I have been ignoring my journal, I’ve been too tired most nights to write anything down.
We’re come south pursuing the dwarf, looking for a hunting lodge he used. We’ve fought Kenku, and most recently an Owlbear.
It was unbelievably fast for something so big, this horrible beast combines the raw strength and power of the noble bear with the merciless hunting instincts of a bird of prey. Were it not for the fey powers of Cirindal I’m sure the beast would have torn me in two.
I suspect I would rather do battle with Giant-kin than face another such beast, for the thing held no fear of fire or weapons, only an endless blood-lust.
The creature stood some 12’ tall, and it’s claws could strike well beyond the reach of a man or elf with a sword. It’s thick fur and hide absorbed blows that would have sundered Plate armor, and it’s terrible screech was deafening at close range.
Altogether unpleasant and to be avoided in the future.
Most folklore regarding owls as omens of death can be trace back to these horrible fey beasts.
Recalling an entry in my masters copy of the “Blodeuwedd Wilds” I removed the fur and feathers from it’s right claw and dripped 4 drops of my blood on the paw. I then cast a magelight on the paw. The blood soaked into the hide and after a moment revealed a fey spell, which appears to be aspected to the winter court! I have copied the spell into my spellbook and find myself eager to test it’s efficacy.
I am worried that the more I use the destructive magics I’ve learned, the more I look forward to doing so again. Perhaps that’s what the dragonborn priest meant when he called me a slayer.