The further into the twisting tunnels beneath the manor we venture, the more of the swinefolk there are. If they obey any laws of nature at all, however, we shall be able to slay enough of them to thin them out to nothing. I do not know what else we shall find in this labyrinth, but our probes into its outer edges have so far been safer than efforts to confront the cannibal witch in the weald.
For today’s venture, my goal was principally to test the mettle of our newest recruit. His name is Tourmente. I am not fully convinced this isn’t a joke. His grasp of European seems at least as solid as mine, and I’m certainly confident in my ability to ask “what is your name?” at this point, so I don’t think it is a translation problem.
In any case, the venture into the Warrens was mostly uneventful. As foul as this place is, it has, at least for now, seemingly exhausted its repertoire of new horrors to serve up. I suspect this will not last long.