Ya Cannae Poison a Stone, Pal

Right, where was I?
 
Sitting on spider carcasses that were stolen from me by an elf bastard, if memory (and the wee read back I just did) serves.
 
Well surprise, sur-fuckin-prise, the deeper we walked into the forest after that little fracas, the more webbed up and creepy the trees became. Didn’t take a smart-arse wizard to tell you that we were getting closer to the eight-legged bastards’ nest.
 
Of course, I wasn’t paying enough bloody attention and I trod in a web trap on the ground. Out of nowhere, more of the spider buggers suddenly dropped from the trees so it was time to make amends for not killing enough of ‘em earlier.
 
Well, I would’ve done if I hadn’t been stuck to the bloody ground and face to face with a giant half-human, half-spider creature who looked to be their leader.
 
(Torwynn, the Druid lass, would tell me later it was called an Ettercap).
 
I say was because it’s now a sodding ex-ettercap. Aye, I cut myself free and then freed the ettercap from all the lumeros-damned blood out of its throat with my axe. Even ripped out a tooth as the shite fell to the ground.
 
THAT’S HOW YOU KILL SPIDERS, NOT WITH YOUR FANCY ARSE ELF SPELLS OR TOY FLAMETHROWERS.
 
And while I was doing my job and killing the big man, the others were working through the spiders that had dropped down. Bort had his wee flame throwing gadget cooking ‘em, Thal was doing the same with his holy fire and Torwynn was up and down trees as bear ripping off faces and tearing ‘em up with her claws.
 
Rynaar did his thing with that long stick of his but don’t think I didn’t see the jessie half n’ half run away to heal up after he took a few scratches through the fight. WIMPY BASTARD.
 
‘Course I was just fine, thank you very much. Barely a scratch. All those spiders trying to bite my arse but newsflash, ya bawbags, you cannae poison a stone.
 
Definitely didn’t need Thal’s healing moon ray or whatever the bollocks he used. Nope.
 
AND ANYONE WHO SAYS OTHERWISE IS A LIAR.
 
Just a few wee scratches, was all I took.
 
SCRATCHES.
 
Anyhoo, once the spider buggers were all dead, the forest cleared itself up. Funny how magic works.
 
So we searched the area. Bort pulled out his jug and it filled with honey. I’d tell you how it tasted but filling a jug with honey while our Druid is a FUCKING BEAR meant the honey lasted about as long as it took you to read this.
 
I found some poison in the ettercap’s glands so I’m going to use it on my axe when I’m fighting some really nasty buggers and Bort gathered up some of the spider’s thread to sew himself a cloak. It’s going to make the sneaky little shitbag and extra sneaky little shitbag, at least that what Bort claims.
 
After guzzling all the honey, Torwynn turned back into a happy looking elf and found herself a bone amulet. She seemed quite taken with it, so fair fucks, she can keep it.
 
Finally we sat still long enough to feel rested and then deeper into the forest we headed. That was until we came across a statue. Beautiful looking thing it was, carved by a master let me tell you.
 
UNTIL IT OPENED ITS FUCKING EYES.
 
Gave us a riddle too. I’m not gonna tell you what it was because before the thing had finished speaking it, Torwynn had solved it, and the vines behind it were suddenly parting into a gateway into a grove. I put it down to some Druid tree hugging shite. Maybe in the forest made her extra smart or something, I don’t know.
 
Anyway, in the grove we found the thing Old Tom needed to do whatever forest cleansing shite he needed and also some mushrooms (very tasty, i took a bite and could see for miles!) and moss off a stone (also ate that but I didn’t feel anything apart from wanting to slink around a bit). Also some golden sap, buggered if we knew what it did but I wasn’t allowed to eat it. YET.
 
SO.
 
Took it all back to Old Tom, who said he could turn the sap into some healing potions which we could pick up the next day, thanked us for saving the forest, gave Torwynn her gilded stuff and an amulet and she snatched those things up like an Elf possessed. I shite ye not, she’s part magpie, that one.
 
Thal bought some herbs to smoke then had the audacity to bollock me for saying Lumeros’ name. Honestly, I don’t know what these surface folk are on sometimes. Strange customs.
 
After that Bort managed to convince Torwynn to show him the charm long enough to have a wee gander at it. Apparently it can help you talk to animals if you’re a Druid. Would’ve thought the tree huggers could do that anyway but the more you know I suppose.
 
Should’ve given it to me so I could’ve told those damn spiders you cannae poison a stone.
 
Then we went back to the brewery to rest for the night, after swinging by the church from the other day for Thal to check something. Buggered if I know what he was looking for (probably some pain demon the kinky fuck) but he didn’t find a thing.
 
RIGHT.
 
Had another one of those dreams. The wake up with the red crystal in my hand kind. Same bloke standing the other side of the sea calling my name, so I asked him his. Says he’s called Dante. Never heard of the bugger, wonder if he’s my ancestor? Seems strange given he’s so tall but some dwarves have a height complex so maybe he’s one of ‘em? Unless one of my great great etc etc grandmas had a wee fling with a human. Not that I’d blame the bloke, my line is known for our lustrous beards, I bet hers was impossible to resist.
 
Long story, short, this Dante bastard said he wanted to show off his power so he switched the dream back to the mountain. Very impressive, it felt like I was back home, and no one’s gonna be able to do that unless they’re an ancestor if you ask me.
 
Then I asked him to really show he was powerful by waking me up.
 
He did! Stupid bastard, fell for the oldest trick in the book.
 
Won’t lie though, I’d been holding that crystal tight this time, had cut my hand on it’s edge. Couldn’t see any blood though, which was odd.
 
So I asked the gang if they were having weird dreams - that weren’t from the crazy shit Thal and Rynaar were smokin’ - and they said no. None of them had heard of a Dante bloke either so maybe he is an ancestor of mine.
 
Next up was a trip to Old Tom to pick up the healing potions. While we were there I asked him about Dante. He said Dante was some kind of Demi God and I had to read up on him in the Rivenspire library.
 
READ?!
 
LIBRARY?!
 
Fuck me backwards. I think next time I’ll just have a chat with him in my dreams.
 
Felt like we’d done all we could in Eldbury so we headed up to the river to try and take a boat to Rivenspire. Got to a fisherman’s place and Rynaar is a closet capitalist, let me tell you. Any chance to try and make a buck, ol’ half n’half is about it. Fair play to the lad, got to give him credit for trying.
 
I got grumpy when the fisherman, Roger, called Torwynn an elf bitch because she got bored and wandered off. Fuck him. No one speaks to a woman like that, especially not my friend. Only I get to insult the elves in my party, PAL.
 
After a small negotiation between Roger, myself and my axe(S), we’re going to stay the night and if Dante shows up we’ll have a wee chinwag about life.
 
Bort convinced me to work his magic on one of my hand axes. I watched the little shitbag the whole time but he’s done something to it that always makes it come back to my hand after I throw it. Like a boomerang.
 
A BOOMERAXE.
 
Like I said, he’s still a wee shitbag, but he’s a good wee shitbag. They all are. The elves, the half n’ half… they’re good people.
 
Right, going to get my arse to sleep.
 
Tomorrow we head off down the river, what could possibly go wrong?