Date: 4 Julie 2025
Chronicle Day: Day 97
Abercrombie’s recollection, frae the edge o’ death and the storm that followed.
I came tae. Too late. Glynn’s lifeless body lay beside me.
The gnolls were still near. I shut ma eyes, feignin’ death, hopin’ they’d pass me by.
Then it came—a sickening crunch, the tearin’ o’ flesh.
I listened, tryin’ tae block it oot. But then—a lion’s roar, and harsh words.
I roused. Rage and grief burnin’. I helped fell the remainin’ gnolls, avengin’ ma kin.
We took a long rest. Those still unconscious were tended tae by a new companion:
Rudy “Mutt” Mudpot—a halfling cleric, sailor, and pirate.
His hands were steady. His heart, kind.
But Rudy’s tale began earlier.
He’d woken mid-morn, gifted a deep-sea crab by Ilara.
He built his underground smoker, wrapped the crab in leaves, and buried it in coals.
Just as he began his spell practice, Ilara’s voice came:
“The time has come. Prepare yourself! Your companion is in need of urgent rescue.”
He stepped intae the sea—and was flung through water and light, landin’ awkwardly at a reservoir’s edge.
Ilara’s voice again:
“Head to the south-west. Hurry!”
He ran. Found Kaz, half-dead.
Two gnolls fed on the fallen—one chewin’ a dwarf’s foot, the other takin’ flesh frae a lizard’s tail.
Rudy cast a lion’s roar to frighten them.
He drew the big one away, healed Kaz, and helped rally the survivors.
Cat and Glynn were gone.
Rudy pickpocketed the cat (he’d nae need it), introduced himself, and helped build shelter.
He harvested gnoll ears for the bounty.
In the morn, we wrapped the dead.
Ryn—the dwarf wi’ one foot—crafted a wooden replacement and stored the bodies in his magic bag.
We travelled north tae Prospect.
Fought off wolves, claimed the bounty, and toasted the fallen at the Headless Kobold.
There, we met Dart—a strange soul:
- Cat ear, horn, wing, and a crab pincer arm
- His magic changed dependin’ on what he ate
Then the doors burst open.
Elara, ma wife, stormed in—anger, fear, sorrow.
Her dwarven tongue was thick, but the message clear:
Thalia and Thrain were missin’—sent tae gather pelts in bandit lands.
Tomorrow would bring a reckoning.
“I woke tae silence and blood. Rudy rose frae the sea. And Elara brought the storm. The Chronicle holds it all.”
