A group of intrepid adventurers and colonists embarks on a trip to a new and uncharted land. Exploration, hardship, and treasure await all who enter the Untamed Wilds.

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Fangs and fangs
Did not know what to expect this time around; figured I would have to catch most of my food so we dont gnaw through everything we bring to these starving, snow people. I haven't seen snow in such a long time, I had almost forgotten how unforgiving and barren it is.

Fought beside a couple of new people; that loud mouth, but pretty charismatic, Archibald. Along with that rogue who seems to disagree with everybody, Thian? Thien? Ehh I'll worry about the spelling of his name later. Those two held their own and then some in battle but that poor Rogue fell during our final battle with White Fury, close one for him. I'm glad we all got out with our limbs and gullets; those wolves were bigger than usual. This place is strange, harboring beasts of that nature; I welcome and shudder the thought of fighting ones much like it.

The druid led the expedition pretty well, we didn't wonder half the time and we got to complete the mission and then some. We have another emissary and a part of me feels a glow for bringing liberation to the starving people of Fort Whick. I hope next week we will be able to accomplish the same thing past the avalanche. My people better come correct.
Session: Session 7 - The White Mountains of Irondell - Sunday, Sep 17 2017 from 7:00 PM to 1:00 AM
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Epic!
Liberation
I cannot emphasize enugh how sucessful this past journey was. The stars were aligned and The Lord paved our way into the icy regin of Irondell. Noland is an odd fellow, but I will follow him into any peril after how he lead said expedition. We had a set goal, the proper personel for the job, and the favor of the Almighty. We were able to discover much treasure, a new settlement of allies, an eager emissary to come live with us, and even a wandering wizard named Rimington who desires to join on our quests.

I knew going forword that carrying the cart with a weeks worth of food would be a dicey endever, but it was necessery. Noland's preperations were calculated and precise on every account as we never went hungry even once we entered the mountains. We did not, however, receive a warm welcome at the mountain pass. Instead, we were met with the bone-chilling howls of Dire Wolves. At the top of a guard tower, Velen claimed to have spotted a Great White Wolf. We knew we were in for it, but as a team, we were nothing but effishent. Getting the cart up the mountain grades was an arduos task, but it was nothing Noland couldn't handle in his great dire wolf form. The wizard even proved himself quite useful by using his augmentashun magic to make Wolf Noland even more massive. The few dire wolves that resisted our laborius climb up the cliffs met their end to Thain's blade and Velen's arrows. I don't know how he shoots so true with only one eye, but I was very impressed. It could've been quicker, but we got through nearly unscathed. The dens the wolves had claimed among the ruins of the watchtower contained treasure too! Thain found himself a shiny new rapier and a pile of gold which we loaded into the cart to bring back to town. But thoughts of home were far from our mind as we continued our trek through the snow.

Strangely, the weather cleared up after our battle with the ravenus wolves and came upon an open tundra. Across the range, we spotted a looming fort built into the mountains. It was a sight to behold, but there was an uneasy feeling on the crisp air. Thain pocketed Noland as a rat and scouted ahead. We waited about a half mile behind for a signal from Thain and approached when he gave it. A man let us into the gate and we met over a dozen hungry people. PEOPLE! We had finally found other civilized humans in the wretched wilderness, but they were none-too-well-off. They had been starving for months on end and living in fear of the very wolves we encountered. I spoke with their leader, a one Lord Greyford Wick who is the owner of Fort Wick coincidentully. He tried to offer us something in return for the food we brought them, but they had little to offer so we simply made a trade agreement with them. We will send them food to sustain themselves for any building material they could scrap together. In addition, I asked for an emissary to live in Shitton with us if we dealt with the rest of the wolves. I did not think it would be difficult to find the beasts seeing as they found us first. Lord Wick graciusly accepted and we went on our merry way to hunt what they fearfuly called "The White Fury."

We followed their directions to a destroyed hamlet called Kradesh or something of the sort. Nothing was left. All were dead. From a vantage point, Thain was able to spot caves near the edge of the ruined town. Noland made the call and we descended into the valley. Nothing moved as we searched the town. We found very little, but I spotted Thain pocketing some gold he sniffed out. No matter, he can keep his worldly luxuries, but I fear he jeapordizes his salvation when the time comes. As a group we decided it would be best to lure the wolves out of their dens and face them with fire. We piled what was left of the town and set it alight in a few scattered pyres and waited as night fell.

The alpha stepped out first as a true leader and the air around us turned to ice. All we could see at first were two terrifying frozen eyes that pierced the night. Then more and more wolves stepped forward with blazing red eyes with the lust of death apparent on them. White Fury immediatley jumped forward to Noland in a challenging stance with such speed and ferocity like I had never seen before. I feared for Noland's life, but he did not waver. He transformed into an immense bear and Rimington immediately made him a colossal monster of a grizzly. The battle was epic. Thain struck left and right only to be struck down by an enraged wolf. As he bled, Velen fired arrows at a speed I've never beheld. And Noland fought with the ferocity of ten bears. I channeled the light from the stars above us to bring Thain back to his feet and we quickly dispatched wolf after wolf until only the alpha remained. I fearlessly gazed into the great white devil's eyes across a blazing pyre and let fly my trusty hatchet. I struck him above his eyes and blood trickled into his azure eyes. Thain leaped around the blaze, striking the beast across the snout and driving his other blade deep into its throat. The wolf died atop the graves of all he had massacered, a fitting end for the monstrosity.
Noland and Velen assisted Thain in tanning the beast for it's pelt so he could wear it as a trophy. We found much more gold and a greataxe within the wolf dens. And armor. Chain mail in particular which will come in quite useful for me.

Upon returning to Fort Wick with our trophy atop Thain's head, we were met with rejoicing people and an eager guard named Bryan to come with us back to Shitton. With much joy, Lord Wick gave us much more information about surrounding regions and places to explore. He did not know many details about the Veldt to the east, the coast to the west, or Stonehollow to the south, but just knowing where to go next will be incredibly helpful going forward unto new horizons.

Dr. Archibald Thornton, M.D.
Session: Session 7 - The White Mountains of Irondell - Sunday, Sep 17 2017 from 7:00 PM to 1:00 AM
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Epic × 2!
Indifference. Justice.
Yeah. Our town is called Schitton now. A playful pun at best, a spit shit in the face of anyone who truly cares for this town at worst. Fate seems to have decided the name for us, as we couldn’t agree on any one name that stood out or gave the town a little character. That’s not to say I don’t share any blame for this, since I shot down just as many dumbass names as the next guy. In fact, during the rabble during the town hall meeting, my frustration with the constant quarrelling boiled until I shouted out “Schitton!” It was me. Blame me for the name if you will. But hear me out: is it really not so fitting?

I see the name as just. Naming this town has been the shittiest experience I’ve had living here so far. We needed two town meetings and several months of arguing to clear this up. You could even go so far as to say I’ve started connecting with some of you. The perfect name, which no one was coming up with, was driving deep divides between us until we were almost at one another’s throats. And for what? To name this damn place? I get that a name should have meaning, but it won’t have meaning to everyone. Hence: Schitton. It’s no wonder it caught on among some of us, it’s a name with no meaning. I say we embrace the name. We deserve it. Let it make us stronger the next time we have to come together as a group and make some truly tough decisions. I want to know I can count on the guy next to me to save my skin if we tread too far into deep water (up shit creek you could say). And to Doctor Archibald Thornton in particular, I want to encourage him to continue running for mayor. We need some peace and order in this town otherwise we’re gonna keep going nowhere fast. Although I haven't spent too much time with the doc, he seems like he might have his head screwed on just tight enough to deal with all of our messes. As long as he doesn't try and force that mumbo-jumbo divine crap on me he's still got my support.

P.S. do NOT use the town's name as an excuse to now start shitting everywhere. That has never been and will never be acceptable. I will track your shit and find you.
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Epic × 2!
Disappointment
It is becoming harder and harder to see clarity in my purpus with the last weeks events. I toil and train for over a month with no sign of any adventure coming my way and my "companions" return with Molo's limp body. I was never very fond of the scaley rufian, but nothing but sorrow comes with his death. This is Cuatro's fault. Nothing good ever comes of trying to enslave people. We are weak in mind and soul. None among us has the composure or inspiration to recuncile these dark times, including myself.

Our town finelly has a name though. I will not utter it since it brings rage to me every time I hear it. The foolishness around here has discureged me from the one thing I was looking forward to: runnin for mayor. I don't think my pious and perhaps overzealus leadership would do any of my comrads any good. They are lost causes in a lost world that will soon bring its wrath upon us because we are weak. It is not like me to give in to darkness and temptation, but it has become incredibly dificult to remain resolute when I sense the sinister ways of my party. I must confess that I have had a few drinks down at the Raven with Thain lately. There is nobody else to confess to other than Brett and his tankards.

My greatest fear I harber is living in a divided society. It pains me every day to know that there is evil in the world, but it is pure agony to know that the people I live among breed it. Should I leave? No, I shan't for there are some that need me here to provide healing and good faith. I struggle to provide the latter more and more. Perhaps I will live out my days here trying to find the proper philosufy by training my voice day in and day out. It seems pointless as I have not gotten any better. I feel as though I've gotten worse as my words do nothing to inspire the citizens at the town hall. They all sit there with blank expressions of pain when I speak. Maybe it's not worth trying anymore. I wonder what Molo would have done...

Session: Session 6 - Dealing with the Gnolls - Friday, Sep 08 2017 from 9:00 PM to 2:00 AM
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Epic × 3!
The Passing of Dear Friend Molo
I remember crossing the great blue ocean with Molo. His quick thinking and unorthodox ways helped us reach these Wilds at least somewhat unscathed. From there, so many adventures. Crossing hundreds of miles of jungle and open ocean to visit the druid on the island. Crushing countless foes who would threaten us! And, finally, seeking out and quelling the Gnoll enemies. No more will he join us.

Brave Molo decided to venture forth and challenge the Gnoll leader himself to single combat. While we did not see such a spectacle, we knew that when hours and hours had past, the worst had to be true. The rest of the party slew the Gnoll leader in revenge as his tent burned; with Molo's body still inside. As Eugene and I sang lamentations for our friend, Francis Frank bravely ventured into the burning tent to save the body of Friend Molo. We spoke to his spirit itself. He wished us well on our future adventures, and hoped to see us in the next life (at least, that's what I assume. My knowledge of the Lizardfolk Languages is quite stale...)

We will never see his like again. Farewell... Friend Molo.
Session: Mindless Gnolls - Friday, Sep 08 2017 from 8:30 PM to 1:30 AM
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