We made it to the lake. Near the shore was what remains of a temple, whatever that claimed it before was either taken down or swept away by erosion. Either or, its former holy grounds were being desecrated by unwelcomed squatters. Skum and Boggards without any doubt have infested the ruins. We moved stealthily, or tried to when Tatheria chose the worst possible time to be clumsy and blows our cover completely.

Immediately we engaged, with numbers on our side we were able to take down two without any sweat and fortunate enough to net the mage, putting him under our mercy. Of course, I wanted to break his arms to prevent him from casting and while Stelhen was all for it, Lucien, Gods bless him, reminded me about being humane towards our surrendered foe. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand the value of life. But these Skum- They hold little to no respect to other life save for their masters. Absolute sadists and savages that only hold contempt towards both the Gillman and those unfortunate to fall under their captive.

As soon as he slurred my kind, I clocked him in the face without hesitation. We weren’t getting anywhere with bastard, be it threats and otherwise. So we gave his body to Grimm to prepare and feast on. Frightening, for a Goblin his appetite is endless as only the sod’s bones were left in the open during the morning.

We rested again, waiting for more of the scrubs to show. It didn’t take too long, six more swam out of the lake and begin pondering about for their slain sentries. Again, we tried the stealth approach and failed a second time to surprise them. More shouts and blood occurred, but we earned our victory twice, albeit one of blaggards fell back into the lake screaming.

So with that we’re preparing to explore the water’s depths. Everyone’s getting prepped with waterbreathing potions and piercing weapons. But in accordance with one of my companions, I am following his lead and leaving my journal topside as well. But not without a failsafe, though.

So, my good reader. Depending on the date written on this entry. I am either dead, still exploring, or trapped. Should mold be any indication on these pages, then the best guess that the former was my fate.

Give this dead man a last request and return my journal to a lass back in Angelwharf. I guarantee you cannot miss her. She’ll be a Freckle-faced redhead with misshapen ears and a thin scar going across her nose. More specifics will be that she’s housed with both a wiry Gnome and a nervous child.

Just please be sure to tell Motley that Largo had always fancied her from afar, but wished that I’d would’ve told her sooner about how I felt for her before my death.