As my last journal entry stated, I had landed up in the company of a Tarmak, known to some as "brutes". I don’t know much about him, save that he was once forced to serve the Knights of Neraka. He rebelled against them. We two make a good pair, I think. Just a couple of "misfits".
We had been around the town of Pashin for a while. One day, we come across a local thug. Seems he thought a kender stole his purse. One thing I learned from my father is that kender aren’t always what they appear. I could tell right away that this wasn’t true, since the kender was protecting his young daughter.
My Tarmak friend and I felt this thug needed a lesson. We tried to be nice, but he wouldn’t have it. Then he invited his friends. It was a hard-fought battle, but we won. The kender and his girl got away.
Pretty soon, we heard word that the Herald was in town. I thought we could use a good tale, and to hear the Herald…well, you only get that opportunity once in a lifetime. We found where he was performing, and went to hear him.
His performance was captivating – the best I had ever heard. Unfortunately, some of the Dark Knights took exception to his story of the War of Souls. Next I knew, we were in a brawl. I was preparing some spells to try to settle the brawl, when everything went dark.
I awoke to find that the brawl had ended on its own. My Tarmak friend apparently didn’t fare much better. We checked on the Herald, when he told us of a prophecy, and a key that wasn’t a key. Next thing I know, we’re on the road to recapture this key from a group of bandits.
We traveled all day and thought that we may have taken the wrong path for a bit, when we discovered the camp of a former squire for the Dark Knights and his bandit thugs. We fought a few guards, but landed up on the brink of death, along with a guard.
It was humiliating to know that we had to be rescued, and that the key had to be retrieved for us…