From the diary of Sir Ambrose Tubertoes, Ogre and Bee-Slayer of Hut:
Thanks to my goddess and the luck she has bestowed, I have been taken back to Hut where I may once again prove myself as both a warrior and chosen of Desna. Our mission was to destroy the newly-created honey hive and retrieve the sheriff’s body from the gorge.
While Gorehound used his druidic prowess to sample the honey for clues, Wolfrid went in with a smokestick creating chaos within the hive. The wise mage, Blackthorne, predicting a tough battle, enlarged Chok, who easily slayed at least a hundred bees. He is clearly a master of his weapon and a worthy companion in battle. Wolfrid, striking from the smoke like a butterfly from the morning mist, slayed another hundred. When the situation looked dire for a bee-surrounded Gorehound, Blackthorne valiantly protected him with his illusory wasp. Beneath that wizard’s rough exterior lies the soul of a hero. His monkey comments are surely made in jest. Slaying several bees, I made a challenge to the queen that went unanswered, but her cowardice spoke volumes. Bees continued flooding the corridor, but we pressed on.
After awhile, things started to look grim. I recently discovered Gorehound had an aversion to all things sticky which limited his druidic abilities. Blackthorne, usually found at the back of the battle was forced to retreat even further after being swarmed by bees. Luckily for him, Desna intervened, causing the bees to confusingly attack each other.
While Gorehound and Blackthorne concentrated on the swarms, Chok, Wolfrid, Henry, and I kept pressure on the queen. Chok took a majority of the damage, but managed to persevere. Unfortunately, after drinking one of our healing potions, he collapsed. I am now questioning my own potion’s ability. The bee swarms made for us once more, but a grease spell cast by the inimitable Blackthorn ensured they were once more immobilized. After being healed by Gorehound, the lion, Henry, managed to get revenge on the Queen Bee, striking the killing blow.
Aeolus and I escaped relatively unscathed, surely protected by Desna’s luck.
After a long discussion with a native bird (Gorehound’s ability continues to amaze me. I must ask him to converse with Aeolus sometime), the avian eyewitness revealed that gnomes or something gnome-like were behind this sticky situation! I bee-hooved others to pray to Desna for guidance. Gorehound bee-lieves gnomes could bee bee-hind this bee-havior. Haha- oh Desna, thank you for that bee-lessing.
Interesting sidenote: Local elder and old maid, Agnes Spriggens, told us that Dondrik Banderoff, a fugitive from the past, bears an uncanny resemblance to our own Wolfrid Stark. A mysterious coincidence indeed. I’m sure Desna will sort it all out.
Ultimately, I have endeared myself to the people of Hut and they have most clearly welcomed me as a resident, friend, and most importantly, hero.