Journal #7 - The Applewood

The coven-mother described the Applewood as the stomach of the Aymhelin, where things go to be digested. Our experience wasn’t far off. During the first leg of our journey, we were beset upon by an abomination the likes of which we’d never seen before, surprising us out of the brush. It had eyeballs in its jaw, which was the last bit of face it had left. It spewed acid like a burst pipe, which nearly killed me, and struck at us with limbs emerging from places unknown. I was coated in acid, and had to wretch on the ground like a worm to wipe it off. I was not sad to see it die; it was an unholy creature, and I wasn’t surprised when Ghiravont’s radiance weakened it.
 
Speaking of “unholy” and “Ghiravont” in the same sentence, as we traveled on, a most unfortunate truth came to light. Lug and I saw a ghost of the stag which we noticed weeks before on our way to Tamalir. It sharply reminded me of what befell upon us after, when we came to The Tree in Forge. I thought maybe this stag, skeletal and evil now, was an omen of what lay ahead. I had to know! Lug and I charged towards it but it ran away into the thick forest. It submerged itself into a deep pond, and Lug went after it, changing into a reptile. I tried to wrestle him, and get him to flee with me – an omen of death going where we cannot breath, surely that is insane. He refused, so I fled on my own.
 
Deeper into the forest I ran, eventually overcome by our guide, Tanis. The rest of the party seemingly caught up, as Domino calmed my mind, soothing me. The Applewood had no more fears for me it seemed…except those that we brought with us.
 
Ghiravont was trying to save Lug whilst the others saved me, and when we came across Lug and the pond, there was a wolf in his armor. A giant werewolf. It was attacking Lug, and eventually it bit him, before running off into the night. The moon was full… It seems, unbeknownst to me or many others, Ghiravont had been infected with lycanthropy for some time. Now, Lug was too. Tanis went after him, tracking him so as to be able to reunite him with us come the morning, when he would once again have control of his faculties. The rest of us journeyed to the shelf, finally, and rested.
 
The next morning we met with Ghiravont and Tanis. I had been keeping his rapier for him, which had been dropped on the ground when he lost his opposable thumbs it seems. I returned it, hesitantly. My first priority is my soul of course, which at the time of writing this I have a mere three full days to ensure does not fall into the hands of the coven. No time for judging those who can help me; but after, this Warden owes an explanation, and treatment. Lycanthropy is no laughing matter, so I’ve heard.
 
We pressed on, no rest for the wicked. On this fourth day of our journey we made it into the mountains. Unlike before, we made special plans to move as quietly as possible, and avoid any monstrous wildlife. We pass around a craig in the mountains, and as the sun sets we saw trees on the top of the valley, with roots digging in deep. The roots wrap around bones set into the wall – corpses of dwarves in armor holding rusted swords, forever held up by the tree roots embedded in stone. They seem to be from an age long past. As we turned the corner, things changed.
 
Suddenly, the size of the roots changed. On this side, they were ten times as large, with giant spiderwebs encasing the craig. It was a spider’s lair surely, and our path led straight through.
 
Domino elected to scout ahead with Tanis, while the rest of us made camp here. There was concern that even the slightest touch to the web would send vibrations to the nest and spell our doom. We spent all day there, and heard back via Domino’s magical communication that she had met an interesting creature, an ancient spider-woman called Arasta. Apparently this woman had been imprisoned here. I’m unsure of the details, but Domino obtained safe passage for us and told us to march quickly through to her while she and Tanis rested. I wonder what she promised…