In my attempts to help out the citizenry of New Britannia, I took it upon myself to take up Bridget’s quest and go look for the missing Veimor. It sounded like a grim task since Bodan mentioned he went missing during a wolf attack and only a quiver of arrows was recovered. It’s wasn’t much to go on, but I set off to see if I could find his trail. Danish and I were hot on the scent!

Turns out he’s holed up in West Ravenswood. I’m not sure what he’s doing out in these parts, but he seemed to be in good health and spirits albeit rather lazy since he just stood around as the wolves attacked me. For a famed hunter he wasn’t quick to jump into the action.

Nevertheless, we had a quick chat wherein I let him know his wife was anxiously awaiting news of him and better yet his return. He said he had some work left to do and would be home shortly. Ok, well, sure, I’ll let the Mrs know I found you and you can do whatever you like. If you want to hang out here in a tent with the wolves rather than be at home with your wife who am I to judge?

My conversation was cut rather short as I was preyed upon by a Stag who came at me with fire in his eyes and antlers bared for combat. He lunged at me with ferocity, with certain intent to run me through. And not just once, he savagely pierced me once, then reared back and went for another go. I normally leave the Stags alone as they are majestic and timid creatures, but this rascal was just itching for a fight. So a fight he got!

I had no choice but to defend myself and although those antlers are a force to be reckoned with, my blade is no pillow of feathers. I may swing it like an off balance basket of fruit, but I make contact there will be hell to pay!

But as soon as one Stag was done, another decided to have a run at me! It was my intent to conclude business with Veimor and head back to Braemar, but these Stags were ready to rumble. Are they eating some bad Nightshade which makes them angry and aggressive?

True to form, Veimor simply stood to the side idly wandering back and forth muttering to himself while the fur covered bodies piled up around us. This left me with no choice but to take all their hides and mark my words, I’m turning that Stag into an ornament and placing him over my door! And just because you attacked me first, I’m going to make it my goal to find as many of you as I can and turn you into gloves! It’s on Mother Flynn!

With the Stags dealt with and news of Veimor, I went back to Braemar and let Bridget know. She was quite relieved and began making preparations for her husband’s return. Don’t hold your breath honey!

One good deed done, one more to go. And with that I spoke with Myra in Owl’s Head and made my way to The Clink. I took the back passage down and found Myron locked in a cage. He was being guarded by two large bears which seemed incredibly odd to me. Are we not using guards to watch over the prisoners? When did bears get pressed into service as watchmen?

No matter! I was on the verge of saving Myron when he tossed his token of salvation down the drain. I’ve had enough of you Myron! You can rot down here! You are your lot making your families sick with worry while you just lollygag around! No more! I’m outta here! And you know what? It smells like bear poop in here! Good luck with that!

I snuck back out the way I came and let Myra know her brother wasn’t really a coward, but he was a jackass who chose to stay in prison rather than make an escape with me. I tried my best, but I can’t lead a horse to cheese and make him drink. This town is just nutty, I’m going home! I may be an idiot, but indeed I am no fool!

There has to be more sane people out there I can help. Maybe that guy in Soltown with the key and the farm could use a bit of assistance. He seemed like he was on the level.


All right Veimor it’s time to go home. I’m not throwing accusations out there or anything, but that Skills Trainer seems to be spending an awful lot of time right next to your house while you’re away. I’m pretty sure I saw Halmar, peeping in the window while he was on his rounds. We all know he has a wandering eye.


Gadzooks! What the devil is wrong with this Stag? Those antlers could cause some serious sternum crushing damage!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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