Gnomb - 02.3 - Dire Wolves Carry No Gold

As of this writing, it is my opinion that rumors of the riches to be found under Godsrage mountain are greatly exaggerated. Nevertheless, I found the nearby settlement of Portstown virtually swarmed with adventurers who, like myself, have come here seeking to garner profits. As such, finding a team with whom to go exploring proved comparatively easy. There is not too much to say about my first trip into the mountain, so to grant myself an illusion of the significance of my actions, I have compiled notes on my companions, of which there were four, and their contributions to our exploration.

First, a Half-Ogre who went by the name of Ereg. He(?) carried no weapons, and smelled funny, probably some kind of perfume, possibly designed to attract the attention of his own kind. Being unarmed, I expected him to offer little support beyond carrying loot, but he proved quite efficient using merely his fists and feet. It should perhaps be noted that he was the one who first alerted the pack of dire wolves to our presence, possibly due to his use of exotic scents?

Speaking of carrying our stuff, the Half-Ogre took a modest pay to carry nearly ALL the stuff of my second companion, a halfling… acrobat? (OOC note: thief) who went by Jarn. This crafty little individual proved unfortunately ineffective in the face of the challenges that met us on this expedition. During the single prolonged fight we faced, he spent a sizeable amount of time bounding up the wall before pulling apparently completely ineffective caltrops from his seemingly bottomless pockets. After this, he hung back, seemingly unable to provide meaningful support. However, I cannot in good faith discount his endeavors, for in a moment of crisis, he did expend a powerful magical healing item to my aid, for which I of course reimbursed him. He was also instrumental in obtaining an increased profit on selling what little loot we could find.

Then there was the feline, a graceful individual who went by [name]. She carried a graceful rapier in one hand, and in her other an impressive cloak and the only piece of proper armor anywhere on my companions: a single, massive steel glove. Her blade proved wickedly effective at carving up our foes. However, I am saddened to admit, she was knocked out halfway through fighting, and I think it may have been partly due to malnourishment.

And finally, the cleric. When first I met Gliyr Gorinsson, I was happy to go delving with a fellow dwarf. From the get-go, he proved useful to the group, saving us the expense of lamp oil by lighting his shield and my own to grant us something to see by. And then came the fighting. I could not tell what he was doing behind my back when fighting broke out, and I continued to have no idea until whatever magical attack he had cooked up struck my left arm with a burning pain. Okay, anyone makes mistakes, and at this point my face was full of a massive wolf, so it was not as though I had time to complain. Near the end of the fight, however, Gliyr had decided to lend his strength to the fighting, deftly swinging his axe into the fray. Or so I theorize; he was behind me at the time. And so it was that once again I found myself unaware of his actions until I felt the pain from its execution, this time in my left thigh, very nearly separating my leg from my body. (It was at this instant that Jarn thought to employ his gem of healing, for which I am immensely grateful, for without, I do not know how we would have pulled through.) I admit I know few details of the teachings of Igyn, but if they tell the followers of the faith to strike their companions in the back, I will employ a healthy scepticism towards the followers of the Cleanser in the future. Of a redeeming note, Gliyr did endeavor to patch up my wounds once the wolves had been subdued, and I begrudgingly admit that his debt in that regard has been paid.

After our very nearly disastrous battle, Jarn and I attempted to skin the wolves. Whether it be due to their unfamiliar anatomy or some nervous after effects of the battle I do not know, but neither of us performed at our best, ruining most of the pelts, but salvaging a few. In the wolves’ pile of refuse we found a gemstone and a potion (later identified as a potion of agility). The profits from the sale of these items and the wolf pelts allowed us to earn barely enough money to sustain our living for the next week. Rumor has it those who had explored the southern caves and, for whatever reason, the sewers, found a few items of real value. Hopefully I shall be able to find someone to delve in those regions in the future.

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