Heeding the Ape-men warning and avoiding the mysterious village, the party continued north. Now and again, the snooping ass ape-men could be seen in the distance. They demanded to keep a close eye on the party. Next thing we knew, the we walked smack-dab into the middle of a thri-kreen hunting party. We tried to avoid conflict, but they would have none of it. Reaching in to his bag of tricks, Zudravno grabbed a fistful of sand and chanted some words of ancient arcane magic. Half the bug-men crumpled to sleep. A few sword slashes later and only two remained standing. They were soon dispatched, but not until after unleashing a flurry of claw/claw/claw/claw/bites. Wounded a whipped, the explorers retreated back to camp.
Dickshit applied the ministrations to those in need and the party was ready to roll once again. This time, Zudravno gave Ned the day off. Next thing they knew, their nostrils were assaulted by a heavy, pungle, anal pasting scent. The source of this scent…well…it escapes me at this moment. It must have been some manner of nameless, formless, faceless horror. But, as the memory of that moment has since been wiped from my mind, I cannot expound on this any further.
Then there was the mysterious luminescent, translucent structure that appeared quite ancient. And then there they were: more blasphemous undead. Gripping his symbol of Odin tight, Zudravno brandished it before him and called upon the power of Odin to cleans this blight. Instead, this accursed place provided an unholy sanctuary from even the mighty Odin. Balboa turned tail and ran; Zudravno followed soon after. No telling what evil suffuses that structure, but perhaps some places are best left unmolested.
What I can say is that the next goal will be to explore deeper into the depths of the island. More undead is known to haunt some of the depths far too near the camp. Perhaps it’s time to bring down Odin’s wrath upon their heads.