Seriously, what the damned shit! We came to these damned woods looking for signs of Vrood and instead we found a lodge full of what I was convinced were werewolves. Turns out the they weren’t werewolves just ignorant simpering nobles under the supervision of an inept spiritbinder. In the span of a day we fought off a enormous poisonous spider that left Bjorn paralyzed, let the most competent person at the lodge get killed, and had to combat Walter, who somehow managed to get himself possessed, again. Naturally we followed this up this with a headlong change into a werewolf civil war, which was no less foolhardy because it was my idea. Now we are trapped on top of a temple tower in the middle of a war zone surrounded by lycanthropes, many of whom just had their leader killed, by us. Strangely I think if we don’t survive this I owe Silvia ten sovereigns.
Also Mordren is a werewolf.
We have a few moments to breathe up here. The battle has moved on for the time being and we have camped here to prepare the ritual outlined in the Halo of Dreams. Walter’s memory and Bjorn’s insight into the divine are more useful than my alchemy in this case giving me time to reflect. I really wish it didn’t. Sometimes it feels like the only thing that has kept me sane since the fire has been not stopping to think. Stopping to think causes me to remember that I have died three times already. Stopping makes me acknowledge that Walter’s legs were shattered when he somehow managed to survive a blow to the chest and a fall from the top of the tower. Stopping forces me to confront the fact that even if I can figure out the formula for the professor’s Wolfsbane potion Mordren’s blood frenzy during the fight with Mordrenach may put her beyond it’s aid. Stopping shows me that the wound on Bjorn was probably caused by teeth rather than claws. Stopping brings home the fact that we are about to summon an incredibly powerful entity that, despite the teachings of her priests, I am not convinced can be trusted to help us. Stopping means succumbing to the despair of Ustalav.
Stopping sucks, time to get moving.