Blade Maidens: Strays – 3

“Salut[the rest of the word is crossed out]

Greet[the rest of the word is illegible, also crossed out]

Hey, Rowan.

Don’t know if you’ll even remember asking me to do this. That antivenom knocked you on your ass pretty good. I don’t know if this will be worth reading, but…I do know these things are important to you and who knows how much you’re gonna remember tomorrow.

Do you start at the beginning? I don’t know how much you covered. I didn’t want to read anything. Not my business. So. Yeah. Sorry if you already got this part down.

Usually, we have to hunt the bounties down, but this one came right to us. That knight stopped us on the road, looking for sellswords. I still don’t love him taking credit for it, but I kept my mouth shut for that payday. Most knights I’ve met are like him, all shiny armor and clean tabard and nothing to back it up. Anyways, it was the chimera. His lord wanted it dead. He didn’t want to die in the process.

You were about as excited as I’ve ever seen you. I can’t believe you were still mad about the ogre thing. Some monster having two heads isn’t “fascinating.” It just means twice the chances of you getting bitten. Which you now know, I guess. Glad you’re okay, by the way. I was w[next sentence is crossed out].

We tracked it to that hollow by the river. I thought I could handle it, but it’s been a few years, and that fucker was way bigger than the last one I fought. Don’t know if we would’ve pulled through if you hadn’t pulled that trick with the whirlwind. It didn’t stop you from getting hurt, but it probably saved our lives. That’s good work, Ro.

I sucked out the venom best I could–which DOES work–but you had already started going through one of your books. How in the Abyss did you have a book with an anatomical drawing of a chimera in it anyways? You read that for FUN?

I cut out the venom gland, you were able to brew up the antidote before you passed out, and now we’re here. You woke up a while ago mumbling something about a dog. You had a dog? You didn’t tell me that. I love dogs. I fed you some broth, and you’ve been snoring ever since. We’re due to meet that prick tomorrow. You can use the walking stick I’m whittling for you if you’re well enough. If not, you’re getting carried. And you better not fucking complain about it. Maybe I’ll carry you anyways, try and get some extra sympathy coin out of him.

Anyways. Yeah. That’s about it. You’re probably going to just rip this one out cause I’m sure it’s shit compared to whatever you put in here. But, hey, I kept my promise.

Always do.”

– Rowan’s Journal, entry dated 28 Snowsong 877