Diamova

Two Sides To Every Story

Session 27 - December 798

I can’t concentrate on the story as I should. After all there were some major revelations that affected me on a personal level. After discovering that an old…acquaintance actually possessed the brains to fathom my language, I was spared further awkward fumbling by the appearance of two figures leading a train of mules. They seemed benign enough, but quite insistent. For reasons poorly explained, neither the smallish fellow or that gracefully aging barmaid, wanted us around to bear witness to the gnome’s carpentry. As if any of us cared—the sawdust sniffer wasn’t about after all.

Well I don’t quite know how it happened—that’s a good thing—but faster than a cat chasing mice the seemingly harmless midget popped open a few sacks from his beast’s back and started to chant madly. I hope to all that I can imagine—yes, even that fairy tale, Bairnuk—that I’ll one day manage to forget that demonic ditty: “Rise me skellys! Rise!”

Maybe ten years after I’m weevil bread, if the old bat doesn’t pull my bones from the earth and make them dance like a puppet for his amusement. Normally that might not be so bad, but he’d probably say those words again. “Rise me skellys! Rise!”

As a matter of course, this led to an elaborate and furtive transaction in which each attempted to give the other a taste of claw, blade, lightning, or bone in exchange for blood and ash. Fools.

Well it’s like I said, I was a little shaken up, so I didn’t take good mental notes. The dog careened about like a brawler, hurling bonemen hither and thither or rampaged like a bull, ramming into things. An old friend stuck rigidly to his penchant of flicking that little stick about willy nilly. DOESN’T HE KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT THING IS!?!? The biggest surprise was the new girl though. She flitted about, somehow managing to look like a champion dancer in the ballroom rather than a sprite in the heat of battle, but where she glanced wounds were healed and I think she even taught Draz a thing or two about storms. Well, maybe that last isn’t as impressive as it could be.

It was close a few times, I finally had to intervene personally, so they could manage to squeak by until the foes retreated and our other companions bumbled out of the portal the old dog held open. What he couldn’t have helped and then re-opened the thing after? Perhaps not. I suppose I don’t actually know too much about portals to other dimensions. Though if I do say so myself it is one of the few things I don’t understand, other than how half our party stills draws breath and how Aiden’s mind works. Not subjects I’d like to study further either.

So there you have it. That’s what happened…and…now what?

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