Yuria's Log: Day 2

10/17/2011
Day 2
     The dwarf’s journal spoke of silver barked trees with flaming orange leaves. I assumed Drogo would have a good sense of where these trees might be found and he certainly did. Our morning began with quite a bit of tracking, following Drogo’s intuition. At one point, we found ourselves along a river bed where a bridge had once been, but was now broken into pieces. The logs had floated down stream, bunched up into what appeared to be a dam.
     Not eager to walk on the wooden planks, we collectively decided to cross them none the less. Sir Thoran went first, but he did not seem pleased by this. He was followed closely by Loogan. Lament and I went center. I was not too fond of crossing the water, especially on soaked pieces of wood. I kept thinking there had to be another way! Drogo, pulling our mule, went last. The mule didn’t seem very keen on crossing either. Smart creature, I’d say. Never did like the water and definitely didn’t like it when it was moving at high speeds. This river, which I can’t recall the name of, wasn’t as fast as some that I had encountered in the past, but it was fast enough to take a dwarf like me full speed down into the depths of its wavy currents.

     I was a bit distracted by trying not to fall into the water, when out of no where, dwellers appeared. Dwellers were undead, amphibious creatures. I had seen them in some of the books during my clerical studies. We were quick to react and initiate combat. Easily, we managed to take them down. I had no doubt that we would. A drow, who we had a hard time spotting, continued to lurk about. Could this be what I had seen in the sky the day before? The one time I managed to uncloak him with my Beacon of Hope, he did not attack us, but dove into the water beneath the pile of logs. The Light seemed to torture him. I believe Pelor was punishing him. For what, I am not certain. Cracks began to form from beneath the wooden pile. Loogan and Drogo were still on them and began to get pulled into the water. Drogo dodged back onto land and Lament teleported himself with his Rod of Malign Conveyance.
      At some point, all the logs had completely broken up and began floating down the river. Lament noticed that the drow was holding onto a log by his finger tips about sixty feet down stream. Drogo, who was still on the other side of the river with the mule, decided to chase the log down the river, shooting his arrows like a madmen. What a crazy elf? At least, he’s determined. I have to give him that much. With no luck, he was unable to get to the drow. I notice him dive back into the water and couldn’t see much of him from there after.
      I was still standing on the river bank across from the mule. I tried to coax the mule to come across or at least go further down the river bank on its side, but he wouldn’t budge. I have a greater understanding of the “stubborn like a mule” phrase now. I decided to wait for Drogo and Lament to return. Loogan and Sir Thoran joined me in the wait. Sir Thoran began pacing, yearning for the mule, but mostly just the kegs. “Too bad the mule is on the other side of the river. A large mug of beer could be useful right about now,” he had said longingly.
      Drogo and Lament returned, they told us that they were unable to find the drow (which was obviously apparent), but they knew he’d be coming back with a vengeance. I still wonder if the drow was even in association with the dwellers or had he come on his own accord with his own intents. Drogo had said, “I have an idea. We’ll use the rope to send the gear across. Yes, with the keg,” directing the comment to Sir Thoran. “Then, the mule. I’ll do my best to calm him.” Drogo is pretty good with the critters. I think this will be helpful in future endeavours. Thankfully, we got everyone and everything across the river just in time for dinner. The night will not pass by so quickly, I fear.