And so our fight with the Stone Golem done, we emerged victorious with Erroll, our guide. Some of us where badly hurt, but at least this section of the island was beginning to heal. Over the next few days, as we journeyed south ever closer to Farshore, we began to heal as well. All except poor Errol that is. Gods know what those demonic monsters did to him, but he had become a broken man, and even our cleric had no clue what can heal a damaged soul.
So we strove ever onwards, and in our walking we noticed we were being followed. We thought nothing of it until we came to a great wall set across a narrow section of the island. As we attempted to gain access through the mighty portal at it's centre, we became surrounded by what we now now to be an Alman tribe. At the time however they seemed strange and barbaric, and they surrounded us with wicked looking spears before we could draw our own weapons. Ever inclined to a fight, I must confess I thought to strike them down and raised my fists accordingly, unaware that behind me the dawrf and bard, Lorcian, were attempting to converse and arrange safe passage for us with the Alman chief. I became aware suddenly, however, when the burly dwarf stepped between me and my Alman spear-holder and thinking not on the subtle electrics that surround my knuckles, took a hold of my fists and lowered them. Reluctantly I allowed him to maintain the peace and he retuned to his conversation.
I know not what he said, or what he gave to obtain our safe passage, but we were soon moving again, being lead to a small village just beyond the wall, where we were allowed to rest and refresh ourselves before being escorted by the fairest these Alman had to offer to a great feast, apparently in our honour. We talked and ate and where told stories of the Alman, and told the story of our journey and, I must confess we had been at sea a long while and my alcohol tolerance must have lowered, became wretchedly drunk on a delightful spirit made of coconuts.
After we woke in the morning [and I am pleased to say I did not have a hangover] the chief offered his son to guide us to another Alman village where we could get boats Across to Farshore. And so laden with provisions we set off and dully came to this other village. However, as we crossed the waters and looked to Farshore, we couldn't help to quell the rising panic in our hearts: An unnatural smoke was coming from the small settlement. Farshore was alight!