Hoard of the Dragon Queen

An Apothecary's Log / 1-2

An apothecary’s log 1

Perhaps someday a bard will find this journal on a skeleton and read the heroic feats within and think, “Wow. She must really have been something. See how she bravely fought to protect her friends! And what fine herbs she collected!”

I honestly don’t really even want to be here. My business was finally starting to do well. But a Mountain McCurseon has a responsibility, papa says. When you get the call, you answer it. I just happened to have gotten mine just as my business was taking off. Rotten timing.

I don’t have a lot of experience in battle. I’ve trained my whole life at my family’s behest, sure. But sending me off to Greenest to locate my cousin the cleric and help him if I could, that was my first duty given by my order. So I’ll find him. I only just hope he’s still alive. Healy is a good sort. We always got on well at reunions.

Ugh, bandits are eyeing my campsite. Apparently they don’t see the giant war hammer and the chainmail. Time to scare them off.

An apothecary’s log 2

Goodness, I haven’t written in this thing since my first night on the road. That is a bit shameful. What would my bard think?

There isn’t much time now. Nursing our wounds after a ruddy awful battle.

But I found Healy. Not dead, fortunately. And now we’re fighting to save this town. Dragons and cults and all manner of nonsense.

Realized something, just now, fresh off battle. Healy and I were in a bad situation. Our enemy bearing down upon us. Both of us had spent nearly all our strength. I’d been scared this whole time, ever since I’d arrived in Greenest and saw what beset it. I’d been scared when I fought my way to the keep. Scared when I helped the clerics and herbalists help the wounded. Scared when I looked under every white sheet.

But then, in that moment, when there was nothing betwixt my kin and his death save for me… this is what they talk about in my family. That duty to protect. To be that last rampart towering over my enemy what seeks harm to my friends.

I still don’t like to fight. But I think I get it now.

I was sent to protect my cousin. By Moradin’s beard, I will. And everyone else who I align myself with. I will be that rampart. And even if I don’t like it, I have a duty to bring down Moradin’s mighty hammer in the face of evil.

I suppose that is what it means to be a paladin, a Mountain McCureson.



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