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OOC: We last left our adventurers at the red kobold camp, where they just battled three small warforged who had tried to assassinate the leader of the kobold tribe. They meet a naga cleric, who comes in handy during the battle. Of course, real life interfered and our cleric (aka “Magic Fingers“) was unable to come to the next session….
The naga can’t leave the kobold village with us until he clears it with his elders. I wonder if he has to ask his elders permission to eat, sleep, and defecate. If so, he might not be worth taking along at all.
The gnoll finally awakens and we have to explain to him everything that’s happened in the past nearly two days. Frank tries to butt in with how heroic he was saving the kobold leader’s life with his Restoration spell, but everyone knows it was my antitoxin that really saved him. Now I’m down to 4. I had better not regret that decision later.
We have been told by the kobold leader that to the northwest there is an old dryad that knows the area better than anyone. She can tell us where to find the constructs and their companions. Hakim’s eyes widen and he starts spouting off about how he’s not going to deal with any dryads. “Is it any worse than dealing with Frank?” I ask. Hakim ponders this.
Meanwhile, Eko is holding the Daisy staff at arm’s length, wrinkling his nose. He gives it back to Frank, who promises to clean her up and make her pretty. I’m hoping that while doing so he contracts some sort of flesh-eating disease and dies.
The kobold leader suggests we take one of his healers with us as we travel to the dryad and then on to scout out the location of the other constructs. We’re all a bit tired from the big fight, except the gnoll, who proclaims, “I feel great!” I slap him upside the head and he yelps. Stupid dog.
We have been traveling northwest the entire day. I must say, it is nice to travel in relative silence.
After a restful night’s sleep, we continue on our path and find two abandoned villages. Name’s nostrils flare as she takes in scents that only she can smell. “Orcs,” she says of the first camp. “Shifters!” she says of the second. Both camps have been cleaned out long ago, at least a couple months.
We sleep well. It’s awfully quiet without Frank.
We’re still on the path to the dryad tree. I’m sick of mangoes.
Still traveling. At least now that we’ve been away from Daisy a while, I don’t wretch every time I get a whiff of the gnoll.
Today we reached a clearing. There is nothing but tree stumps as far as we can see. Name smells grease and oil and we see tracks that don’t appear to come from animals. In the distance, we see the crown of a tall tree. The gnoll bolts across the clearing towards the tree, followed by the kobold. Name and I decide the cautious approach is best in an area with no cover. We turn around to see if Hakim is coming, and he’s gone. Oh well.
We’re only halfway across the clearing when we see the gnoll running back to us. Between gasps for air, the gnoll explains himself:
Oh, north in an airship. Tell us something we don’t know! To make matters worth, Name and the gnoll get in an argument about whether they should try to follow the tracks. I take a seat on one of the stumps and braid my hair. If Frank were here, I’d at least be entertained with his stupidity.
The kobold returns to our group and says the dryad will speak to the gnoll now. The gnoll licks his paws and grooms his face. Nasty. When he returns, his face is aglow with excitement.
“I know where we should go! Follow me!”
He runs off and we follow. What choice do we have?