When we arrived in Saltmarsh, we found it overtly allied with the bog ‘devils’. Averton spoke of the flypaper we’d seen coming into town, writhing stuff filled with bloatflies. Also he spoke of the fish taboo, that eating fish was against the sacred traditions of the bog devils — or something like that. I’m afraid they’d find me a menace to their society, as salted fish is all I’ve been consuming lately. I changed that at the, ah, banquet that night, having my first taste of bloatfly — the texture terrible, but otherwise, not bad — and a stew which turned out to be of human flesh. I did my best to hide my revolted nature, but alas, the pair of bog devils who dined with us were enflamed — at my actions, perhaps, I do not know — and stormed out.
We discussed the situation with Casp, as we had determined from various townsfolk heading in that something was amiss and that Casp was somehow beholden to the marshy fishmen. He would not give us details as to what kept him in their power, beyond the fact that they sought peace for the sake of otherwise not being wiped out, but would aid us — covertly. He threw us out of Saltmarsh under deceit, bruising poor Diego in the bargain, allowing us to operate on our own terms to wipe out the bog devil menace for good.
We ran into a troll along the way. Casual words, terrible circumstance. The mighty creature would have crushed us all, so we fled. I told Shara, poor Shara, that she should flee to Saltmarsh, for we were cut off from her by the unsightly beast, and called out to Oxtix for aid. What whimsy my god! For he brought her scent directly to it, and the beast lumbered after her as she fled for her life. What could we do but continue on, one fewer, and hope for the best for her fate?
We encountered a much less malignant creature in a break in the swamps, a spriggan which made its home there and turned the surrounding lands lush and vibrant forest instead. We camped there briefly only to find its incessant chatter intolerable, its offer of a thousand years in the fae world ridiculous to all but the most jaded ears, so we left it there after a brief spell. It did tell us there were dozens of creatures moving about beneath its feet, meaning our plan to wipe out the bog devils entirely already saw a great deal of peril.
We viewed a strange scene upon reaching the vicinity of the cove where the bog devils’ entrance resided; some scuffle had taken place, where there was a dead bog devil and a dead human, and also a dismembered arm. We passed it by and employed our burly if affable cleric Mooz to clear away the mud blocking off the door, and moved inside. Almost immediately we encountered the first of our prey bog devils, five of them guarding the entrance. Battle we joined at once.
I tried to employ some of my magic, but managed only a few weak puffs of choking smoke before turning to Diego and enlarging him with my spellwork. The ogre-sized man, along with the rest of the party, slew all five of the creatures, but half a dozen more poured in including a burly creature with a headdress. The battle turned ill in our favor, but we heard a whisper from somewhere, apparently to aid us… “Strike at the headdress!” Hernanthius nocked an arrow and let fly with superhuman strength, shattering the skull of the mighty bog devil and tearing the headdress from its head. Tottering, still alive, it chose to slit its own throat rather than continue where it had been so sullied and dishonored by the loss of its ornament.
Beaten, weakened, we stumbled into a white light that seemed to fill the room from a mundane portal beyond…