Robert B | Ogis | Half-Orc | 9, Cleric 9
Martijn | Lashi | Kor | 7, Monk 7
Nartzim | Ou-kan | Goliath | 6, Sorcerer 6
Carric | Leofyr | Half-Elf | 5, Wizard 3, Paladin 2
Rhiwaow | Cally | Halfling | 5, Rogue 3, Warlock 2
Olli | Tor | Half-Elf | 5, Ranger 5

DM: ReddestMage

Leader: Lashi
Scout: Cally
Trailblazer: Tor

Mission: Assist Yarsby in investigating a farm

Goliath Sorcerer
Supreme adventurer
Head Smasher




Dwarven investigator
Reads our logs
Probably a fan





Bad at its job
Pukes crows
Nasty claws






The good boys
Swarms your feet
Likes to climb the living
Nasty in numbers



Big good boy
Didn’t really see this
Only heard descriptions




Multi bony Boy
More arms, more pain
You should probably keep a distance





The Reaper
You should absolutely keep your distance
Don’t get close
It will kill you

Due to new circumstances my logs have been harder to write, but I know how my fans are, so I can’t keep you waiting too long. If you however are getting too impatient just hit me up at the tavern. If you get the first round I’ll happily tell you about my amazing feats in person. Just look for the steeliest pecs in the room.

My tales of this adventure will be a bit shorter than expected when we set out, as I did not experience the last parts due to a quite terminal condition, of which I appearently couldn’t get enough.

We set out for Port Mirandia, where the dwarf investigator asked us to look into a not quite local farm. His own people never returned from their visit, so we, the cavalry, had to go in.

We reached without much trouble, skipping on some quite tasty looking fruits, and approached carefully. The fields and roof were covered in crows. The scarecrows clearly had no effect, even though they were quite well made, good craftmanship.

I’ve actually seen something similar before and I apologize for never putting it in writing, but living scarecrows were not a first for me, so when they sprang to life I was ready.

I wasn’t ready for all the small golems to swarm me though. Or for the scarecrows to spit out a murder of crows to attack us. It was a hard fight, but it didn’t help that my armor kept falling off and my shoulder pop out of its socket. I missed part of it, but by the end no crows or golems drew near our group.

At this point I dearly needed a rest, so we headed into the building to catch our breath. We were met by trails of blood leading to the basement. As we still needed the rest we barred the basement at sat down. Personally I tried to fix a hat and get my carapace fixed. Neither got finished, as some half-human golem abomination broke through our barrier. We knocked it back down the basement where Ogis followed.

Soon we were all down there and the fighting spilled in deeper. I charged in to help keep whatever it was back, but wounds piled up and this is where my tale ends.

The next memory I have is being brought back to life in White Moon Cove. Yarsby had been informed. Appearently there were a magical circle in the basement, which they destroyed.

I’ll advice you to read a log by my friend Tor. It should be a field report called “Farmhouse of Horrors”.


– Ou-Kan