The pagan has been wounded severely, almost certainly mortally. She has had her leg severed below the knee by some sort of terrible pig-man within the warrens. We were attacked by a pair of them as we patrolled along the sewer, two of the snorting and hulking beasts. They walked like men but had the face of swine, and their appendages terminated in beastly digits. As our torchlight fell upon them, it was easy to see that their skin looked ill fitting- tight in some places, loose in others. They each wielded vicious battle axes and ran at us, weapons raised, though not before Benedict was able to fire with his pistols. I watched the shots tear the flesh off the charging monsters, though it did little more than splash blood upon the stone walls. Wolfswift and York braced themselves against the charge while Benedict reloaded his pistols, and I did what I could to fortify their spirits for the impending assault.
The battle was brutal and bloody, a different manner entirely than slaying mere slugs. As sword and halberd bit into the porcine flesh, blood spilled upon the stone and turned it slick, making the footing treacherous. Wolfswift began to behave similarly as she did when we fought against those awful slugs, howling in revelry at the blood being shed. Those vile pig-men grunted and snorted as they swung their powerful axes, and it was in the course of avoiding such a blow that Wolfswift slipped. As she lay upon the ground, the pig-man swung again and crushed the bone beneath his axe with a revolting crunch, severing her lower leg entirely. She screamed like a wounded animal as blood gushed from her wound while York continued to fight off the pair of pig-men. Benedict fired twice more with his pistols, slaying one of the beastmen, leaving one left for York to duel. I could hear their weapons clash together as I pulled Wolfswift back towards me, mustering every ounce of my faith to heal her wound. Channeling the power of the Goddess, I was able to stop the bleeding and partially mend the flesh, though the bone still remained splintered and broken.
When Benedict saw Wolfswift’s wound, he called for retreat. As Benedict and I picked up Wolfswift, York found an opening and slid his shattered sword into the throat of the last creature. Blood gushed like fountain all over the beast’s front and it fell to the ground, giving us the opportunity to run. We could hear more snorting throughout the dark of the tunnels as we fled for the surface, and all we could do was hope that we would not be caught out by more of the swine-men.
The pagan was fitful as we carried her to the surface, occasionally rousing herself to consciousness long enough to thrash about and scream before her energy flagged. Her splintered bone was still partially exposed and it is impossible for me to fathom the pain she may have endured, though I suspect that a lesser woman would have been killed by such a wound. We returned her to the hamlet without further incident, where we were able to place her in Morgan’s care. She was pale and clammy when the physician received her, and her entire body was trembling. There is no more my healing can do for her now, though I will continue to check in on her as the days pass to see if I can assist Morgan in any way. I have held Wolfswift in low esteem, but I do sincerely hope that whatever fortitude she derives from her pagan beliefs will give her the strength to survive this.
We have not seen Clarke since we began exploring the warrens, but Benedict has explained to Cole what we encountered while traversing the sewers. I trust that word will reach Clarke, where ever he may be, once Cole has sobered himself. For my part, I have spoken with Raziq who has done his own research while we were away. He has confirmed that the symbol is that of a blood cult, but no more information could be gleaned from his scrolls. I talked at length with him about the swine-men, and he has suggested that perhaps they are the work of the cultists- indeed, he suggested that they may have desecrated their own bodies in the pursuit of their dark manipulation of the flesh, or else they have kidnapped innocents for their nefarious purposes. The members of the church have not mentioned anything of missing persons of the hamlet, but it is not impossible that others have wandered onto the estate and found themselves lost in the dark of the tunnels.
I do hope that now that we know what manner of corruption exists in the warrens, we can stop these aimless explorations. I understand the gravity of the task set ahead of us and I know that little of it will be easy, but I am opposed to throwing my life away fruitlessly for the sake of wandering through some ancient sewer. It is scarcely worth Wolfswift’s leg. I do hope that we are not asked to go back down there so quickly- every trip we make out to the shore, I dread stepping foot into the entrance. It is becoming more difficult to enter that place and be overcome with that hot, putrid air. It feels as if it is penetrates every fiber of my being and infests my lungs with every breath I take while I am in those tunnels. It is a difficult thing to face over and over again, though I know the Goddess is with me always. I have been performing the Mending twice day to keep my spirit pure and my healing abilities sharp- Morgan was able to provide me with a poultice for my wound, so I am free of distraction.
I will write to you once I know more, Matron. May the Goddess grant me the strength to endure.