Finished the well two days ago. Heard the trickle of water where I dug. Strung the bucket, hauled it up, saw the sweet essence of life filling it to the brim. Fireplace is built, but only half a chimney. Built walls around it. No higher than my head, but it’s a start. Still have my tent. Set it up near the chimney, built a roaring fire. Me, the fire, the foundations of four walls, the stars still above. A good day.
Looked south, through what will soon be the door, to the plains below. In the far distance, a flat haze of blue. The sea. Gloomhaven. Packed a small bag first thing in the morning, made the trip without a destination in mind. Found myself drinking a pint. The Sleeping Lion. Should have known.
Door flew open. Cracked the wood a little. Mary Sue strode in. Quiet as a cat in a fight. Loud as an Inox in a tavern. “Well, the gods have abandoned Gloomhaven, and yet still see fit the curse me with your lumbering ass. Welcome back, ya giant hunk of rock.” A true master of the spoken word.
A second round already on the table. A third. A… sixth? Seventh? Ninth? Shit. Soon, a traditional telling of exploits. Of course Jerkserah is duplicitous. Of course she’s a necromancer. Of course Mary Sue is going after her. Would rob a man on the highway in the morning, end the reign of an oppressive overlord in the afternoon. As much knight as rogue. Delighted to fill both roles in the span of a single thought.
Her companion is… disconcerting. A Vermling. Evolved rat. A bear follows it. As if bound to the same mind. Bloodshot and bloodlust in his eyes. Seen this before. “Teachers” of the Savvas. Leaders. Generals. They are all vainglory. Nothing of the knight. Do not trust him or the soul-bounded bear he calls Hunger. I am a mountain of rock, yet that thing scares me. Mary Sue will be fine. Be surprised if even a bear is faster than those knives.
This morning, through the hangover, had an idea. Jerkserah is lost to the wind. But we have a talented friend. Went to the Crooked Bone. Hail’s decaying bar. Laboratory. Hideout. Yelled at us for “changing the flow of the ether.” Seems right. Said she could scry the Valroth’s location. Brought us a map, still covered in acrid biteroot paste. Said it “added character” to the map. Just added stickiness to my fingers. Did show where Jerkserah is hiding, though. Mary Sue took it without hesitation.
Considered going with them. Decided against it. This isn’t my life now. Doubt the Valroth can contend with Mary Sue’s knives. Or wits. Or the giant angry bear.
I have a roof to build.
–Balboa
Journeys through Gloomhaven 