After carving a path of pure carnage through the wilds towards the swamp with Orechipper things were looking up. A few more levels behind me, and Diego was becoming impressed with my physique. Lizards may be cagey foes... but bloodflies and scavengers fear my wrath. A lone wolf met its end at the pointed stick end of Orechipper as well... my frist real kill.
Ah the swamp... so laid back, so peaceful. The frogs chirping, the bloodflies buzzing, the swampsharks making their happy whale noises. Everyone was so friendly and the quests were so easy that I almost didn't have the heart to decimate the ranks of the Sleeper. Fortunately, the crazy Baal in the swamp reminded me of my evil purpose.
By dawn I had my pick of huts. It must be noted that Templars are a lot more attentive to their charges screams of agony than Old Camp Guards are.
Quests completed and the Brotherhood eagerly begging me to join (it seems that overnight they had a lot of defectors...) I headed for my first crack at the Old Mine.
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