Ferryman's Log, Entry #1
And what a contrast to the terrible happenings of last night. To think that so much blood was shed over an encounter with a common band of marsh bandits. Although Uriah Styx and I have been used to guarding against such lowlifes, I at least had never been attacked by marsh bandits—perhaps because we almost always ferry people by day. In any case, it may be helpful to record as faithfully as I can my impressions of last night. Uncle John always said that careful record-keeping is the key to problem-solving. I’m not sure how effective his philosophy will be under the circumstances, but given the mysteries deepening around us, we’ll need all the help we can get!
We were making good progress toward our destination—the worksite of the Tri-Point Mining Company—and were on the third watch of the night (Travis and myself) when things started to go awry. I noticed two dark figures crouching in the bushes, and tried to communicate my observation to Travis as quietly as possible. But he must have misunderstood my intent to warn him, because he started waving to the two figures, whose intentions were anything but benign. One of them had a crossbow: he discharged an arrow, which grazed Travis, injuring but not immobilizing him.
I instinctively plunged into the river for refuge: to be honest, I was terrified. I knew how desperate these bandits could be—how mind-numbing poverty and routine violence had completely eroded their sense of value for human life. And as much as my friends urge me to believe otherwise, I am more an innkeeper and a guide than a fighter. As I dove in, I yelled loudly to my sleeping friends, “We’re under attack!!” deliberately making a loud splash to wake them up.
Emboldened by my relative safety underwater, I surfaced and tried to cast a frostbite spell on the attacker with a crossbow; but I was too excited, and couldn’t focus properly, succeeding only in encasing one of his limbs in frost. Meanwhile, the others were stirring. As bold as ever, Val had plunged into the river to confront our assailants head-on; meanwhile, two other bandits had appeared on the other side of the river and were showering the boat with other projectiles, which fortunately flew wide of their intended targets.
Staying submerged, I headed in Val’s direction in case I could provide any assistance. But meanwhile, things were going badly on board the boat. The ever-good-natured Travis was trying to enter into dialogue with our attackers—and although he had succeeded in extracting some potentially useful information from one of them—his position on the boat left him vulnerable to further arrows, and one pierced the wooden man fatally through what I guess is his equivalent of a heart. I was not on board the boat to witness his awful predicament, but I can only imagine the horror of Tilia, Wynlynn, and Pantaghion. Pantaghion jumped into the water and Tilia tried to use an entrapment spell to ensnare two of our attackers—but they managed to evade the water weeds that she conjured up to catch them.
Wynlynn must have been extremely shaken; though an amazingly sharp shooter, she aims to kill only very deliberately—this time, though, she sent an arrow straight through the jugular of one of the bandits instead of incapacitating him as she usually would. The dead man’s companion immediately turned tail and fled.
On the other bank, Val had tackled Travis’s would-be killer and overpowered him. I’m still in awe of her physical bravery—not to mention her lack of squeamishness, because I could smell the unwashed stench of the wretch even from where I was in the water. I cast the frostbite cantrip again, with better results this time. The other bandit gasped pitifully and started to shiver as crystals of ice rapidly formed all over him.
We had won. But at what cost? Fortunately, Pantaghion was able to use his healing powers to bring Travis back from the brink (of death? Can a man made of wood die? Isn’t there always a possibility of repair?); the bandit Wynlynn shot wasn’t as lucky. We gave the survivors some money and Val put the fear of Corellon Larethian into them, commanding them not to harm any other travelers (or else!)
Thankfully, we were able to rest from the troubles of the night and have virtually reached our destination this morning. Though the dangers ahead of us seem considerable. After interrogating the surviving bandits, we were able to ascertain that there is some truth to Bradley Leggedy’s tale of monstrous ants (I forget what Tilia called them) terrorizing the mining community.
But I must end here. We have reached the dock—I must secure Styx’s boat and help the others disembark safely.