Diary Entry 42

After about a week or two of travel, I made it to the city-state of the Arachne, simply known as Istós. The Arachne prefer to name their works with simple plain names, unlike dwarves who prefer names to have a story behind it or gnomes who try to make the names of their works unique as possible, but I'm going off topic. A few minutes of asking around and I found out my party was at the local Asclepieion (that is what people of this country call a place of healing by the way), which wasn't a good sign.

Sadly my fears were well-founded, as I found them in the non-contiguous PLAGUE ward, well, Springer and Isa anyway, Hogan and Boreas were outside the room in protective gear like I was (Arachne shed urticating hairs worse than hellhounds and cocytus cats shed fur on the furniture). Joining my friends, I looked in and was distressed to find Isa and Springer significantly thinner than last I saw them. I asked Boreas what had happened, and he gave me the story.

The ruins they were exploring turned out to be haunted by a few dozen Aerica, which is what locals call the Plague Entities. My party was able to escape but not before Isa and Springer were infected by a particular nasty plague according to Boreas. At this point, we were interrupted as the specialist tending to Springer and Isa came out of the room and informed us that our party members were infected with Mbembe Pox, a rather nasty plague that causes the victim to waste away. "Unfortunately, there are only two ways to cure this, one is a rare plant endemic to the Saurian Jungles of the Earth Continent but we don't have any here, or the time to wait for some to arrive from the Earth Continent. The other..."

"Don't say it..." I begged.

"Is a dried Wizardbane Mushroom husk from Fun Guy's Island," he finished.

"I told you not to say it," I grumbled.

Now Hogan and I find ourselves on a boat sailing at full speed for Fun Guy's Island, while Boreas and my Leroy, stayed with our ill friends, besides, Boreas isn't built for anything warmer than a subtropical climate. During the trip I figured I might as well write about our island destination for those who have never heard of it.

Fun Guy's Island is one of the worst places to visit for a number of people. Located halfway between Talamh Aisling and the Continent of Earth , the island is covered by the Forest of Fun Guys, which is known as the most humid place on the planet. And I have to agree, I mean, on the island, any visitor to the island will acquire a case of athlete's foot, loincloth itch, and/or ringworm on day one guaranteed! On Day Four, the fungal infections will directly or indirectly lead to irreparable damage to the skin. But the humidity is not the worst part, at least if you use magic, as the entire island is a magic-free zone. You would think that nobody would want to live on such an island, much less visit but you would be wrong on both counts. The island is inhabited by a race intelligent mushrooms commonly called the Wizardbane Mushroom People (their name choice) and several tribes of humans (or a race resembling humans) known as the People Under the Shrooms as well as a group of monsters usually only found on the Continent of Earth. As for visitors, people come from all sorts of reasons, from researching wildlife to testing extreme survival gear, to actually practicing their survival skills.

Only a few weeks later, our boat had arrived at the lone dock at the south side of the island, I couldn't feel more relieved. I had forgotten that Hogan seems to think I am the party's official therapist or something. To be frank, Hogan has been depressed ever since last New Years, when his Love Fortune for the year read "Extremely Unlucky." So I ended up playing the listening bartender as Hogan complained about his love life. Apparently his new ex, (an archer) tried to shoot him through the heart. As I listened against my will about their doomed relationship, I had to grudgingly agree with Hogan, that ex of his definitely gave love a bad name.

We weren't the only visitors (on this side of the island anyway) as there was a small assortment of tents on the beach. Hogan and I had barely gotten off the boat and already the linen clothes we had changed into had started to become damp with sweat. We had about 72 hours to find the husk and get off the island before we had to go "native" like the chap who just left one of tents and is heading over to greet us. I will not go into details about his appearance other than to say he looked weather-beaten and a little thin, as for how he was handling the humidity, I can honestly say that I didn't see a scrap of damp clothing on him. *Is that delicate enough for you, Editor?*

"You're from Tirna, aren't you? Pardonne moi, I can tell from your accent, although I can't figure out if you are from the lowland or the highland part of Tirna." he said before introducing himself as Professor Forgeron from the Continent of Fire (I would say Flamber from his accent). As for my accent, my mother is a highlander while my dad is a lowlander, so my accent is a mixture of the two but no way was I going to tell him that, after all we just met. Wait, why am I straying off topic?

Apparently Forgeron and his team were on the island testing the ability of various metal alloys to endure humid saline environments or something, or something along those lines, hard to tell since he kept falling back into his native tongue. When we told them the reason for our presence, Forgeron was kind enough to have some of his people guide us to the current location of the nearest tribe of People Under the Shrooms (I refuse to use the acronym, even if they were the ones who chose their name in Common). However, even with a guide, we would have to travel for a few days while avoiding a mysterious classification of monster that is only found on this island and the Continent of Earth which intrigued me to be honest. Fine, I will admit it, this is my first time here, all the information I have is secondhand from my old man who came here several times on (unsuccessful) diplomatic missions, that is, until he brought my mother along on his last trip. Not only did he have to sleep in the stables for a whole year, but the King of Tirna was unable to find any other qualified member of the court who was allowed to replace him (especially after my mother had a meeting with the ladies of the court) and so diplomatic relations with the inhabitants of Fun Guy's Island ceased.

The guides were a couple of Emberwall Hares, which I found interesting since the kingdoms of Emberwall and Flamber are, for lack of a better word, rivals. Emberwall Hares are hare Beastmen, famous for their military prowess and tracking skills, although that it is sometimes overlooked for their possibly more famous bottomless stomachs.

Almost every Emberwall Hare you meet is, or was, a member of Emberwall's famous Long Ear Patrol, an army that guards the country's borders from pillaging and raiding. Having them guide us through the Forest would be of tremendous help (since woodcraft is one of the basic requirements of the Long Ear Patrol according to my father), that is, if we can keep them out of our food supplies.

After the a few hours of trekking and rain showers, we still haven't encountered any People Under the Shrooms or the mysterious wildlife when we decided to break for camp. Our guides said that we should meet up with the natives sometime tomorrow though.

{No, I don't sound disappointed, how can I can I even sound disappointed on paper? Actually don't answer that. Wait, why are you reading over my shoulder, Hogan? And why am I writing what I am saying!?}

After we had set up camp and got a fire going, our guides (after a quick bribe of food) proceeded to tell us about the ba dinosaures, the monsters that can only be found here and the Continent of Earth. The ba dinosaures vary in shape, size, and demeanor, but usually they leave people alone, although there are two that we must watch out for. The Mino ya makasi oyo ezali na mabɔkɔ mikemike, or Tiny-Armed Sharp Teeth, a huge, almost -sized, lizard-like monster that can swallow a man whole and is known to be quite territorial. However we are more likely to encounter the Griffes ya Sickle oyo ezali na nsala, or Feathered Sickle Claws according to our guides. The Feathered Sickle Claw, although no bigger than a human, is a pack hunter, and an intelligent one at that. Our guides proceeded to tell us stories about ambushes of the Feathered Sickle Claws wiping out entire parties, some of them while they slept. Both Hogan and I chuckled nervously when they finished as we laid down to sleep until our watch, I mean nothing can be that terrible, right?