Emtih Tnod of Cendriane

Some cleric gave me this notebook to write in after the Red Hand was defeated in Brindol ten years ago. They said I should 'write my feelings' in it or some such nonsense and that it would make me feel better. What a load of hogwash... what difference does it make if I write my feelings down in this book, it won't change the fact that my family is dead and I am not. Its better just to bury these things and try to forget about them.

Except I can't forget about them. How could one forget hiding among the bodies of one's neighbours and family while hobgoblins torched the city of your birth around you? I'm not sure how I survived or why I lived and they all died, and no one has ever been able to explain it to me either. I guess it was just fate.

So, what do you do with these 'journal things' anyways.. I guess you talk about what you have been doing. Well.. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot...

So yesterday was the mead festival or something like that. All these damn villagers run around getting themselves piss drunk (along with the damn fool town guard I might add) and end up waking up the next morning in a place they don't know and unable to remember how they got there. I slept in a small woodlot just outside of town.. I mean, what idiot would actually sleep in town during that nonsense. What idiot would sleep in a town anyways? They're prime targets for any marauding hobgoblin armies, sleeping in the woods is far safer any day.

And you're probably thinkin' "you're just crazy.. there's not a hobgoblin within a hundred miles!" That's what the damn fool captain of the town guard said to me.

My old friend had invited me to come in and have a drink with her and some buddies today. I figur'd, what the hell, I might be able to derive some amusement from watching her pick the pocket of some clueless wench or hungover townie. 'Cept that's not how things turned out.

The group was almost a bad joke to begin with.. let me see, there was this magic lovin' young man celebratin' his graduation from some academy, a hulking half-dragon warrior, this short and deadly halfling, my eladrin old friend and myself. I don't remember half their names even, cuz almost immediately after we arriv'd and had gotten ourselves settled in some hobgoblins with red hands painted on their armour start bursting thro' the front door of the bar and hacked a couple of townies to pieces.

The short halfling guy we were sittin' with leaps across the table and kills one dead with a dagger. Pretty impressive for a halfling I must say, so I jump outta my chair and fire two arrows into the chest of anoth'r, pinning him to the wall. The fight continued for quite some time, with more hobgoblins jumpin' into the fray, setting the bar on fire, and the rest of the group joinin' in an' sending the hobgoblins to a painful death. Even saw one townie grab a chair and smash a hobgoblin wit' it. Too bad he died immediately after, but he did better than the rest of the townies who just either ran or died.

Anyways, shortly after we'd dispatched the last of the hobgoblin, up come some of the damn fool town guards. Sayin' something about how a hole had been left in the town wall and a hobgoblin army had used it as an entrance.. gee.. who would have thought that leavin' a massive hole in your city wall would be a bad idea? I started layin' into the damn fools after they demanded that we drag the bodies out of the bar but the halfling used his silver tongue to smooth things over. Still, I figure they should be givin' us bags of steel an' thanking us, not askin' us to be draggin' the corpses of hobgoblins about.

If they ain't goin' ta be killing the hobgoblins then they might as well be cleaning up the ones we kill. That's what I figure.

Ah well, doesn't matter I suppose, a short while later this huge ogre comes 'round the corner dragging a cart with a couple of hobgoblins in it. They toss what looks like this massive beer keg at us and it smashes into the ground, exploding and cooking the three damn fool town guards. Damn fools, and they wonder why I have no respect for their abilities. They up and die pretty much at the sight of a hobgoblin.

But that halfling, he and the half dragon go chargin' right at the ogre, screaming a mighty battle cry. I'll say, it was a sight that nearly brought a tear of joy to m'eye. 'Course, I, my old friend and magic boy were busy shootin' at the hobgoblin archers. The young man drops a fireball into the cart and it blows up sky high, sending great balls of fire everywhere. I guess the sight of such a fireball was a little much for the young man cuz he collapsed a few seconds later.. but it could've been those arrows stickin' in him too. He seemed fine now so I guess it was just the shock from the fireball.

The ogre went down pretty quick and I filled the one archer with so many arrows you'd think he was at the wrong end of an archery range. The last one up and started runnin' and I took off aft'r him but he got away. Well.. I'll get'm later.

I guess I'd better stop this writing stuff and get goin', it looks like the rest of the group is goin' ta starting heading towards the town center or somethin'. They seem a'right so far, and are pretty useful in a fight that's fo'sure. And if the Red Hand really is back I don't think I can kill them all by m'self.

-Emtih Tnod, 11 Freyja