So much to think about…so much to figure out….these are not my strong points.
We celebrated in traditional Shoanti manner. Drinking, fighting, story telling, more fighting. With the exception of Blackhands, my companions didn’t seem to understand at first, but after a few drinks they joined in on all the fun. These good times didn’t last long though.
Sheriff Belor called for us the next morning. We thought we were done here. That we would all part ways and have a great memory to look back on. That’s one thing I’ve learned as an adult leaving my homeland…there’s no sense in making plans. Fate always has a better idea than you do.
We found ourselves investigating a murder. Getting us involved was the last ditch effort of a panicked lawman/ex-tribesman who couldn’t find any answers. It was a gruesome sight. Even with all this killing that we’ve been doing, it’s always off-putting to see innocent people getting carved up and strung up.
That sign…that sign that was carved in his back was the same that we saw under the glassworks…
in thistle top….
on the lock before we set whatever that man was free…
I think we did this… We set him free and now this is going on. There aren’t any coincidences here… I don’t dare say that out loud though. These people look at us like heroes. Who are we to take that away from them?
We missed all the markings, and all the markings point to ‘The Misgivings’. I hope Foxglove isn’t part of this, I genuinely liked him. Taking me on a hunt in a land I didn’t understand was a gesture of kindness I hoped to return one day. However, if he’s mixed up in this, then I’ll put em down without a second thought.