Session Notes
Oh, beloved reader, does your humble chronicler have news for you!
Our heroes, the Circle of Darkmoor continue their rampage through the marshes of far eastern Darkmoor. Or is it the Earldom of Eegland at that point? Accounts vary.
Since last I put pen to parchment the Circle, as recounted in my previous missive, having ventured into a muddy trail studded with wicker men, finally, finally realized that the thatch-roofed structure looming before them must surely be the Hay Barn. A location about which they had been warned numerous times to assiduously avoid. Avoiding threats despite repeated forewarnings is not, as you have doubtless observed, a characteristic highly prized by our heroes.
The famous, feared shambler was only a few feet away, feeding on the one dark cloak who had escaped them.
You, or certainly I, dear reader, might have used the brief opportunity to tiptoe away while the great beast was focused on its prey. Not our heroes. No. They proceeded, led by Sir Kog the fearless!
Naturally, a great clash ensued, between this legendary monster and our heroes. Were there great deeds? Of course. Setbacks? Perhaps. Sir Kog fleeing like a frightened girl, orcish tail tucked between his thick, chafing legs? Who can say?
They were aided, so the reports, by the spirit of the long-deceased Inspector of Darkmoor, Honaldo. What is it about this group that causes the dead to walk again? Whatever fell magics are at work, the Circle with their bony companion defeated the shambler. The great beast is dead.
Within the now-liberated Hay Barn they discovered the lost documents of Honaldo, including the only surviving record that could answer the territoriality question regarding that corner of the map. Perhaps they will live to see it brought to light.
Amongst those papers was some hint that there might be a secret tunnel leading from the Moat House to the Hay Barn. Or, most usefully from their perspective, the reverse.
The heroes, at the latest reporting, are making their way along the tunnel, past the vaunted defenses of the Moat House.
Muddied, bloodied, approaching a viper’s nest of cruel enemies in the dark, what chance have our heroes? Return to whatever street urchin you purchased this report from for the next edition to discover for yourself.