Cleric Journal: Day Sixty-Nine
Originally published at J.A. Pitts. You can comment here or there.
Ugh, I did not get enough sleep. Not so long ago I’d slept away several days while I was lost near death. Now I’d eschew worshiping with twin nubile temple virgins for another hour of sleep. Don’t tell Sister Agnes I said that, she would be so disappointed. It had been one of our goals.
Liz is amazing. No matter how rough the terrain, she always finds a path toward our goal that avoids things like being arse deep in leeches or biting things. I could see her confidence growing with every encounter. Her ability to forage as we traveled was another thing of beauty. I had no idea the swamp could produce so much food. I recognized some of the things she convinced me to eat from my early wanderings in the swamp. The abundance of food astounds me now. Thinking of how close I came to starving to death, my ignorance shames me.
We found a spot where the Trogs had wiped out a small group of Bullywogs. This made Liz very happy. If our enemies were killing each other, it was a good day. I was surprised that the Trogs hadn’t eaten the dead. This confused Liz as well so we left that area with some haste. Luckily, Liz was able to track the Trogs that had ambushed the Bullywogs. We debated back tracking the Bullywogs since they are the ones who took Liz’s people, but the Trogs were closer and a more immediate threat.
Okay, we made our way closer to the Trog camp. We did not see any guards or scouts. They are really arrogant and single minded creatures. The fact they did not eat the Bullywogs they killed still bugs Liz. Something does not make a lot of sense. There’s an explanation, but we don’t know it yet. She’s cute when she’s frustrated. It’s like having a little sister who can bite your throat out.
The Trog encampment was a league closer to the temple, definitely in the same neighborhood. There were more ruins here, broken buildings that kept out the light and provided a bit of defense. Trogs were not the brightest tacticians, Liz complained, so them fortifying themselves in the ruins meant that something tougher was controlling them.
Also, for the record keepers and historians; Trogs do not take orders from just anyone. They kill and eat their own if they prove to be too weak to fight. A leader would have to be something far stronger, far more sinister, and very likely far out of our league. We watched them for most of the daylight hours. They really did not want to come out of the ruins and we had no desire to go in. We were hoping to spot whatever was keeping the Trogs from running amok.
Since the Trogs were between us and the tower we decided to give up on our spying and find a place to hold up. They would be launching patrols after dark and we did not want to be caught out in the open.
We fell back to a small islet Liz found where we had only one bit of obvious solid ground in and out. Very defensible, but cut us off from our own escape. It was also off the existing paths the Trogs had been trodding so we should be safe.
Another night of no fire, and cold food, but we were in the thick of things now. And with only the two of us, we had to plan very carefully.
Liz had counted twenty Trogs and I counted seventeen. We decided to go with her count. There was also an unknown in the camp that had to be meaner than the Trogs, so that probably counted for more than a few additional foes. We were horribly outnumbered.
Liz has undergone such a huge transformation from the starveling I found mere weeks ago. There was a subtle to her movements, a confidence and a level of skill that outstripped the young warrior I first met. It was as if she’d come in to her own in a similar fashion to my own growth. This area had been picked pretty clean by the Trogs so we were having difficulty foraging. Liz, in frustration spoke of a power she’d seen once and held out her hands for emphasis. She said her father had powers no one in her tribe had ever mimicked. She was wishing she had his abilities when a handful of berries appeared.
It was magic, of course. I’ve channeled enough Divinity by this point to recognize it when I see it. They were different from other berries we’d eaten. These were pink. She was so startled that she dropped the berries. I gathered them quickly and popped one into my mouth.
It was as if I’d eaten a full day of solid, nourishing food. I handed her one and she ate it, a look of wonder spreading over her face. “Good berries,” she called them. We ate a second one and we both felt better than we had in weeks.
We were just getting settled down when Liz lifted her head and sniffed the air. “They go out on patrol,” she said. Perhaps we should see about ambushing a new group. She had her new shield and her spear. I had my mace and my shield, carefully painted by Liz if I haven’t mentioned that in a while. It really made me feel dignified. She did such a nice job.
“Let’s hunt,” she growled and we slipped out into the night.