Medievia Mudslinger

December 29, 2004

The Journal of Ta'nog by Noelio

As found by Lear, Elder Elf of the Wittermark.

It had been two years since anyone had made it out of Wittermark alive. The last, a certain trader looking to sell goods to the elves there, told of trees that moved and forest nymphs that attacked anyone they saw. Many bold adventurers had tried to figure out the mystery; all had died. But I went there for a different cause. I went there for revenge.

My wife had been one of those adventurers. She went seeking glory and fame and I never heard of her again. For a whole year now I have waited, hoping that someone might have heard of her. By now no one went into Wittermark forest. My friends had tried to get me to move on, but I couldn't. I had to have my wife back. So here I am, three weeks out from Treller, and most likely heading to my death.

By my calculations earlier I estimated that I would arrive at the forest in nine more days of traveling. I had prepared well, both physically and mentally. I would not fall into the same trap the others had. I had a full pack of potions and scrolls and everything at the ready. As I approached Wittermark I grew increasingly vigilant. Wandering rogues and bandits were not to be trifled with.


Well I've arrived. After four-and-a-half weeks of being on the road I am now about to enter the forest. I'm going to leave a copy of my travel journal just outside the entrance in case I don't make it out alive. It includes my name and all the other information one might want to put on my tombstone. I let my horse go and shed myself of all unnecessary weight. I've decided to sleep the night and enter the forest in the morning. Allow myself many good hours of light rather then stumbling about in the dark. A campfire would be too much of a risk, so I ate my food cold and curled up in the sleeping bag.

DAY 1: I woke up today bright and early. Packing my bags, I headed out into the forest as the sun was just clearing the trees. The Wittermark is much darker then the other forests I've been too. Its tall trees make it out to be one of the oldest left in the world. I've met no one of any interest yet. My compass showed me to be heading in a westerly direction. No sign of anything out of the ordinary. I set up camp at dusk and prepared for the night.

DAY 2: This morning was like none I have ever seen before. No sun, just a grey fog everywhere. I couldn't see anything farther away than two yards. My compass must have broke. The needle just spins endlessly in circles. I tried using the small magic that I know to correct it, but to no avail.

And with this damned fog I don't know how I'll ever get out. I tried taking bearings and going in a straight line but I have no way of knowing if I'm going in circles or what. I'll probably get ready for bed soon.

DAY 3: I woke up to the sound of leaves rustling in the trees. I don't remember going to bed last night and it would appear as if I had just collapsed. The fog is the same as yesterday's. But every now and then I could swear I see shapes dancing in the background. They move quickly, and before I can think to look twice, they are gone. Maybe it is just my paranoia, or maybe something is out there. I tried running in the direction of the figures, but ended up running straight into a tree or into a ditch. It's as if nature itself is playing tricks on me.

DAY 4: I went to bed late last night. When I woke up this morning my pack was gone. There was no trace that anything had attacked my campsite. Somehow the bag had simply gone missing. I have so many questions and no answers. I walked aimlessly not really trying to go in a straight line just looking for food and water. I spent hours looking yet have found none. There seems to be no water at all in this gods-forsaken place. Despair is beginning to sink in, and I don't know if there is any way to get out.

DAY 5: My campsite was attacked last night. I barely had time to crawl out of my sleeping bag before the first thing upon me. They were like wood yet they had arms and legs and fingers. They seemed to scream as they thrashed about yet I could not understood what they were trying to say. After what must have been ten minutes of fierce fighting they fell back. In my maddened rage I pursued but lost track of them almost immediately. I tried to return to my campsite but found that I had become greatly disoriented. I was cold and needed shelter badly. I spent all today looking for water and shelter but found neither. There seems to be no place that is protected from the wind and no water anywhere. I would give almost anything to breathe fresh air and drink clean water again.

DAY 6: While looking for a campsite I was attacked again last evening. There were more tree-things then before, and they attacked in a great mass. I worked as well with my sword yet there were too many, and they were too quick. Before long I was overpowered and beaten into unconsciousness. I don't know why I'm alive now, but I found some arrows nearby that seem to be well fashioned. Perhaps I have a friend in the forest after all. In the meantime I am wounded and am exhausted. I'm looking for a ditch or something to hide myself while I rest for the day.

DAY 7: I slept all day. It must be after midnight by now and I can hear odd rustling in the trees. I fear I may be attacked again and in my wounded state I would not last a minute. My only hope is that my pursuers don't find me here. Maybe my rescuers from last night will come to my rescue?

I have all but forgotten about my wife and I wish now just to make it out of here. But I fear no matter how much I wish it will never come true. I just hope that I am wrong.

I hear noises! They are coming I fear and I cannot last. This is my last testament I leave in writing. To anyone who finds this please ... avenge me!

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