A Report to His Masters By An Oni Mage

Great King Skalmad, I write this report in a state of rage, and I promise you it will be swiftly followed by a report on the death of a group of meddling adventurers who know not whose wrath they have invited!

As ordered, I took a contingent of five trolls with me to stop the Mayor of Sylbaran from sending out for help from the Baron in Breland. We had stopped the messenger and my men were busy devouring his horse while I searched him to retrieve the message.

Those idiots who were not fit to serve me didn't even notice a half-dozen adventurers brazenly walking up the path, so intent were they on devouring that mangy horse! They knew I was distracted by the important business that Skalmad had placed me on, and yet they couldn't divorce themselves from their base appetites to keep one of their worthless eyes on the road.

So it was that the adventurers closed in on them and attacked. I don't know if they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if they are somehow reinforcements that someone had sent the Mayor.

There were five of them. A half-elf, an archer with deadly aim who had no trouble maiming and seriously injuring my men, even though they tried their best to rush to her and beat her before she could finish them off. I heard them calling her Brynn. A goliath, a shaman of some kind with a spirit bear who summoned all manner of spirits to aid his friends and hurt his foes, and I heard him called Lakar. A shifter, whom they named Smoke, who moved freely about the battlefield, slashing at my trolls with his curved blade. A half-orc whose name I didn't catch, as he fell quickly to an onslaught by one of my trolls.

And then... there was the dragonborn. They called him Tengri. He grumbled and yelled throughout the battle, complaining as his comrades forced him to finish my trolls with his acid and fire spells. He unleashed thunder and lightning, and mocked my own lightning magic as weak and unworthy of him. No matter how many times I unleashed lightning and freezing blasts of cold, his bravado never wavered. He was infuriating, and I will see his head at the end of my sword some day.

In the end, the adventurers proved more than a match for my trolls. They punished them with blade, bow, fire, lightning and acid, and in the end, I was forced to flee. When last I saw them, they were headed into the village of Sylbaran. I do not know what this means in regards to Brelish reinforcements, but I do know that these adventurers may be trouble for my great king. And if given the chance again, and more worthy soldiers with which to fight, I will bring their heads to Skalmad.

Especially that damned Tengri.