My studies and life among the captivating bugbears of Butcherblock Mountains.
After months of talk and study, I have decided to go where my heart has been pulling. I am leaving for Butcherblock from Thundering Steps, tomorrow! My calling is amongst the misunderstood bugbears. I will bring a knowledge of these poor creatures to all of Norrath!
Some believe that a halfling woman, such as myself, must be mad, choosing to study such intimidating beings. And be it in a foreign and treacherous land, then she’s doubly mad! I silence them with my rebuttal, “If I do not do it, who will?”
I landed at the Butcherblock docks, and had soon secured a dwarven guide and several helpers to aid my trip to the bugbear camp. They were a burly lot, and looked a bit rough around the edges, but they certainly knew the fastest paths and the safest routes. Plat well spent, no doubt! We traversed north through the lush Highlands with little trouble, and made camp for the night a bit off from the bugbears.
The next morning, the dwarves and I shared a meal and resumed our trek to the bugbear camp.
We weren’t but a griffin’s leap from the camp when a large bugbear came running at us from the side! It was a male, wearing crude skins and jagged metal bits as armor. He wielded a club with nails embedded in its surface.
The dwarves fought back , in their fear and ignorance. This only brought others to the fight! I tried to calm the lot, to stop the dwarves, but they must not have heard me what with all the screaming. I cannot blame these abused creatures! Here we were coming to their homes appearing as an army might.
They had long been the slaves of other Underfoot races, and our merry band of scientists must have looked to them like any other, coming in to enslave them, again.
I was blesed that they had noticed my pacifist nature, and my respect for their well being. I mourned for my guides, who knew no better then to meet aggression in kind, but I am here as proof that it is not the only answer.
I established my own camp very near to theirs, and have even been allowed to watch them from afar. I know they are watching me, too. Studying my moves and behaviour, no doubt, as I am theirs. They are too protective and inquisitive not to!
How such a majestic race came to be thought of as a digrace or purely as muscle and fodder for mining and construction initiatives is beyond me!
As I have been living near the bugbear clan and studying them, they have grouwn increasingly inquisitive and welcoming of my presence. Several have approached me, and have bene grateful for the meals that I have shared with them!
Language is a bit of a challenge, but with patience and an open mind, I find that we communicate quite well. The desires of a child are easy to discern even before they can speak. The situation is similar, and at some points has triggered my maternal instincts.
During my studies, I have made a great deal of headway with the clan, and have even been approached by some of the more curious ones, even nick named several!
Pookie is demure. Light in tint, he takes extra care to muss his hair with mud. he enjoys watching me and has even started to imitate my writing with his finger.
Nibbles is a darker brown. He enjoyes stocking small creatures, and is rather protective of his kills.
Cuddles is an enamored member of the clan. He even gives me kisses. Or that is to say, his version. I have never witness the bugbear show affection amongst themselves, but he licks my face, and smacks his lips. It is quite sweet!
Jumjum is a fighter, and has been witnessed instigating more then one amongst his own clan. I wonder if he is trying to prove his worth for battle.
Silverback named for the distinctive patch of silver hair on this back, though it is often covered by his leather smock.
I was fortunate to witness a prize being presented to the clan leader, today! A hunting party passed by my camp grunting and barking at one another. Their volume indicated that they were excited by something. It had alarmed me at first, but their body language told me it was a joyous occasion. They walked proud, and were hitting each other playfully.
Once within their camp, they gathered in front of the leader, and many ornate armor pieces were thrown on the ground at his feet. He made a great whoop!
Jumjum then produced several very hairy looking orbs from a bundled object he carried. I could not make out the objects from my distance sadly, but it brought the entire tribe to grunting, and hitting the ground! What an adventure to see such joy and pride exuded from these graceful creatures!
I must admit that I am confused by the other Faydwer folk. Earlier, some startled me as I was strolling back from studying Pookie. They called to me while waving their arms and motioning to to come hither.
“Thank Tunare, we got here in time!”
“What is the matter?” I asked.
They appeared to be dumbstuck.
“You are in grave danger, dear lady.”
One even warned, “That one’s a man killer!”
“I am in no such danger.” I assured them. “I only fear being crushed by their love!”
And with that, I walked back to my camp, to continue my mission. My published work will disprove misconceptions and myths about the bugbear, including the myth that they are violent.
They clan has been very busy the last few days. They gatherers have been collecting fresh game, and roots while the crafters have been making new skins into banners and clothes. They must be getting ready for a ceremony or a celebration of some kind!
The best news is that Cuddles has come to my tent. I think he wish me to join in the party! He is wearing some of the new skins upon his head and is accompanied by one of the tribe shaman. They are waiting with me now, but have made motions and grunts to each other to indicate I am to follow.
Perhaps they wish to make me a part of the tribe or to extend some other pleasantry upon me! No doubt, my next entry shall be full of merriment and awe. I am excited to share all that would have occurred, and all that I have learned on this night!
(There are no further entries. This page, like many of the following pages, is smeared with crusty mud and blood left by thick fingerprints.)