To the Prefect of the Scotsile Temple
I am pleased to report my escape. Currently, I have found sanctuary at a hermit's lodging deep in the swamp. My host assures me that I am quite safe as long as I remain here. I plan to recover my strength and then continue my journey home. The hermit has agreed to use a friendly owl to deliver this missive.
I was able to escape due to the assistance of a man named Varn, whom I befriended in the slavers' camp. He confessed to being a thief, but he put his nefarious talents to beneficent use. He acquired a dagger and the handle of a broken pick, which I have used as a club. On a dark, moonless night, he picked the locks of our shackles and the door to our hut. We then sneaked to the wall of the stockade. I said a prayer to the One and He cloaked our passage so that we remained unseen. His guidance was with us further, for we found a hole in the stockade wall and were able to crawl through.
There was a wide open space of murky ground between us and a line of cypress trees that offered us cover. We stealthily crawled by guards patrolling this area and were almost to the shelter of trees when a guard dog jumped upon me. He clamped down upon my left arm, which was fortunate for it prevented the beast from barking. As I tried to shake it loose, Varn dispatched the creature with his dagger.
We fled into the cypresses and ran as fast as we could. After a while, we took a short break and I healed my wounded arm. We then continued. Unfortunately, we were walking through a muddy expanse, leaving a trail of footprints that formed a veritable beacon to our location. Thus, we were tracked by a fell monster, which I have learned serves the slavers. At the time, though, we were surprised when the gargoyle swooped down upon us. It wounded me, but I smote it with such a mighty strike that it flew off. We penetrated further through the swamp, beating off a crocodile that tried to make us his morning repast. Later, a slaver tracked us down (now we know that he was aided by the gargoyle). His war dog attacked me, sinking its teeth into my exposed flesh. I clubbed the animal senseless but the slaver was immediately on me. Varn came to my rescue and plunged his dagger into the man's neck. We continued to travel until it neared dawn. We then spotted the isolated little hut of a hermit. We knocked, and were rewarded with the holy man's assistance, which we are still enjoying.
I hope to leave soon. I have included a rough map of the location of the slaver's stockade. If I do not return, I hope that this account will at least be of use to you and that you will end the slavers' nefarious deeds.
Rowan of Scotsile