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Text Version (The note at the end is in halfling, denoted by square brackets here and in Google-translated Dutch in the image):
Day 19 — Gremlins in the Works
I’ve never been so tired of fey; they’re fun, at first, a nice break from City Folk thoughts and actions and lifestyles. But after almost three weeks in the Wild, and an especially long day, I am about sick of them. Nearing the end of another torturous day’s march up increasingly larger hills, a family of Grigs appeared to request our aid in freeing their captive daughters from a group of Gremlins that had attacked them. Now near enough the entire party feels compelled to help them, whether its a druidic duty, a paladin’s prerogative, a fey’s faith, or circumstantial curiosity, nearly everyone in the group was instantly invested in helping out these tiny strangers. Not to sound overly gruff, as I was quickly drawn into their story as well, but in retrospect, one thinks that we are supposedly on a very important quest to be stopping for every trifle and trouble of any stranger with a sob story. I trust Oak not to fall for fey tricks and to not be overly emotional — or even adequately emotional at times — but it still seems as though we take an awful lot of detours for a group working for some sort of ‘over-deity’. While their plight was legitimate, the gremlin hole we had to deal with was less than pleasant. Apparently gremlins are not the cleanest of fey, especially when they make their home in a cave such as this one. The gremlins, however, were not alone, accompanied
by some jinkins and, much to our frustration, pugwampis. Most think of fey as trickster spirits and fair folk of the forest, but this group was neither fair nor satisfied with simply tricks. Concerned as the group was over the hostages, we made no efforts to subtlety or caution as we barged into their nest. To make a long and frustrating battle short (Pugwampi may be the MOST annoying fey on this plane) we managed to kill or capture all the evil fey and rescue the grigs. From there the day managed to improve some, our good deeds paid off as we met with a local grig witch, allowing us some vital information on the area. It seems the taint has only spread here recently, which hopefully means there will be less of it to remove, Yondalla willing, there will. My hands are as sore as my feet today, so I can not pen much more, should I never see a pugwampi again, it will be too soon.
[Oak notes: Oak seems to become more sane, for lack of a better term, as we get further into the Wild. Or maybe I just become accustom to his insanity.]
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