Borin's Crazed Scribbles

I find myself standing in the street surrounded by unfamiliar companions heading into the wilderness and I only know this is dangerous. I was out there once, this much I do remember! So much death at “my” folly, I feel a gaping hole where I used to have … faith?… I cannae be sure…

There’s something familiar about **Solumn**, like looking in a distorted mirror or something. He seems assured where I only have questions though… **Shane**’s divine presence warms me somehow, I feel “safe” in his company. The thoughtful **Lippy** confuses me. Somewhere in the back of my mind sits an uncomfortable feeling around his kind and yet he seems a friendly (and capable) fellow! A similar feeling hangs for the goblin **Plygonk** - is there history between our races that eludes my mind? Maybe I’m distracted by the energetic halfling troublemakers? **Trym** and **Elphim** both seem full of vigour and confidence - I can’t shake the vision of another halfling in my mind when I look at them. A halfling with a pet almiraj? That can’t be right…what’s wrong with me??

Ambushed from the fog. I’m told that Scaleshrikes are dangerous foes and they certainly seemed that way at first before we mastered our confusion and rallied together. I say we but in truth, I added little. My instincts seem intact at least as I seemed to recall strange intonations but their power seemed much less effective than some of my new(?) companions as the halflings in particular carved these beasts apart.

Entering the “dungeon” triggers nothing but **Trym** seems to refer to me as Boris… is that my name? Why does “Borin” seem familiar to me? While I contemplate this, there is bedlam… Several of the party headed off down an underground tunnel revealed by Lippy falling down a hole, meanwhile Shane had fallen down an entirely different hole! As I went to help Shane, it seemed the impetuous **Elphim** and **Plygonk** apparently pushed on and opened a strange room with some sort of snake/statue guardian. I will confess that I don’t know much of what happened as I am relying on the details from those involved! While **Shane** and I hurried to catch up, there seems to have been some sort of minotaur attack that killed poor **Plygonk**. While I am sad at his death, my mind drifts towards the vision of a minotaur of “great fame”… but he is cloudy in my mind’s eye.

Regrouping, we are joined by the child **Aragorn**… Gods know where he came from but he seems a mixture of scared and over-confident. His sudden appearance and childlike stature conjure up immediate thoughts of a little girl… my mind is scrambled!

Investigating the complex further, we find a secret door and a few kobold zombies to dispatch. They are simple enough to dispatch but their (somewhat) catlike movements evoke yet more clouded memories. A giant tiger springs into my thoughts before vanishing as quickly as **Lippy**’s glove sticks to the door we find… poor fool somehow managed to then stick his boots to the same door trying to free his glove - before he just took off the glove… the same sticky substance seems to coat the floor so we set to work building a path out of rubble. There’s so much gold in the chest. It shines like the morning sun and my mind is assaulted as I look at it…

Lathander! The name springs into focus in my mind as **Shane** collapses under the weight of blows from a Flesh Reaver we uncovered behind the secret door. Healing magic from **Solumn** to get **Shane** back on his feet - it feels comforting to me and I have another vision of a bald dwarf firing devastating guiding bolts - I follow **Solumn**’s action with my own healing for **Shane**. It feels so natural.

The great tomb holds a ghast. It’s shadowy presence triggers memories of a one-eyed female warrior of exceptional bravery from a shadowy realm but the memory fades as swiftly as the party disposes of the ghast itself.

Memories flicker but one thing is clearer… Ahm nae Boris… Ahm Borin and the light o’tha morning lord will heal these lands…