Over the past few days, I've noticed that a couple of my new friends (?) both keep daily journals of their travels. While I'm not completely sure what they put in theirs, I've decided to follow their example, if only to properly transcribe the weird turn of events my life has taken since I was suddenly transported across the continent. This book is one I brought from home, a guide to medicinal herbs that Edda made for me when I started as her apprentice. There's not much space left, but I can hopefully fit some writing within the margins of each page.
We finally were able to find passage out of Corterram via a very large mine cart that a criminal used to smuggle people out of the city. The ride to Iphandia was long, and we were stopped a few hours before our arrival but a break in the tracks which derailed the cart. Luckily, Arzula was able to wildshape into an ox and pull the mine cart back up. While I still do not understand my fellow druids' desires to turn into animals, I can't say it isn't occasionally useful. While we were righting the cart, we were slowly approached by a stone construct. While it did not seem to be aggressive, Mr. Lowtide insisted on putting it down. It, like the constructs back in Corterram, also ran on Lifeblood, but according to Mr. Lowtide that construct itself was much older than the ones used back in the city. I wonder what it was doing down there.
With the mine cart back on the tracks, we rode the cart until it naturally came to a stop. Our final destination was something that I could previously only imagine, an underground forest of giant glowing mushrooms, some as tall as the oldest trees back home. Nearby was a little town, Alveo, carved into the trunks of the largest of the mushroom trees. While we had finally reached Iphandia, we were still a long way from our intended destination of the city of Murcas.
Things have, of course, just gone south from there. While we could walk through the Deeplands to Murcas, Arinelle estimated that could take a couple of weeks, and haste is of the utmost importance right now. Our best bet is to travel along the Mirror, but the town's Cloakers have gone feral, infected by some strange sickness that has turned them aggressive.
Anyways, this infection bears some interesting parallels to the Rot we've been fighting back home, so I convinced the others to investigate it further. This infection has a much more deadly end then the Rot, those who have finally succumbed to it bursting into flames. After talking to a couple of the mushrooms (very exciting!!!!!) I think that something deeper in the forest spread it to the area's Myconaid population, which in turn spread it to the mushrooms themselves. This is really only a theory though. We will be journeying deeper into the forest to find out more. Perhaps there is some sort of cure for this infection. If it is as similar to the Rot as I think it is, the information would do well to lifting my spirits.
It's times like these where I am reminded that the world is a fickle place, and I silently wish for the monotony of home. Maybe Hendricka was right, keeping me there. I've built it up so much in my head, that the letdowns just seem to disappoint me further.
That's it for now.
PS Reynard has come down with a terrible illness. We've left him at the tavern in town. I hope he gets better soon.
PPS I received a Sending from Ara earlier today. She mentioned that she couldn't get in contact with anyone from home, which doesn't bode well. She also said she might have found something, but she's thinks she's in a spot of trouble. I asked after her but haven't heard from her since. Maybe I should ask Inyanore for her help, I know she can cast that spell.
PPPS Speaking of Inyanore, we ran into some colleagues of hers from the Crux Fleet while going through the mushroom forest. They appear to be on the same quest we are. After speaking with them I have come to the conclusion that even outside of the Grove Elves are, with very few exceptions, absolute dicks.