10th of Sarenith (the 11th year of the rule of Noleski Surtova)
A week of tramping through the Narlmarches and we might have gained some credit with the local Fey, whether this goodwill will be enough to prevent another run-in between the dark fey and the local humans we will see. A vile Scythe Tree was eliminated from the deeper parts of the forest freeing a Dryad to work her gentler influence on the surrounding woodlands. The thing was a gigantic engine of death and destruction. My magics did little but enrage the beast and in the end a powerful strike to the bole of the tree-thing by the Baron Van Allegmund and a well placed arrow from the Lady Vaszilla ended the discussion. Each time we defeat one of these monstrosities I feel sadness mixed with relief. As we tame these lands such dark things will not come again becoming evermore confined within the dark places like the Old Margreve and freeing the common folk from fear. Unfortunately, the light Fey are tied to them too tightly and one day all that will be left of the Fey will be the changelings like the Priestess Zeleny. Beings that belong to neither the First world or to this one.
13th of Sarenith (the 11th year of the rule of Noleski Surtova)
We almost lost him. The hag drained him almost dry and only powerful good fortune saved him. After so much time and training I almost stood by and watched as a fowl hag drank Baron Van Allegmund’s life blood after entrancing us all. If Lady Vaszilla and her hunting cat had not joined battle with the hag I would probably be looking south right now free to explore the wide world with no duty binding me to this place. The loss of a great man would have tainted those adventures and the journey would have been ashes on the tongue. More than ever we need to cement the line of succession by marrying the Baron to a lady of suitable stature and producing an heir to hold this place against the foes of the empire.
The citadel we found deep in the Southern Narlmarches was an old Elven keep. A simple curtain wall and four towers encircling a main central tower. A damned twisted fey of the elven-kindreds bedeviled us from the moment we tried entering the main courtyard. After driving him off we then encountered another twisted mockery of the Light Fey. It was easily dispatched by our combined might although I have to admit I would not want to meet one of them without the cold steel of my comrades around me. I have a feeling looking back that the second being attacked in desperation forced into action precipitously by the destruction of the Assassin Vines lining the inside of the tower. Yet another foul corruption of the natural order whose creator should be both damned and congratulated.
Things began to go awry at this point with the strange mists filling the central tower befuddling us all. Clearly a set up for the entrancement the Hag was about to weave. With our wills weakened we all stared slack jawed as the Hag drew forth the good Baron and began her sick feast. In my mind I see it as plain as day. The beautiful dancing woman; the graceful welcome to the raised garden. Then the foul monstrosity whose fangs sank deep into my lords neck; appearing as the enchantment failed.
We are almost home and Sir Karl is finally able to stand unassisted. I am troubled again by thoughts of the mist shrouded Isle and the Fey woman. What would be woken by a journey there and is the risk worth the potential gain? If we barely survived this most recent encounter what hope do we have against a being that could destroy an entire city and then obscure for centuries a second. And so I wait worried that my inaction is merely maintaining the base of a malignant foe, enabling them to plot and strike against us at will.