From the writings of Parker Hale:
“…and just like that we’re off to the great wild mountains, home to lawless orcs, ferocious winged lizards, and the biting cold. Not so much as a ‘Hale, pack a cloak’ from those non-unctuous orcish brothers I travel with. Fine fellows, all of them, except for an accident of birth.
We traveled North through time and space, spending a vast sum of money to be spirited hundreds of miles through the ether, only to wind up on a freezing, jagged mountain face. To make matters even MORE inconvenient, that elf who calls himself a woodsman (in all fairness, he never said mountaineer) selected a cave that held flesh-hungry giants!!! Even duller and more impulsive than most of giant-kind,they fell before us quickly. Here we sit, riding out this storm before traveling to a hive of orcs. In light of this destination, I’ve begun learning Orc. It’s curious, how their language mixes greetings with terms of anatomy and human swear words."
several entries later
“…the Glass Peak; substantially out of the way and filled with hordes of undead. You’d think if eternal, ever wise dragons were going to run roughshod over this stretch of the world, they’d have the common decency to keep things peaceful. Especially if the area in question is one that can be turned to high magic! Heaps of bones, necrotic monsters, and a wicked blue Tusker who had made a pact with the dead. And his giant spider. I spent the engagement hacking my way to the lesser priests, determined to end the lives of at least a few guilty of heresy; the raising of the dead is a crime against the natural order of things. Surprisingly, the rest of my companions agree whole-heartedly. I’m glad we can march in step to that tune, at least.
After a brief rest, we got down to the business of fiddling with high magic again (as if the dwarf REALLY has any interest in it), and tracked that spider-riding bastard to his lair. The drag marks left by the table-sized chunk of Glass Peak made it easy on us. My hatred of endless marching has grown to be as pure as the driven snow, might I add.
The ensuing fight was both hair-raising and just another example of the general ineptitude of this “villain” we face. I will admit that prior experience with this “Murtug” (a horrible name, all consonants just hunting on awkward vowels)should have been enough to finish him. I only wish he’d been dispatched after we drove off his minions, possibly killing him in a moment of weakness. But no, the brothers took Wilford and placed themselves in grave danger, fighting him while exhausted. Another day, I suppose."
(Begin new entry)
“Hmph….we shall have to properly manage this Gahn’s impulsivity, or he’s going to be the death of us. For all their faults, this brood of orcs seems a shade different; they count a human, dwarf, and reptile man among their peers.”