Thennek, entry #1

Thennek, warlock of Ilian Observatory

After the fighting ended, the pain from the acid hit me. My hands shook as I fumbled in my pack for the healing potion the villagers gave me. Once I managed to pop the cork out, I drank the pungent liquid like a man dying of thirst.  Who would of thought that I, Thennek of Ilian Observatory would be in a cellar, surrounded by dead bandits, smashed skeletons and companions suited to violence.

But I get ahead of myself. I should have begun this journal weeks ago when the letter came from Lapu, my colleague. Yes, he was dead, and the letter said not to follow him, but the secret message encoded within said to come to Salt Marsh. So I took  leave of absence and made my way on hired hired coaches until the most dilapidated one dropped me off in front of the only  inn in the town.

The ground squished as I stepped out. Muck suctioned my boots with every splorching steps. On entry into the inn, it seemed the locals were eager for an adventuring party to take up some problem with a haunted hermit house. Which worked out because that’s where the books I needed would be. So, I joined up with the other new arrivals. An aasimar paladin, bard, rogue, and artificer. I think they have names, but I’ll be damned if I can remember them. Even now, my hands are still shaking as I write this.

The village kids followed us most of the way, like we were a band of heroes. I suppose some of us were. The paladin certainly thought he was. By the time we reached the decrepit house, the kids were long gone. A cursory search around the house revealed a well with coins and feral ferrets. Or weasels. I think the paladin got bit, but he shrugged it off. I managed to kill a shrubbery with a blast of eldritch might I knew how to summon. I may be the smartest person here, but am clearly not the most effectual. But I did discover the well and coins first. Really.

Once we entered the house, the pungent aroma of mildew assaulted the senses. I’d lost my last handkerchief to an allergenic midwife three carriages back, so I bore it and hoped nothing would come to roost in my lungs. A cursory explorations led us to the library, which yielded a few rare copies. The Metaphysics of Mathematics caught my eye. Maybe it will prove useful, but I knew these were not the real trove.

I tripped a spell trap in the westernmost room, but also found a trap door. No major ill effect, and the trap door led to the cellar. The paladin led the charge and apparently bandits live down there, using the legend of the house to scare people off. Among the bandits were a couple, sadly after one died in the fighting, the other man grew enraged and my eldritch blast ended that. Not a great mark for my ledger, but they were bandits. I didn’t have time or interest in digging into whatever scheme they had, smuggling probably. I found another secret door, and the elf found a room with brain maggots or something in a set of armor.

After that, came the barred door. The party listened to me and we set up a rope to clear the bar and open the door from a distance. Good thing because the conga line of skeletons tried to make their way out. The paladin and bard managed to hold the front line while we shot or blasted them. Then came the undead alchemist. And the acid grenade he hit me with. We managed to destroy him, and rifle through his stuff. The bag of holding we found turned to good use by stuffing the books and lab equipment. The books, I’ll keep, the rest, we can sell and at least compensate the heroes for their trouble. There might be answers in the books.

The alchemist was known for theories. Theories that might help be calculate the coming—

I’m ahead of myself. People died today. Smugglers who setup dangerous traps. People who loved each other. And I killed one of them. With all the unspeakable things I have seen while gazing into the abyss, this this is what troubles my nerves. Not that we are not alone, unobserved. But, that they can see what we have done. Will do again. There is always a toll and—

The rogue heard a noise. There were ten beds down here, but not ten bodies. Where are the others?