Vision Quest in the savage lands - an Otis Ironhelm journal entry

Dear Diary,

You would not believe the atrocities I was subject to recently… trudging through the low ground air on dusty roads – more like trails if you ask me – and the ones less traveled at that. How I miss the vapor of the high mountain clouds. Instead we drink water straight from near stagnant pools and ponds! When I came to the university and offered my services of the Arcanum I certainly did not dream I would be put in such uncouth predicaments.

Tasked with speaking to savages!? The nerve… upon my return I am going to have words, WORDS I TELL YOU! I prepared as many prestidigitation spells as possible, even making a couple scrolls for backup.

I wasn’t going to step foot in that barbaric shamble of a camp they call a town, but my ancestral heritage and bravery stirred within and urged me on.

In order to secure the trust and treaty with the mongrels we had to perform a ceremony (barely passable as clownish) which involved drinking from the same basin. Whatever that brackish substance was compelled me and the others I was with – barely adequate as civilized folk themselves – on a “spirit journey”. Mongrels.. yes Mongrelmen, that is what I will call them.

I had to be partly possessed by something supernatural because I certainly wouldn’t have gone inside that cave otherwise; there were horrible fleshy and rotting creatures inside, I could smell it at the mouth of the cave.

We fought our way through courageously. I did everything I could just to keep those beasts from touching me. On more than one occasion I had to summon my most powerful of magics to repel the monstrous attacks but it was a double edges sword as the thunderwaves and whirlwinds slung unwanted dirt on me. I don’t even want to think about the possibility of the grime, spittle, blood, and other bodily excrement that might have gotten close to me… thank you Prestidigitation – I didn’t have to see it.

We eventually came to what must have been the objective of this laughable savage custom. A tremendous beast of a man… or was it bear… bear man who kept shifting and taunting. Oh I think I’m going to be sick just the thought of the sounds it made while transforming and the blood and gore beneath our boots from the wolf corpses. I.. I… need a moment…

…Needless to say we were successful with the Mongrelmens’ test. That’s enough of that. Perhaps the most wondrous of discoveries were made during the jaunt in the wilds. A writing utensil, such a marvelous invention – what it was doing in the hands of degenerates is beyond me – came into my possession through a barter. That prison swine of a drow made a deal to trade the obviously lavish ink pen for the admission of seven of his war casters. I agreed to pay their entrance but their acceptance would be up to their capability. I figured it a safe investment as they are sure to be bumbling apprentices at best and will quickly be expelled through overuse of the arcane art – or lack thereof.

At the end of the journey we spoke to Breward and obtained a magical device to bring back to our respective cities. More on that later, for now – I am experimenting with the powerful eldritch power of this ancient ink pen.

Otis Ironhelm



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