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Seighell/Joffrey's Diary/Session 2.md
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22/02/2025 - *Oh hi, Mark!*
22/02/2025 - ***Oh hi, Mark!***
Squelch “Wielder of the Whack-Splat” was a small and particularly ugly beast, green of skin, long of nose, possessor of several shinies; all things goblins usually aspire to. More so, he was a respected hero of the tribe, member of a prominent family, and he’d recently inherited the honour of wielding said family’s magical war hammer “Whack-Splat” (hence his title). Upon first grasping this potent contrivance of wood and gemstone, he felt his body surge with power, he was harder, better, faster and stronger. He’d found himself in a new nest within underground ruins, in a cave system beneath the Qumdrop Swamp.
[[Squelch]] “Wielder of the Whack-Splat” was a small and particularly ugly beast, green of skin, long of nose, possessor of several shinies; all things goblins usually aspire to. More so, he was a respected hero of the tribe, member of a prominent family, and he’d recently inherited the honour of wielding said family’s magical war hammer “Whack-Splat” (hence his title). Upon first grasping this potent contrivance of wood and gemstone, he felt his body surge with power, he was harder, better, faster and stronger. He’d found himself in a new nest within underground ruins, in a cave system beneath the Qumdrop Swamp.
The change of scenery was eagerly anticipated as his chieftain had promised them he’d been in negotiations with a new god that they could worship within this very cave network. Until recently, his clan had made their home in a mountain range, in a cave at the base of Steep Run, greatest among equals of the peaks. Steep Run was a talon grazing the heavens, capped with snow, banded with trees and characteristically, steep.
The previous occupants of the ruins had been found slaughtered when they arrived, a band of kobolds that seemed to have been felled mercilessly to a one.

Shortly after their arrival in this new land, the two bugbears that originally directed their tribe had been mysteriously killed, their bodies strangely melted, but seemingly not burned. No matter, this was obviously their new god-queen’s will and it should not be questioned. Squelch was approached one day by the Chieftain and given a sacred task from the queen herself, to acquire new “subjects” from the nearby town and return them to her, alive, for her to have words with; This should be completed as quickly as possible or risk earning her disfavour. Packing his bags with rope, manacles, nets and all manner of other supplies, he set out through the swamp and then started the long trek up the Outlet, across the salt flats, towards reality.

Arriving on the border of the town, he came across a strange old man sitting on a rock, with eyes closed, lost in meditation. A large bird was perched on either of his shoulders; sizing him up, Squelch deemed this wizened old prune disinteresting and moved on.