Aramis Entry 22
[21 March, 103 CY continued]
Brother Perceval once told me that, early in his adventuring days, lizardfolk ambushed his party’s camp, chewing both arms and a leg off a paladin who got caught without his armor. Whether that tale is true or not, I’ve been wary of lizardfolk ever since – and now, having fought them, that paranoia seems justified.
There were three in the first group, two with green scales and a massive, black-scaled brute. As Fate would have it, they were no match for us.
We soon came across an old skeleton in rusted mail amidst a patch of mold and mushrooms. Bhavik decided that he wanted the skeleton’s adamantine greataxe, and I did not argue. The dead deserve their peace, surely, but the most orthodox interpretation of my faith’s dogma is that only a properly consecrated grave is inviolable. A man who died in a patch of fungi need not receive the same respect. Yes, it’s splitting hairs, but we have no time to argue, and the axe will surely be more useful in Bhavik’s hands than here.
As the spores were deadly, Bhavik used a rope to drag the skeleton out of the chamber, claiming the axe once he’d cleansed it in the underground stream. The weapon bears the mark of Durgeddin the Black! After obtaining a gleaming silver helmet from another skeleton in the same manner, we moved on.
A vast cavern led to a smaller chamber lined with dwarven sepulchers. Azal looked to me hopefully, but I shook my head – these are the hallowed dead, and not to be disturbed. She conceded to my wishes, proving that friendship is stronger than avarice. Some friendships, anyway.
Soon after, a second group of lizardfolk ambushed us with clubs and poisoned darts. The ambush, the poison, and the terrain made for a more difficult fight, but we still prevailed. The door on the south wall beckons.
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