Today was a relaxing day of travel. We commandeered the canoes of yesterday's goblins and followed a branch of the river east, in the hopes it would take us directly to the lake. And indeed it did.
The lake is beautiful. Calm, still waters and a fresh breeze. Fish and birds are plentiful and fascinating to watch. And at night, the moon and stars are reflected in a stunning display. We all shared a moment of mutual wonderment at the beauty of this unexplored frontier, and for the first time I felt a bond and common nature with my companions.
In jest we named it Lake Leanor. Though I am growing to like the name.
Last night I learned much about Dunder. Indeed more than I ever wished to know.
He told me of his past, and the spirit that lives deep within him. The spirit of a malign and vicious warrior fights for possession of his body and as we discovered last night occasionally succeeds, driving Dunder to preform acts unfitting of his character.
Out of the respect I have for the stoic, wise and powerful dwarf Dunder who has kindly accompanied me I will not speak of the nature of the act... but I hold no love for this spirit. I hope we might one day find a way to free Dunder of this curse.
I have little time to think on the matter, as we are ambushed by goblin brigands in the night. They are dispatched, but Dunder is incapacitated and must stay behind to recuperate. However we are not without fortune! Among the goblin's possessions is found a medallion: forged of silver, with a depiction of a tree decorating the face. It hums with magic.
As if on cue, who should we find lazily floating down river but Ron Wilbur; proprietor of the items shop at Gren's Slide. He is an eccentric but intelligent man with a kind heart and a silver tongue. With his help we are able to identify the magic behind the medallion. It seems to guide us southeast, though towards what we do not know. Ron decides to join us: the promise of rare and exotic stock for his shop driving him further into the Landscape.
We allow the medallion to guide us deeper into the forest.
We encounter wild elves, whose territorial instincts drive them to attack. They are completely unlike the elves I have met back in Farwall. Peaceful and passionate about art, magic and life, my father would trade with them for silks and their elegant craftsmanship. Their Landscape dwelling cousins are feral and naturalistic.
The battle is long and difficult, but we fight well. Ron demonstrates a sampling of his vast suite of spells, inducing magic sleep and thunderous shockwaves. Mac's blades strike true as always. And, in a pleasant change of pace, my spells find purchase and I wound one of our attackers. For one exhilarating moment I lose myself in the swirling melee and we overrun our opponents.
After the battle we recover another silver medallion, which leads us to the conclusion they must guide us towards some Elven landmark or important site, piquing my interest. Additionally, a journal, which I have taken to reading. Little is known about the people who live in the Landscape, and this look into one's daily life is fascinating.
Finally, we settle down for the night. We spotted elven camp sites off in the distance, but misdirected them with a clever ruse: Ron summons a magical creature we charge to deliver a false message from one of the elves we defeated earlier, driving their attention away from us.
The magic of the silver medallions burns hotter than ever before, we must be close. We should reach our destination tomorrow.