Of winged monkeys and cold thoughts

Examining the corpse more closely led to the worrying conclusion that it had been freeze dried. Maybe taking the circlet and letting it thaw out wasn't such a good idea? Nah, that could never happen - let’s take the circlet anyway.

We headed back to check on the ensorcelled woodsman that we had left tied up in the cells. As well as the drag marks on the floor, the doors were now wide opened and the woodsman had vanished! We checked the door to the north and as suspected it was a makeshift latrine. Pee-eew!

More exploration showed that the dungeon had been abandoned, except for an oversized bird's nest surrounded by gnawed bones. Could this be a dreaded turkeyman? Bastonn thought that he could detect the scent of a woodwife somewhere.

Time was running out though, and we realised that we had to get back to the village. At least the cold iron artefacts which might have some effect against the fae. We rode back as fast as we could, heading straight for Ufris and were greeted by the smell of smoke and the sight of burning buildings and marauding orcs.

Krisanna grabbed the circlet and tried to think cold thoughts in the hope of extinguishing the fire, trying to get closer without being spotted. We sneaked around the outside of the village where we could see a weird leaf covered woodwife riding a giant spider, and her goblin minions. Orla swiftly put two arrows into her. Bastonn struck with his sword looking for a weak spot and finished the creature off. Krisanna backstabbed a goblin, killing it with one blow. The ogre fell next, and then the spider.

We pushed through into the centre of the village where things were looking grim for the villagers, with fire spreading and many smaller battles. The young sheriff Jan proved his mettle by slaying an ogre single handedly. The bad guys took this as a sign that the tide had turned and ran away. There was a communal effort to put the fire out and Krisanna got a bit singed, not realising the aura of cold didn't extend to her trousers

After helping to bury the dead and repair the damage, we returned to our castle, weighing the rumours that we had heard on the way. It seemed that evil forces were at play in the village of Hendonborough to the north. We also made a note to collect any wyvern livers and keep an eye out for a serial rotter called "Sly George" Tanner

We left the castle builders to their labours and headed for Hendonborough, which turned out to be a well to do town with two inns, a church, a manor house and other fine buildings. A winged blue monkey tipped us off as to an alternative reward for handing in Sly George to the ladies of the forest - noted. We settled in the inn, listening to more rumours about the hell hounds since Pastor Noonan had disappeared. Looks like we’ve got our work cut out!