Protect me my queen,
It has been a long day.
The screaming we had heard was that of four villagers taken by gnolls in the swamp. A bloody fight ensued with only one of the humans surviving, it was a gruesome affair I must confess and my companions did well in the face of savage beasts. The paladin seems blessed indeed and at one point golden wings emerged from her back and she rose in the sky like a beacon of hope, I have never seen such a thing.
The survivor told us of their capture and that they were the residents of a small village in the swamped named Bel. These people have come to live here surprise me. Why would any choose such a life of misery in this fetid marshland? Some of their stories start with an unofficial leader who prefers to live alone and who calls herself Barithia.
I am learning about ley lines from the wizard, I wish to understand the nuances of the weave in a such a way that I could take advantage, it sounds like they are just rivers of power.
I had first thought the village was victim of a hag or something, and one of them had mentioned a ‘Lady of the Swamp’, which the knowledgeable cleric described as sounding like a banshee in these parts. I created a circle of protection using the same stones I used in my ritual with you.
Sure, enough when we had settled into our camp, the spectre was seen by the paladin crossing the lake to one of the houses.
The banshee’s wretched wail seemed to reach into my mind and soul and knocked me unconscious, I am to understand half of us befell the same fate. The paladin’s healing hands raised me to the fighting once again with Frostweaver serving me well, cutting through spirit as well as it would through flesh. I finished this specter and in its last moments, according to the tabaxi, the banshees face was that of the apothecary from Drynna, I do not know what this means, but I recall that below her house was the remains of a gnoll encampment, perhaps a coincidence, perhaps not.
Yours