Paid an old cart lady for a ride out of town. There was already a hooded Yuan-ti and a metal man aboard — quiet sorts, not much for talking. A fancy lad joined us halfway through and had the nerve to ask what I was doing. I told him — in great detail — about my quest for revenge against my no-good uncle and the Brass Jack Combine. Would’ve finished too, if not for the dynamite.
Cart went flying, me with it. Woke up in the dirt surrounded by goblins trying to nick what’s left of me. Got angry — gave ‘em what for. The old cart lady and her horse didn’t make it, poor things. A sheriff showed up to lend a hand, and together we sent the goblins running. One tried to flee — I threw my axe after him. Not my brightest move, as it’s now halfway up a cliff. Spent a good while climbing to fetch it back.
The others were talking with the sheriff while I was busy — didn’t catch what about, and honestly, I wasn’t listening. He led us back to town afterward. Never did catch his name either. I should probably start listening more.
Taszi — that’s the Yuan-ti — went her own way when we arrived. I headed straight for the tavern, “The Bent Spur.” Fine place, decent ale. Met a nice fellow named Lane who pointed me toward a man called H. Calder — big ears, hair retreating faster than goblins in daylight. He told me the Combine’s pushing north and that the man I’m after’s gone to the Hollow King Claim. Trouble is, the train tracks are busted. Week’s delay. Guess I’ll be staying put.
Turns out there’s work to be had. Some ruckus at the graveyard. The sheriff says it might be tied to a tribe of murderous centaur called the Hoofundown — right bunch of pricks, by the sound of it. He reckons the haunting’s their doing. Not really my area of expertise, but Eli — the holy man — seems to know what he’s doing. I’ll be the muscle. Seems like a good egg.
We went grave-hunting and found the tomb of one Benjamin Dwight. Got some sass from the DM (which I did not deserve, thank you very much). Eli did some holy rituals while the warforged stood watch. I mostly kept my mouth shut and watched. Later we had dinner — beans, pork, cornbread, and a whole onion. Then back to the graveyard.
Waited till nightfall. Sure enough, a ghost drifted out from the northern tomb. Turns out Eli blessed the wife’s grave but not her husband’s — figures. He tried talking to the spirit, and surprisingly, it worked. The ghost was grumpy but reasonable enough. We promised to fix things proper. Dug up Benjamin’s coffin and set the blessed cartridges inside — smelled like death and worse, but Eli did fine work. The ghost thanked us and finally passed on.
All in all, not a bad day’s work. Helped a soul find peace, got paid, and didn’t lose my axe. Still, revenge waits. The Hollow King Claim will have to wait a week — but I’ll get there soon enough.