You know the feeling when the sun peers in through the windowsill after a tavern's night with dwarves; that searing regret and general disorientation?
Dispatching the mephits and those hellspawn was pretty darn close to that. Oh gods, what I'd give now for a pint of Jolly Dwarf...
On the topic of unfortunate conclusions, we found no means to quell the seemingly eternal blue flame. Spells, conventional fire safety methods, unconventional fire safety methods, stuffing roasted carcasses into the flaming maw...
All means were met with failure.
So we embarked like a tribe of neanderthals smelling of baked flesh, no wiser to our peril.
To the northwest we encountered the bodies of three dead humans. A brief inspection led us to believe they were cavemen.
Not a moment later, we were beset by a small cohort of irate mounted cavemen - confirming our suspicions that the bodies were indeed probably cavemen in nature.
Ever the diplomats, and with a child's capacity for the native language in our arsenal, we immediately dissuaded their obvious assumptions that the death of their comrades were any fault of ours.
Many grunts and single-syllable words were exchanged.
They were convinced - thankfully - and graciously invited us to join them. Trapped within a clearly inhospitable land, we had little choice but to agree...
Their mounts were astonishingly large and jarringly reptilian. In a scrap, outnumbered and in our depleted state, we stood little chance of victory much less survival. So we followed them until they discovered a path to a Hutaakan encampment. Graciously, they again invited us to join in a glorious raid.
Feigning fatigue and destitution, we pled them to allow us refuge in their camp instead. They agreed. Our party was to continue down the road to their settlement, while the lizard-riding cavemen attended to their pillaging.
We thanked them for their hospitality...
and promptly ran away expeditiously, as soon as we were out of eyeshot.
Goddamn savages...
A great debate amongst us surfaced that night as we found refuge in an abandoned home. By the fire, we pondered a deep philosophical quandary - were they reaaaallllyyyy slaves though?
Hostile as they've been, the stories of every caveman we've encountered painted themselves the victim. Though we've yet to encounter a single Hutaakan to defend their claims.
And as if fate herself heard our confused mutterings... a glowing light in the wooded night appeared. A pair of Hutakaans surveyed our shoddy state and - just as the cavemen did - invited us to their encampment. If nothing else, we can at least make sense of what the hell is going on in this accursed valley.
So we agreed.
In the village, we were met by a stunning figure... the High Priestess of Pflarr herself, Foredz.
She had an obstinate yet remarkably lucid gaze. The very presence she held over our party and the entire encampment, carried an air of grace and stern determinism.
Foredz revealed a far different story than the cavemen had offered.
"We have coexisted with the humans of this land for centuries..." she declared.
"We taught them how to stand! We gave them a means to develop and survive just as Pflarr had graciously gifted to us."
As it happened in the Hutakaans' eyes, the great betrayal was the cavemen's and not theirs.
A few years ago, a leader named Gubri had set the humans on a path of destruction - not only of Hutaakan settlements and their people, but also of their temples and rituals.
It was this desecration that unleashed the undead blight and "flame elementals" to this land.
"The Temple of Pflarr must be cleansed," she proclaimed with a stern brow. And to this end, we are to march upon second temple 12 miles to the west of Byxata (the name of this, their largest remaining settlement).
There, we must retrieve "The Ritual" - whatever the hell that is. And use it to "heal" the Temple of Pflarr.
I fear that time is of the essence. I know not whether the Hutaakan people can survive a concerted assault by the cavemen. In all likelihood, the dozens of guards posted along the ramparts would do little to slow the carnage should this village be seiged.
I pray there is soup and song to greet us, whence we return.
If we return...
-Cyd
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