DM: Tsuto's Journal

Later, as you all sit in The White Deer, almost too tired to talk, but bathed, and with you clothes at least partially scrubbed, you flick through the journal you picked up off the table in the cellar of the Glassworks. You had noticed the maps and illustrations before, but had not really had time to really get a good look at it.

Amidst the ramblings and mundane, three snippets of text stand out.

After the circled battle map you find the following scrawl:

The raid went about like we’d planned. Few Thistletop goblins died, and we secured Tobyn’s casket easily while the rubes were busy fighting. I can hardly wait for the real raid. This town deserves to be burnt to the ground, that’s for sure.

After the last of the second batch of maps:

Ripnugget’s plan for a single, overwhelming land-based attack is terrible.

We should work with the quasit. We could send her freaks up from below through the smuggling tunnel under my father’s Glassworks. At the same time, we’d invade from the river and the Glassworks in small, focused strikes.

Everyone but Bruthazmus agrees with me. The bugbear’s just contradictory out of spite.

My love’s too distracted by the lower chambers to make a decision. She say’s that once Malfeshnekor’s free and under her command, we won’t need to worry about subtlety. I hope she’s right.

And before the last illustration depicting the girl as succubus:

My love’s bent on doing this thing. Nothing I can say convinces her she’s beautiful. She’s obsessed with “purging” her “celestial taint” and replacing it with her Mother’s grace. Burning her father’s remains at the Thistletop shrine seems to have started the change. I can’t say I like her new hand.

I’m hopeful that when she offers Sandpoint to Lamashtu’s flames, her new body won’t be hideous. Maybe I’ll get lucky. She could become a succubus, right?

The night wears on and after a few too many brandies you make your separate ways, agreeing to meet at the mayor's office in the morning.