Five Leagues from the BorderlandsThe last tomb was crawling with Grave Walkers. The Tower held a fey sorcerer; we lost Tring there, blasted by eldritch fire; Artum fell as we ran from the trolls of the deep woods, but for now, the village is safe. Tonight well restock the gear and recruit any travellers from the inn who fancy a share of the coin. Tomorrow well take the woods, then bring down that cursed tower for good. Maybe then we can rest, but there are already worrying rumours