir and Seoni dealt with the goblin, because Aldern survived his encounter. He was pretty distraught by his perilous encounter and ran off like a half-wit. We weren’t feeling much better, our new little band, so we agreed to meet up in the more happy environs of the Rusty Dragon Inn for drinks. All agreed we wanted to see what information was in these flea-ridden goblins before we got too settled, though.

Business being business, I did manage to collect most of the weapons I’d handed out, and sold even more. Savah will be really pleased with our take for the day. After wrapping up these details up, we made our way over to the jail. Silvir can actually speak the goblin’s obscene “language”, so he fared pretty well with some prompting from Ziqo. Seems the offensive curs finally bred a goblin sturdy enough to whip them all into one tribe, and a “longshanks” helped them sneak in by way of several carts. I can’t believe anyone would be foolish enough to rely on goblins, but apparently someone is. So this “longshanks” and Ripnugget are in cahoots together, and they planned the attack to burn the town down.

Bishop Zantus came by Hemlock’s office while we were there to report a break-in at Father Ezakien Tobyn’s vault. The poor priest was too terrified to check it out himself, so we agreed to attend to it in the morning.

Then it was off to the Rusty Dragon Inn for some ale. The townsfolk are really grateful for our help, and we drank for free last night. Aldern Foxglove invited us to a boar hunt, so of course I accepted. Then Silvir brought up the possibility of forming an adventuring company. I’m sure he’s busy writing a charter right now. It seems very important that he do everything fairly. He was very meticulous in the distribution of gold and equipment from the goblins we killed.

The vault was a bit of a surprise. There were two skeletons waiting for us. I dealt with them efficiently – I had my polearm this time – and Ziqo had the foresight to scan for magic. He said there was some sort of necromantic magic cast here that was fading fast. Not surprising, given the presence of skeletons. They didn’t look like they came from this vault, though Father Tobyn’s crypt was stripped bare. His daughter’s tomb was untouched.

I know you’re still having trouble piecing stuff together, so here’s what we still need to do if you get control. We need to ask Bishop Zantus if Father Tobyn was buried with anything significant. I’m afraid the goblin raid was probably a distraction to get at this vault, and what a lot of effort to go to for a graveyard raid. Whatever was in here must have been important. If he doesn’t have any suggestions, find out who prepared the body for burial or put him in the crypt. Mayor Deverin or Sheriff Hemlock would be a good place to start. Those are our chief suspects for this traitor “longshanks”, and also the people we need to speak with about the contents of the vault. Ziqo seems to be a good judge of character, so he should be a great asset here.

The boar hunt might be a good chance to check out the countryside in an armed group, but if the goblins are unified, we could be in serious danger. Be prepared for the worst. Hopefully I’ll get to go. I haven’t gotten to do any decent hunting in a while, and this goblin attack has reminded me what fun it can be.

Today was the Swallowtail Festival. Near the end of the festival, around dusk, goblins attacked the festival where everyone was gathered. I held my ground as the townsfolk fled. Three other hardy individuals also held their ground: Brenna, Seoni Songbird, and Ziqo. The first wave torched a wagon. The second wave tried to torch the new church while their captain on a riding wolf tried to kill one of the prominent townsfolk:Aldern Foxglove. Songbird and I saved Foxglove while the others dispatched the last of the goblins. We were able to take 2 goblins captive and interrogated them.
The goblins entered the town in a wagon driven by a ‘longshanks’. The were ordered to kill everyone and burn the town down by Warchief Ripnugget.
The next day we headed down to the desecrated crypt of Father Ezakien Tobyn, where we discovered 2 animated skeletons set as traps. The traps appear to have been targeted at Bishop Abalaster Zantus, who would have been killed if he had discovered the skeletons.

has unified the goblin tribes. Goblins got intp the town on the carts by a ‘longshanks’