This place is bizarre, although I am actually happy to be here. Iomedae has certainly sent me to prove myself here, in order to prepare me for the fight against Strahd ahead. I’ve already slain two great evils, and I feel it in the marrow of my bones that more are coming. It’s even possible that the keeper of the Striding Fortress, Zassrion, is himself a dragon! Iomedae is guiding me to play the part of a fable’s hero, leading his companions in a daring rescue to save the princess in the tower, although I would hardly call Ashlyn a princess.
Nevertheless, things are looking up.
I’ve conquered the Ringmaster, a sly crocodile who attempted to con one of us into becoming his pet if we couldn’t catch him in a lie, but I caught him like a sitting duck there in his cage, and we made swift work of him. He melted into some strange goo, but that seems to be how these creatures pass.
We journeyed into forests thicker than stone, and happened upon a rabbit’s clearing, Brambleson, who challenged us to a duel. While he was quick as a rabbit, he fell right into my blade’s path each time he lunged at me. Strange fellow, but a good sport who parted ways with his token.
I haven’t let the Barrow King’s words extinguish this burning sense of purpose in me, despite there possibly being truth to his words. I am not a traitor, though. I am not of the dead, I am alive. My spirit shows this, as well as Her light shining brightly within. No, I deliver the dead from unrest, and deliver all that I meet from evil.
Ah, it isn’t that I’ve become full of myself, but that I’ve become full of Iomedae. These are merely trials in my path, and She seeks my display of strength and valor to prove worthy of Her.
It does help, however, that we’ve been rid of Tris, at least for the briefest of moments.
It is a good day.