~A journal lies open on a table in a room at the Foxy Ferret. Scrawled upon the page are Dwarven runes…
I arrived in Reddingtown yesterday and I must admit my expectations of this place have already been exceeded. By all evidence it seems to be a place where a dwarf can come with nary but a crossbow in hand and the monkey on his back and end the day with a fortune. Still, any good Dwarf knows that the Dwarf forgin' the picks is bound to make as much coin as one swingin' it. But I digress…
It was no sooner than I entered the local tavern that I met up with some local adventurers, it seems one of them, a strapping fellow by the name of Einhardt, had a lead on some cannibal Halflings taking up residence in the Howling Hills. It would seem however that I wasn't the only greenhorn looking for an honest day's battle. There was a holy fighter of some sort who went by Kenickie, Mazazar was a Sorcerer, and there was a halfling fellow riding a wolf he called doobs (to whom Günter took an immediate distrust).
We traveled quite a distance before coming on a sort of fort the halflings had made in the hills. From afar we could see halflings stationed at vantage points around the perimeter of a large cage with three ravenous looking dire badgers, which immediately became the focus of our plans. After considering our options it seemed like a good idea to attempt to set the cage on fire to discourage the halflings from releasing the badgers. We formed two parties and stationed each on opposite sides of the camp and gave the signal to strike. The better armored among us scrambled up the hills to take out the halfling guards as Mazazar and I gave ranged support. One of others went to light the cage on fire with some tall grass he had cut down and lit with some flint. As we cleared the gaurds on the surface it became clear that there were more dwelling in hovels below, and we prepared to attack as they crawled out of their holes. One came out near me and left Günter a nasty scratch, but it sounded like we had the lighter share of the burden on our side of the camp.
Anyways with the ankle-biters out of the way (and fortunately with no fatalities on our side) we searched for anything of value the little shits might have hoarded from travelers they had ambushed. We didn't find any gems or fine metals, but we did find some very high quality halfling smut for which I'm sure I can find a buyer somewhere. Before we left we all felt a little bad about committing the badgers to a fate of flames, so we released them and left them some food in hopes that they wouldn't decide to eat us. Apparently it worked! We hiked on back to the Foxy Ferret, fortune in hand and heads held high.
Today I've just been catching up on local news and seeking buyers for the fine artwork we acquired, but some of the other locals have been up to some bartering of their own. A half-orc fellow was handing out some kind of healing salve in exchange for gold, or maybe shoes? I was a little confused about his pricing model. I also heard someone named Silas was trying to make a deal with a tree. All of this new information is still a little confounding, and to make it worse the town hasn't a single drop of good spirit! Or I should say hadn't, until someone brought back five kegs of Elven wine from some local vineyard they called the shining hall. It wasn't the dwarven brew I'm used to at home, but it sure did the trick! Well, perhaps it's time to retire, I can see Günter has dug my robe and slippers out of my bag and elven wine always seems to make my eyelids a little heavy. Adventure awaits!
~The runes end, but just just below them on the page is a crudely drawn banana that seems to have been scrawled by a finger or paw dipped in the inkwell nearby