Hoi journal. It feels like a great deal of time has passed since our last meeting. When last I left, we had departed a small plantation on our way to the famed city. Journal, so much has happened, I shall opt for brevity.
1. On route, our driver told us of two routes, a safe one and a not so safe one. I honestly don't remember which road we traveled, for it made none the difference. We were beset by wolfmen (who were made of the same mushroom goo as everything else in this land). One horse was slain but all foes were felled. Apparently there was some temple in the woods filled with werewolves.
2. Upon arrival in the city, we headed for the docks where we met up with the infamous Scarlet Brotherhood. They paid us some money and our driver headed for a nearby inn. We set about on some errands around town.
3. My errands included grabbing some more oil, ball bearings and some fresh info. After having my hand sliced open, I got some leads that pointed me to the local thieves guild.
4. Several of my companions met an assortment of colorful characters and were also steered towards the thieves guild. So...off we went to the thieves guild.
5. Everyone was engaged in some obstacle course running and we were all inducted into the guild. Adamantine lock picks all around! I picked up a nice, friendly new cloak, and we were directed to check out a mushroom smoking room.
6. Our distraction expert going in first, the party and I scouted the area discovering a very evil book and one of those trick party candles that gnomes like to use. We might have burned the building to the ground...
7. We had Thomas, wizard playboy extraordinaire and new found friend, analyze the book. It was indeed, very evil. Some terrible devil shared a connection with the Scarlet Brotherhood.
8. Seeking the help of some priests, the group ended up being pointed towards another devil's followers and were advised to support the lesser evils. Much like voting for politicians.
9. After some civil unrest, we escaped into the catacombs and emerged near the warehouse that we had first came to when we got here. Naturally, we found more demons, mushrooms and other assorted bad stuff there. Also, the angry mob seemed to have found us.
10. Luckily the inn our wayward driver was also an entrance to the guild, so we made a hasty exit and went back to the guild.
11. Surprise! Those priests weren't the good kind and we ended up killing more mushroom goo turned people. Surrounded by angry mobs, the chief offered to take us out on his yacht.
12. So we raised the mizzen mast and started to sail out back towards Kaoland. Towards the temple that is most probably filled with traps, danger and more evil mushroom magic stuff. What could go wrong?
Hopefully that brief summary will suffice, for the actual events would take several pages and more candlelight than I have currently have time to spare.
In any case, I'm sure everything will work out just fine.

Mushrooms and all that jazz

Hoi hoi hoi journal. It's been so long since I've last collected my thoughts within these pages. After defeating a giant clockwork dragon, my stalwart companions and I proceded back down through the town. Strangely enough, I turn the corner and I ran into a group of guards. My teammates nowhere to be found and I'm in a major pickle. I'd try and surprise you journal, but you know how these things turn out by now. So longer story made short, I've ended up in a ship brig bound for some place called Kaoland.

After being woken up from being swayed to sleep, I've found myself surrounded by a group of sailors, a captain who carried himself like the ocean breeze which filled the sails on the deck above, and what appears to be a group of adventurers looking for opportunities abroad. A fairly short discussion broke out and after having my moral fiber questioned several times, several of these stout folk pledged to get me freed by the end of the journey. Sometime later I was approached by a giant scaled being who was interested in using my meager skills to procure some liquid comfort. If it would help a fellow traveler, why not? What could possibly go wrong?

Success! It was tricky journal, no doubt, but I managed to get some of that concoction that my benefactor desired. A little pry bar action here, a quick clamber up there and into the captain's chambers I went. Searching in the chest I stumbled upon some gold...no luck. Then I checked the captains wardrobe. A pile of rusty swords and some bizarre combination of sheaths intermixed with some clothes lay before me. Undeterred, I checked under the bed. Ah ha! Bottle after bottle lined up in ritualistic style. I chose a happy medium so as to not arouse too much suspicion about my activities and presented the bottle to the dragonborn sorcerer. Promptly tying myself back upside down, I waited for the travelers to work towards my freedom.

Well, journal, freedom I have been granted. Did it involve some trickery? Certainly. At least nobody was hurt (except the captain's pride but that's for a different journal entry!) We've made land fall and ended up in a non fishing village right off the ocean. I know, journal, I know...strangeness seems to follow wherever I travel. An economy not of fish and maritime trade, but of mushrooms! Now word on the street is that these mushrooms can cure a great many ills and that some farmer turned self styled lord named Diedrich is running the show. Setting out to a nearby inn, my new found friends and I have become surrounded by mystery. Children vanishing, some returning, though touched by some new personality. Nobody gives us a clear indication what is happening, but nobody seems concerned about it either. Even checking out some of the locals seemed to make the waters murkier.
A plan was hatched by our dragonborn (no pun intended) to get some tail (pun intended?) while the rest of the group would wait outside away from our queer surroundings. It didn't seem quite safe for Rahmi to be left completely alone in this backwater, so I offered to chaperone. Long story made short, after an eventful night for one of us, we made our way back to the camp the others had made.

Now I'm not a scribe, but it seems the creatures who attacked us last night should certainly be included in some bestiary. Goo? Humanoid? Mushrooms? I couldn't tell but the resembelance to Rahmi and the quick witted Callan, along with their hostile posturing, told me that we were about to enter into a scuffle. We made short work of them, but what happened next was most astounding. Mushrooms sprouted from the decaying shambles that lay before us. Not just some common whitecap either, but strangely similar red and white ones that everyone and their grandmother have been pushing on us ever since we've hit this shore. Time to see if we can't get some more information on this. Let's go check out this "lord" Diedrich.

Journal, you know my mind and temperament. Generally, when I travel with a group and we make a plan of action, I generally assume that we are going to work towards that action. I could be very mistaken, but I had thought the group wished to check out the Diedrich compound under the cover of night. We approached the compound shortly after dawn and began examining the grounds. Clearly this operation is as new and lucrative as what I've heard through the rumor mills. Sturdy construction and walls in sharp contrast to the mud huts of neighboring farms. While the descendants of dragons went to question the man in charge about the rumors of gainful employment, Callan and I decided to talk to some workers to see if we couldn't shake loose some spores of information. We found a young human named Fred who apparently just finished his shift. After a few questions, I could see this wasn't going to yield much fruit, so I decided to see if I could catch any glimpses of what was happening in the barn. It didn't appear much was going on at the moment, so I resigned myself to having to wait until dark to carry out our plan. After a brief leg up from Rahmi, I made myself as inconspicuous and comfortable on the roof as I could and began my observations.

Sometimes I wonder if Desna is just trying to make life interesting for me without being aware of a more subtle of accomplishing that. Just as I was starting to get comfortable, I heard several loud shouts of "Let's burn this (#$!ing compound to the ground!", followed by two gnomish voices heckling the unusual Guard of this compound. Curious, I crawled down to the side of the roof and peeked out. Desna preserve me, but I recognized that gnome! Still multitasking a bit too much for his own good, but healthy as ever! I decided to confirm my findings and joined him on the ground. Indeed it is my former traveling companion. After a brief reunion, we decided to rejoin the group. After a brief discussion over the merits of torching all mushroom related buildings in the area versus covertly trying to gain more information about the operation, we decided to use the cover of night to sneak into the villa and see what we could find out (which sounds strangely what we had decided in the first place >_> )

The other gnome apparently was a scout of some skill, so we decided to split the work and investigate the manor as fast as we could. Some sort of social gathering was happening on the first floor which helped cover our approach into the interior of building. In the second floor office, we found some suspicious ties to this growing operation and the Scarlet Brotherhood. Having found what we came for, we left the poor souls to the mercy of "Lord" Diedrich and his mushroom laced dessert offerings.

After a hasty retreat, we returned to our camp and decided to return in the morning to see if we could get hired on to travel with a convoy to Greyhawk. I volunteered to take fourth watch and crawled onto my bedroll for some much needed sleep. I was woken for my watch and proceeded out into the brisk air. Strangely, my companions seemed to be sweating and thrashing in their sleep. Ragi asked to be woken if anything strange occured, so I ran to wake him as quick as my legs could carry me. Mission accomplished! I ran to wake our stolid dwarven Bae and experienced a feeling of having experienced this before.

Mushroom sprouting mirror monsters seem to monitor our movements. After another hectic battle, more mushroom goo was our only clue. At a loss of what to do, we decided that our best course lay in going to Greyhawk and seeing where these caravans would take us.

We arrived a little worse for wear and what followed I'm still trying to map out. It all happened so fast, journal! To summarize, Cal kicked in a door, threatened the boss and somehow secured the position of escorting the mushroom trucks (regional dialect for cart). After getting told to meet up with the smith, we exited and our favorite gnome wizard turned himself into "Lord" D and ordered Guard to run into the woods. Poor Guard. After finally making our way to the carts, I clambered up and waited. Rahmi walked off in the direction of the barn where we saw Fred yesterday, followed closely by gnome El. Some short time later, screams and smell (noxious fumes?) wafted towards me. Other group members went off to see what was going on and as they entered the barn...more shouting filled the air. Eventually we were rejoin and proceeded to head towards Greyhawk. I don't know about you journal, but I'm sure this time...everything is going to work out just fine.

Hoi Journal! It has been some time since I have collected my thoughts and committed them to parchment. Luckily we have had a short break in the events recent where I can write in relative safety.

So the camp turned out to be a bust. Upon arriving, things looked less optimistic than I anticipated, what with bodies strewn about in haphazard fashion. As we searched the camp, we were attacked by yet another "damsel in distress" and her friends. This time there was much chanting (with some wailing and shrieking mixed in) and an attempt in bringing a large stone figure to life. We seem to be beset on all sides by living stone as of late. In any case, the party made short work of the lady of ill intentions and began to search the camp. Well, through a stroke of luck (Desna be praised), we happened to find our "minder" Ellard stumbled out of a tent in a state of dismay and shock.

Unfortunately with the camp's only living occupants being us, our fashionable sigils have remained upon us. Not to fear, Journal, for Ellard has pointed us to a scholarly group that can assist us. To the city we go! I'm sure this will all work out just fine.

Journal, I now scribble on you via an invisible hand. The city appears to be under some sort of curfew and we arrived to the city late. Naturally, we attempted to find lodgings but we were not able to secure any. Now normally, I would just sleep wherever seemed safest (on a roof, in a barrel, etc etc.), but I have my companions to consider now. Luckily my stalwart associates were still in possession of the magical dirt and we now sleep in a cozy alley without the pesky worry of being mauled by eldritch creature of the night. Hence my invisible scrawls! Tomorrow we shall head for the temple and see about removing these death marks.

Not much time to record this, as I am about to plunge into a forest to scout for my party. The scholars seemed eager to help us and also offered to translate the massive tome that Ellard had been carrying. All they wanted in return was us to go flower picking in a field. What could be simpler?

So our afternoon picnic turned out to be more headache for me than I initially thought it would be. I found the clearing with little issue, but I like to think I know a trap when I see one. Well, Journal, this most certainly gave off that trap feeling. So we discussed our next move. My brilliant cousin came up with a brilliant idea. He summoned a most handsome bird and commanded it to go pick the flower and bring it back here. It successfully snagged the flower but awoke a vine beast in the process. Rashamon (who I was unaware was such an animal lover) charged in to save the helpless creature. This seemed to have a opposite of soothing effect on the vines and I felt compelled to try and provide a distraction so Rashamon could beat a hasty retreat. It worked for a while, but I become drowsy shortly thereafter. I awoke as I smashed into a tree limb and fell to the ground. Flower secured! Sure, I had a big knot on my skull and was walking with a limp for a while but our reward is close at hand. I'm sure this will all work out fine.

Journal, we seem to be fated to find bodies strewn about. Upon our triumphant return to the scholars, we saw that our friendly benefactors had been rend into a neatly arranged pile. Naturally, this was a cause of dismay but as luck would have it Ellard again stumbled out of one of the rooms, semi translated tome in hand. So now as we pondered what to do it became apparent that the city guard was en route. Our friendly minder was quite distraught and bolted from the building. Naturally, some of my companions were concerned for his mental, physical and spiritual well being, which caused them to give chase immediately. Greyjaw, Roku, Sonny and myself gave chase shortly thereafter. I guess we underestimated how close the city guard was because we found all exits blocked by them and them calling for our surrender for execution.

Now I don't know about you Journal, but I try to avoid being executed. Especially when I'm already marked for a slow agonizing magical execution. So after a light scuffle (no guards were harmed), we retreated back into the temple and locked the door. Instead of the head on approach, we decided that escaping was probably a more graceful solution to our problems. Upon inspection of the area, we saw a walled garden in the back of the temple that seemed clear of any pesky guards. I clambered over the wall and awaited my fellows in the alley. It seemed to be taking quite a while for my friends to climb over a wall that at their head height but I reminded myself that crocodiles aren't made for climbing.

Now word on the street was that our companions had been seen leaving the city out one of the gates and we were determined to follow them. Unfortunately, the nature of their exit had caused a great deal of commotion and the guard were alert and patrolling the area. Sonny then raised his friend, Edgar the skeleton. I don't know much about skeletons, Edgar seemed a purpose and drive that is usually missing from magically animated piles of bones. Sonny promptly dowsed Edgar in oil and set him on fire. A distraction we needed and a distraction Edgar provided. As he ran around the edge of the square by the gate, flailing and flaming, guards were naturally curious as the cacophony of screams increased in volume. Were a few houses caught on fire? Sure. Was there a chance that the entire city could burn to the ground? Maybe, but I had faith in Edgar. I'm sure Edgar knew what he was doing. Through some magical means involving flying, we managed to get over the wall and began pursuit of our wayward party members. Away we go, Journal!

I have seen things people wouldn't believe, Journal. I just recently saw a flaming skeleton smashing into wooden beams outside of Tannhauser gate. Now I caught in some sort of mystical forest that branches in two directions. My companions noticed a pattern emerging and guided us to a clearing. Now this clearing seemed much more cozy and comfortable than some of the other recent clearings, so we went in and began exploring. For some strange reason, people seem dead set on accusing me of things that I had nothing to do with. This googled lady, emerged from some shadows and accused me of stealing the mask from the early tree dungeon temple. Why would I do that? It would be counter productive to the whole endeavor of removing our glowing death sigils. Anyways, she brought some friends and they proceeded to pummel us. Sonny, summoned another one of his friends, Simon the skeleton. Unfortunately for Simon, he quickly became "Simon the shattered skeleton", if you take my meaning. Well, we managed to repel our attackers and made amends with the google lady. Apparently, it's our fault that some doom has been unleashed on the land and we have been recruited to stop it. Typical. Oh well, I'm sure this will all work out in the end.

Hoi. Just writing to say that I'm back in prison (again). Just when I thought I was done being hung upside from chains (I guess jailers find halfings hung upside down to be amusing), here I am again. It started innocently enough. After I had escaped those blasted slavers by luring them into the jaws of a waiting dire crocodile, I thought it prudent to praise Desna with a good stiff drink. As luck would have it, just as I was settling down to enjoy my libation a half orc sat down to me. Normally I try to give the big guys a wide berth, but this one seemed oddly familiar. Then it struck me! This was my 3rd cousin twice removed! I hadn't seen him since our last gathering 10 years prior. As we marveled at what chance had brought us together, we ordered a couple of more rounds to mark the occasion. One drink turned to too many, and we decided on a plan to establish our own kingdom! No more would outsiders be turned away! A place where halflings, half orcs and whoever else wants can live in harmony. I'm no statesman but that sounds pretty good to me. Anyways, we decided to start to be conquering that very establishment and now I'm hanging like a sausage from the rafters. It's a good thing I spent so many hours upside down prior. Otherwise I might have gotten a headache by now.

Desna preserve me! Who else but one of my former colleague was thrown in this cell with me. Good old Rogar Hammerfist! Still as fiesty as ever. After tossing 10 guards about, they finally managed to get him clapped in some irons on the wall. After he shared some choice words about the livelihoods of their mothers and comparing them to some beast of burdens, he laughed and sat down in what I take to be some meditative posture. Coiled like a very angry dwarven snake, he dared them to let them out of the chains. The guards shook their heads, nursed their bruises and shuffled out of the room (not before one of them gave me a shove so that I began to swing like a pendulum). As Rogar took stock of the situation around him, he glanced to see me swinging about, waving a friendly hello to him. We quickly got reacquainted and it turns out he was involved in the same scuffle that broke out in the drinking establishment that me and my cousin were at. Wonders never cease!

So I guess I am once again called into the service of some "mysterious benefactor". Apparently, my cousin, Rogar, myself and several others are to assist some noble recover some artifacts. I didn't mind (though he could have just asked and spared me the "under penalty of death" part) but some of my new companions were less than pleased. It's better than being batted around like a cat toy while trying to plot an escape. In any case, we all are now the proud owners of a glowing "death sigil" that shines even through our clothing. "Everyone will see that you have been marked for death and will steer clear of you!" our employer told us. I shrugged, all the same to me. Our party is now to escort some "minder" to some ancient ruin, so that he may find some stuff and then we get the sigil removed. I'm sure this time everything will work out.

Well, I better write this down before we head into this hole under the tree. On the way to our destination, we spotted what appeared to be some "damsel in distress". Rogar, ever the gentledwarf, rode out to see what assistance he could render. The "damsel in distress" though she could pull a fast one on our "Fists of Fury" but she didn't realize covering yourself in blood and having some poorly hidden Lizardfolk in ambush positions alongside the road is bound to catch someone's attention. Well, one thing lead to too many, and battle was initiated. I must say I am impressed with the skill and grit of our party. My own contribution was paltry in comparison to everyone else. Rogar seems to have improved immensely from our last collaboration. In any case, we won the day and now we stand before a big stone door with a gear on it. I'm sure this time it will be as easy as falling into bed after a long days work.

So we have successfully recovered the artifacts. The place was fairly standard for some place of worship built under a giant tree.
Cryptic messages engraved into stone tablets, check.
Doors trapped with giant axes (which I unwittingly disarmed), check.
Pit trap with some dull spikes on the bottom [ poor Roku )-: ], check.
Hidden altar that has a bag of dirt that turns things invisible, check.
Black monster tentacles that drop gold as they retreat into the walls, check.
Room that floods with water in the hopes the occupants drown, check.
Statues that come alive and rip pieces of themselves to use as projectiles, check.
Roof that is slowly collapsing, potentially burying everyone left inside alive, check.
All in all, pretty standard stuff. I did get tossed (which I do so enjoy...brings me back to my days of being an acrobat) and took a nasty knock on the head from the statue. I forgot that just trying to run under the legs of a 10 foot living statue is bound to not work out. As the rest of the party turned invisible with the magic dirt, I decided to try something a bit more dynamic to make my exit. Luckily we all survived, including my new friend Roku, and we are coming up on the camp were we shall be granted our freedom. I'm sure this will work out just fine.

Whoomp there it is

So I've decided to start post this dream and letting you dream analyst types have at it.

I just woke up from having this dream-

My friends, Collen, Robert and myself are sitting in the attic of a cafe in some unknown dirty city. I had just arrived from another dream involving a neon orange and purple spider dancing on someone's face. Of course everyone was filming with their smartphones, so they could load it up to Youtube. After the dancing spider, I entered the cafe and talked to the owner about how his day was going so far.

"Pretty weird!!!", he said.

What he didn't realize, and neither did I till this point, but the whole dancing spiders routine had been orchestrated by a group that I was working with to increase the number of strange things taking place in cafes around the city. This particular cafe today also had been serving just very tall people after breakfast exclusively. We are talking at least two standard deviations beyond the norm tall.

Anyways, I decide to start cooking up some food for hungry customers because I also work there now. Just then another spider drops down and falls next to the stove I'm using. Upon closer inspection, Haha just kidding... not an actual spider but a shrimp the cook behind me threw carelessly off her stove. The cook comes running over to me and starts opening some sour cream and peanut butter containers.

"Why did you buy more? I have two more containers" she said sourly, as she removed two extra containers of peanut butter.

"I didn't buy more! I bought those at least a month ago because I eat here all the time!"

Suddenly a reaction from the crowd broke out...http://www.soundsnap.com/node/108700

After I had taken the moral high ground in our argument...I went up to the attic of this cafe/diner.

Taking a seat I began to notice all the intricate spiderwebs around. A particular large one descended on Collen, at which point a bullet shrimp carrying a bottle of pop in it's tiny claws drops down on his leg.

Collen, ever so casually, brushes the shrimp off as if to say "Oh jeez, not this shrimp again guys..."

The shrimp scurries over to Robert and hands the bottle to him. He takes a good swig and hands the bottle to me.

This music begins to play: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-FPimCmbX8
 at which point Robert, Collen, myself and the shrimp begin to dance.

I woke up, brushed the spiders out of my eyes, coughed up a few spiders, shook the spiders off my hands and decided to write this down.

Have at it folks!

(I actually didn't have to deal with any spiders in the morning)