The following journal, along with a parcel containing a quantity of magically-preserved meat, was found just outside the granite door in Ranguemont Pass by a San d’Orian guard named Perchond, As per the instructions on the wrapping, the journal was forwarded unopened to the Community Team and the meat was sent to the feast preparation kitchen to be used in the main course.

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Whilst contemplating the forthcoming feast, I remembered a quote in an ancient tome I possess: “Eat the head of the wise, and his wisdom you shall gain! Like eating food whence to gain nourishment.” What better method to determine the truth of this than to consume a monster of high intelligence? I shall record my progress here.

My inquiries have led me to a tremulous San d’Orian, a pitiable fellow suffering from chiropteraphobia. He has pointed me in the direction of Ranguemont Pass where, he claims, dwells a monster of high magic skill. From the gentleman’s apocryphal description, it would seem to be naught but brainpan and vestigial limbs. A serendipitous development…

I was beginning to believe the San d’Orian had used a chant of falsities to summon his own private exterminator, but the fiend is nigh!

Clearly vile but perhaps not so intelligent, the beast fell quickly. But how ignominious to arrive at the banquet toting nugatory nutriment…. In order to ensure succulence as well as sagacity, I have just now eaten a large serving. To my immediate chagrin, the taste was unpleasant in the extreme. The texture was that of an unripe apple. The flavor was a dark and bitter tongue’s bane. I feel no effects as yet.

I have come to a dead end. Strange, I thought this the path to egress. Concentration is difficult and weariness is overcoming me. The battle taxed me more than I suspected. This place seems oddly comfortable…I will rest here for now. On the morrow, we shall see.