Death stalks this group; hiding in the shadows until, grasping, he takes his due. And yet in the midst of this death, I still see hope for times of peace.
With stern resolve we travelled south to the Lizardfolk village; keeping watch, we spotted a returning party of theirs, and moved to intercept. This party turned out to include Sketmit, leader of the faction of the village who did not share chieftain Veskit’s warlike ambitions. Although their kind are alien to us, I saw in him a kind of nobility which I understood, the desire that his people come to no harm. Is this not the end we hope to achieve through our service?
That evening, with the aid of Sketmit and his braves, we were able to defeat Veskit while minimising the harm to the rest of the village. We did the right thing, and I hope that we have found ourselves an ally among the lizardfolk—or, at least, lost a potential foe. I was mauled by a caiman pet of Veskit’s, and in my rage at the pain, destroyed his altar after we had slain him. Although I know this destruction was, also, the right thing to do, I regret my impetuousness, and hope that my new companions do not look ill upon me for it.
These next lines are hard for me to write.
The southern end of the Barony had been plagued by rumours of trolls, and so, as Sketmit was able to direct us to their lair, the others were keen to solve this problem. It was here in this lair that Variel fell. I feel I bear some burden of responsibility for his death. As one of the trolls bore down upon him I tried my utmost to shield him, but I was unable to defeat the troll in time, and was there beside him when he fell.
The rest of us are bloodied but unbroken. We will fight on. Death takes his due, and we will take hours. For the Barony will be safer when the trolls have been defeated, and Variel’s passing will not have been in vain.