Crawworth Expedition – Day 7
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Title: Crawworth Expedition - Day 7
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Still reeling from the loss of Michelle, we made our way over a great gorge, and into a barren region of desolation. Only the water to the west broke the dreary spell of emptiness around us.
After a while, Enas started talking again, something we hadn't done since Xarot's heroics just days ago. I found myself fascinated as he talked at great length about the possible origins of the people in this strange land.
I was just about to interject my own opinions of the land when we came across something that made CrawWorth stop in his tracks. He looked at us each in turn, his eyes wide with surprise and then pointed to the ground in front of his feet. There lay a sword. But not any sword. Xarot's sword. He recognized it by the handle, and gently plucked it up from the dust that lay all around it.
Overwhelmed with pain at the memory I turned and discovered that we were not alone...
Coming up behind us was a lone figure, huge, looming, and watching us intently. I've seen an ogre before, and even a troll, and this beast matched them in size easily. When it was only twenty feet away we could make out it's most odd feature.
The beast had but one eye! He carried a small tree in his hand, the leaves ripped off of one end, and as we realized it was a weapon he raised it above his head and rushed forward.
Enas was prepared this time, having had time to grab his spellbook and prepare his reagents as we watched the creature approach us. His incomprehensible words of power seemed to fill the air around me as a bolt of lighting spiraled down from above and struck the one-eyed beast, causing him to shriek in pain and surprise. His weapon was tossed to the side as he fell face first into the hard ground.
Smoke rose from his body where the lightning had struck.
CrawWorth cautiously approached it and prodded it with his sword. It groaned, but made no move to get up. We hurried on along the path, watching over our backs as we went....
A few hours later found us crossing the waters to the mountainous regions on a fisherman's boat. Snow fell freely from the sky, and as the cold wind rushed over us, we stood silently together and mourned for Xarot.
Somehow that began to lift our spirits and we traveled on through the snowy lands for some time before we realized that we'd walked in a complete circle. Without Michelle to guide us we had no idea where we were or where we were headed. Upon seeing us return, the fisherman, a friendly old man named Clarwik, offered us return passage on his ship. We readily agreed.