Well, it’s been a little while since I updated my diary. Guess I got a bit caught up in whatever it was I fill my time with between adventures…you know, girls, drugs, booze, liberation of fancy goods from undeserving owners. That sort of thing. All blurs together after a spell. Not a magic spell, that is, but a spell of time. Oh, you know what I’m saying, right?
Anyway, where were we?
Oh yeah, those Signers and Athars are still rattling their bone boxes about that old church, but nothing got sorted with it yet. The hardheads have moved in and are manning it now, following some scuffles atween those other berks. Don’t see what’s so fancy about it really…okay, some cutters vanished in it, but what’s new about that in the city of doors, eh? Beats me.
So, we got a summons back to treetown where that rich sort Mov, who kind of runs the place, tells us those spooks that play with your mind are back. Sure enough, they try to pen us all soon as we show up to talk jink (this Mov sort pays well I’ll say that for him). We get good chant from the squirrelyfolk, mind you, and manage to hide where the spooks are holed up, so get to eavesdrop on this mephit thing that says he comes from ‘The Master’ somewhere in the Abyss. The spooks scrag him quick after that, and while they’re busy tearing him limb from limb we get busy doing the same to them. Some very neat placement of a fireball from Brazen Polly softens them up and the rest of us drop on them and make surprisingly short work of it all. Good feeling, that, penning some real evil in the dead book.
We are on our way to get the rest of our reward from Mov…the Ratatosk reckon the evil has gone from the tree, and that’s good enough for me. Mark you, I can’t shake the feeling this Mov will want us to trace those spooky bashers back to their hole, at the church we came across on the way to him (oh, I plum forgot that bit!) and find out who this master is. Long as he’s paying as handsome as he seems to be, I’ll be in on that!