Muguet's Journal

Muguet's Journal is the notebook of the herbalist Muguet, located within his hut on the edge of the Bristlebacks.

## Description

Known to the residents of the area as a skilled herbalist with talents for creating all manner of herbal and alchemical substances, Muguet was a dryadborne druid that lived a relatively insular life, accompanied only by a trio of Fangor Goats. After discovering blooms of Esuridell across the mountains he called home, he was eventually slain by his goats, in which state he and his journal were discovered by adventurers from Amber Run.

Contained with the pages, pressed and dried, was a *Luckleaf* with five leaves.

## Reading

### Completed by Ashewan Norvegicus

[...*"it has been a difficult few years, for certain, but things seem to be looking up now. The howls in the night are natural now, as was intended. The call of beasts on the hunt, longing for and after each other, the sounds of the world, and the world before, as the Lord created. I count myself fortunate that it was only the once that the gnolls came this way, and even then I managed to lead them away on a wild goose chase - or rather, a wild blackcross mink chase I suppose. The goats are calmer too, well by Fangor standards. Didn't immediately take a dislike to the few Silvertowers that stopped by on a supply run down the river to Amber Run, though I've made sure to reinforce the pen a little more anyway, high enough too so that even Glug can't just leap out like she managed last time. I've explained to her again and again why the pen is there, even added the few additions that she, Cafy and Ynuli were after, but she is predictably stubborn. I've still let them roam through the house from time to time while I'm working like we used to when those foul things roamed more freely, though they'll go for my dinner if I let them, so I remain cautious to making a habit of it. Nonetheless, now it is just bears and lions that we need be wary of"*...]

[...*"I've never found myself so busy, aha! The Lord-General continues to send more and more Silvertowers this way, by river and foot alike, to ensure the lands are not secede back to the gnolls should they make a counterattack. The folks that I've spoken to seem to come from all kind of trades, carpenters, masons, smiths, both those working with the mundane and the magical. In truth, I've since taken down the sign out front after a recent incident with someone stumbling off the path and damaging the blooms of Liver Vetch and Wartle. Now, I just carry a small basket with me as I go, and if I happen to meet someone on the way, or they sail by as I'm collecting Frogfoot then we can barter a bit back and forth then. Though, as much as I complain, there is something reassuring about seeing the flash of those shimmering breastplates from time to time on my travels, even this far north from Hobs' Fall and Chalimar. The Bristlebacks are wild and untamed, and now perhaps with Silvertowers scattered throughout it can be a place for safe adventure for all to love and respect as I have come to do so. Now, come morning, there is a burning need to resupply on a few things"*...]

[...*"it is quite unlike anything that I've seen really, and admit that I find it curious in the most unsettling of ways. I thought it was a type of Blight Yarrow at first - a fine find indeed - given the small buds at its crest, by the colouration was all wrong, and, well the rest of it too. The stem was twisted, covered in jagged thorns that I don't doubt would be quick to draw blood, the flowers like fanged teeth. Stubborn against the idea of producing fruit though, and when I tried to reach out to the plant itself, I found myself withdrawing near immediately, the curdling cries all the reply I found. It was dotted throughout the mountains, sometimes remote, sometimes brazenly in the open. Come the morning I'll make for Hobs' Fall, and then perhaps there to Chalimar - the herbalists within the city may be able to offer me guidance for once"*...]