Growfest 6, 593 CY, highest point on the unknown island

Eww. Yondalla. Kendit hilto pintith ento nitli. I fear my last prayer for my companions to get along better was answered by Dallah Thaun. Or Olidammara or Boccob was answering one of my companions’ prayers. Or, there was something really wrong with the rum.

We took one more trip outside, during which we were immediately assaulted by six very stinky troglodytes. After we pulled a few spears out of Triaa, we traveled the perimeter of the entire island.

Since my companions were pretty tired when we got back to the tower, I set about preparing a meal while Dora and Triaa apparently had a drinking contest on top of the lighthouse— I had assumed from our prior conversations that they were going up to keep a lookout and try to determine how to fix the light. By the time Alexander and I joined them, they were both in the process of passing out from rum consumption. I wanted to teach them a lesson about drinking and responsibility, and Alexander had just the idea.

Looking back on it, stripping down an elf and a dwarf and leaving them to wake up in the master bedroom were not the best ideas. Neither was making lots of allusions to how they got there. Unfortunately, neither wanted to admit they had passed out (there had been betting involved in the rum-drinking contest) and played along. Too well.

Things got a bit more problematic when, after a day of resting, and recovering from a hangover for some, Dora and Triaa appeared to be retiring back to that same room together. Alexander and I tried to tell them we had just been joking around with them the night before, but they refused to believe us! While I’m sure things can and will get more awkward, I’ve yet to imagine how.

With morning, we were finally rested and fairly restored, and decided to head to the top of the highest peak in the center of the island, where Mirval’s journal described some ruins. We found a well-traveled path leading right up through the trees, and managed to make it up to a cave entrance below the peak without encountering any of the indigenous life (or unlife, for that matter).

Dora, with her excellent vision and ability to move silently, opted to go in and scout to see if there was a way to the top via the inside. She carried a potion of invisibility on the off chance she bumped into anything she couldn’t handle alone. Once again, our “lesson” came back to bite us in our collective back ends. Triaa decided that Dora was obviously in trouble as she’d been gone for more than a minute. He headed in to find her, with Alexander bearing a lit lantern behind him. I followed them, of course; though I was pretty sure Dora was fine.

She was fine, and pretty upset with Triaa for following her in; she’d found an interesting troglodyte temple replete with totems. There was no time to argue though, as at that moment we heard the local tribe’s war drums begin to reverberate through the mountain.

We ran outside, and, assuming the troglodytes would think they were following us back down the mountain, decided to continue upward. It was slow going, but luckily we made it to a ledge overlooking the cave just moments before twenty or so of the stinky creatures exited from it. They headed down the path, as expected.

We had to climb at least 100’ higher to reach the plateau; but it was well worth it! In addition to an impressive view of the island, we found some low-standing ruined stone walls covered in vines. These are most certainly Mirval’s ruins.