When morning came, we decided the road south held more answers than the streets of Beregost.

Not long after setting out, we met a dwarf mercenary named Kagain. Gruff, practical, and seemingly motivated by coin above all else, he was searching for the missing son of Entar Silvershield. The task sounded straightforward enough, and so we agreed to help.

The search carried us across muddy roads and into the wilderness south and west of Beregost. Along the way, we recovered a pair of boots stolen by hobgoblins and later returned them to their rightful owner, a man named Zhurlong. The reward was welcome, though the missing noble remained nowhere to be found.

The further we traveled, the harsher the journey became.

A large bear attacked us without warning. The beast nearly tore Imoen apart before we finally brought it down. Several healing potions were required to restore her strength. It was an expensive reminder that the wilderness can be every bit as deadly as any bandit or monster.

The weather offered little mercy. Rain followed us across the countryside, soaking our cloaks and turning the roads into mud. One night, while marching through darkness and steady rainfall, a wolf emerged from the shadows. It died quickly, but the encounter left us wondering what other predators watched from beyond the reach of our lantern light.

The dead proved equally persistent.

Four skeletons attacked us during our travels. Though we destroyed them without much difficulty, several arrows found Imoen before the battle was done. She bore the wounds without complaint, though I suspect she is growing tired of being everyone’s favorite target.

The search for Entar’s son yielded nothing. We scoured the countryside and found no trace of him. For the first time since leaving Candlekeep, effort alone failed to produce answers.

Yet the journey was not without success.

Fate placed Bassilus in our path once again.

The first time I encountered the mad cleric, I barely escaped with my life. Surrounded by undead and unprepared for the battle, I was forced to retreat and spend days recovering from the wounds he inflicted.

This time was different.

Kagain charged forward without hesitation and kept Bassilus occupied while Imoen and I attacked from range. Arrow after arrow struck home. The cleric who had once driven me from the field fell beneath our combined assault.

The first time I met Bassilus, I fled.

The second time, I brought friends.

The victory felt better than I expected.

Not because Bassilus was dead, but because the fear he inspired no longer held power over me.

As we made our way back toward Beregost, four zombies attempted to block our path. They proved little more than an inconvenience. Together, we cut them down and continued on our way.

By the time we reached town, evening had fallen.

We secured rooms, patched our wounds, and enjoyed the rare comfort of a safe bed. The search for Entar Silvershield’s son remains unfinished, and many questions still lie unanswered.

But some victories are worth celebrating.

Bassilus is dead.

And for tonight, that is enough.

— Cail