Rioters in the Mist

There Wolf, There Ghoul Pack

Well… The good news is that I’m not a frog any more. Being a frog was surprisingly uninteresting, all things considered. The reduced intellectual capacity really did a number on my ability to enjoy jumping many times my own height. Pity. Then again, I don’t remember the taste of insects, so I can’t complain too much.

I was rescued (accidentally) by the most amusing group of adventurers I’ve ever met. One excessively acquisitive thief, one half-orc with relatively little common sense, one wizard slowly turning into a werewolf, and one… guy with a stick who seems to be the only source of good sense the group has. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how they’re still alive. I think I’ll keep them.

Anyway, they rescued me from an apparent frog-genocide at my old home and turned me back by dragging me into a tower with some sort of anti-magic field. We then explored the tower. This exploration included me falling through the rotting floors of the tower twice. When we made it to the top floor, we discovered a small bedroom with very little in it except for a preserved head of some sort. Which smells of lavender. Strongly. I like lavender, but not this much.

We then spotted what we assumed to be a group of the locals chasing after my new friends (who, if I understand correctly, lit their mayor’s house on fire) and so we went on the lam, accidentally stumbling our way to the lair of the local werewolf pack. Before we left, the thief took the preserved head, which I can only assume will come around to bite us in the ass soon enough.

The thief observed a sister beating her brother to death with a rock in order to earn membership in the pack. Understandably, the thief found this somewhat traumatic. Less understandably, she ran to go retrieve the entirely dead body of the boy, thus alerting the werewolves.

We were able to parlay with the wolf who found us and convince him we had a shared enemy, so we retreated to the shores of the nearby lake to wait for our midnight meeting with the wolves. Unfortunately, the thief brought her new pet corpse with us. We buried the kid and lit a fire…. Which brought the local ghouls down on our heads like some sort of foul-smelling gourmet’s seeking a new delicacy.

We fought, but the surprise made it hard keep on our feet. The thief went down twice, even with my throwing out one of the few healing spells I knew. Unfortunately, I was the second member of the party to go down. I don’t remember what happened next.

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