PRIOR TO THE SWIFT EXIT
These beardless and unbranded dwarves are now aware of my short temper; the half-elf’s brother was no where to be found in the logging camp. Elanor The Huntress was rescued, a huntress that forgets natural law: the weak and the sick are left behind.
Our party slew “Deb”, the dwarven druid and the cause of the disturbances in the forest. He pleaded that a hex caused him to commit his vile necromantic acts lest he be killed by this self-crowned “Fjordlord”. Deb informed us that prisoners from the logging camp were shuttled in to a nearby cave system. Ultimately, the druid betrayed his oaths to protect the natural world; our drow granted Deb a quicker, cleaner death.
Upon entering the cave network, we encountered a long pit descending in to the darkness. I and Marshall lowered ourselves in to the pit to scout around, but saw nothing but water. The drow assisted, and explained that land was visible on the far side of the pool.
The group continues to argue about how to approach the pit, even with Marshall’s instruction.
I am at the end of my rope with these blathering fools.