Angry Mama's and Camp Dred.

I forgot my sketch book on these two remarkable hunts and will recount the details through my mastery of the written word.

It was a early morning and the soft waves of Melebrion's isle became attacked by a small fleet of vessels from the Puddleby isle. We landed on the sweet sand and engaged the local wendy population with technical combat. The beach was cleared and we entered the passes (aka- the narrows).

Here, wave after wave of elder wendy's tossed heavy and sharp chucks of limestones upon our bodies. We are strong though and me, I did what I always do, I thoomed. We killed swiftly and gracefully. Further on we pressed. Young sasquatch and two angry mothers! The feast of tsrrin produced many fine ape species. The victory was ours and the day was o' so young...

Distress I sensed from the worn stone in my hand. It has seen many thoughts and throughout the countless wars and battles has earned a ripture on the surface the length of a whisker. The sunstone remains fragile yet dependable. I place it in my pack and enter into the portal. My body tingles as my person and mind are transported to Camp Dred. I land hard and injure a knee. I am healed. I enter with the team. Instantly red lightning cracks through the humid air and one of us is down. Large Death Vermine surround us, summoned by their master the Orga Hatred.

The Hatred has a dark eye that knows only death and murder. He guards a fallen and we engage. Blood spatters and bones crack. We retreat. Again we press on and take out the other weak orga. The Hatred, he is strong. We weaken him and then kill. Healers cannot heal exhaustion though, nor the mental capacity of the team. We rescue our fallen exiles and clear the surrounding area for awhile. Hopeless. We retreat into the safety of our small town. We survived, it was a success. The victory was ours and the day was o' so old...

-Thoom!