14 Tarsakh, 1502 D.R.

This was an odd mission. Back to the Moonshae Isles, where it seems that everything that can go wrong, spectacularly will.

The captain of the guard in this city contracted us to come look into a murder. It was an odd one, he said, and one the guards could not -- or would not -- solve themselves. His reasons for outsourcing help so far away remain entirely opaque, but I am reasonably certain that they are one of two: either he was amused to do so, or he was simply to lazy to do his job himself. I suppose it could also be both. The entire town was absolutely obsessed with baked goods, which struck me as oddly sinister.

Well. Bri and Shev examined the victim. I do not know what they found, save for what they told us -- a black ooze in his head and in parts of his body. Solia and I, in the meantime, went to question the victim's neighbor, who had found the body. A pleasant old woman, or so it seemed. She seemed less interested in the murder than in offering us cookies. I declined.

The woman seemed friendly enough, but she avoided our questions and concealed what she knew. When pressed, she attempted to cast a charm upon us, and worse. Combat ensued. I shall not beat around the proverbial bush any farther: she was dead already, and filled to the brim with the same vile black ooze. It packed quite a punch, and was quite caustic when it splashed on me every time I struck it, but Solia and I were able to nullify it in short order.

But the trouble was not over. More slimes were popping up throughout the city, and we had to hurry to contain them before more people were infected. As we went, striking them down as we found them, we slowly learned about them: they were, I now understand, devouring knowledge. They left behind blank books, consuming the words and information contained therein. They consumed their victims' brains in the same way, and assumed their lives to avoid notice, as they had with the old woman.

Finally, we learned the source of the oozes: the city's largest central library. We traveled there and found it practically empty, save for one intoxicated young man. We pressed him for information and sent him on his way.

The library was rife with tiny oozes, each one slowly erasing the books they came across, each one making its way to some central location. Following one, we discovered a trapdoor.

What we found beneath was... predictable. So predictable that Shev felt the need to predict it out loud, and we all rolled our eyes and agreed. A giant slime was down the stairs, comparatively intelligent and powerful. It made empty excuses for its villainy, claiming responsibility for the vandalism of the city's books and for the murder, yet believing itself vindicated by virtue of... just learning? I can't be guilty because I'm just learning? I think that was the general point.

Whatever the case, we fought. A second slime dropped down from the ceiling to support it, but Solia locked it down with her arrows while Shev, Bri, and I finished off the comparatively smart one.

The useless captain was grateful to us, and rewarded us with a pittance of gold and a job-well-done.

-- Yashir adh Rumahr

Party: Solia, Yashir, Shev, Bri
Place: The Moonsea
Day: 14 Tarsakh, 1502 D.R.

We were engaged by the captain of the guard in this city to investigate a murder he described as… irregular. He offered little in the way of useful context, and less still in explanation for why such a matter required assistance from outside his own ranks. I cannot determine whether this decision stemmed from negligence or idle curiosity. It may well be both.

From the moment of our arrival, I found the city itself disquieting. Its culture appears singularly preoccupied with baked goods—an enthusiasm so pervasive that it borders on the unnatural. I have learned to trust such instincts. Environments that present as overly pleasant often conceal something less benign beneath the surface.

While Bri and Shev examined the victim, I accompanied another to question the neighbor who discovered the body. She presented as a kindly older woman—hospitable, eager to offer us cookies before engaging with our inquiries. I declined.

Her demeanor remained pleasant, but her answers were evasive. When pressed, she attempted to influence us through magic. That alone confirmed my suspicions.

What followed was brief but instructive. The woman was already dead, her body inhabited by a corrosive black ooze. The substance reacted violently when struck, lashing out with caustic force, but we were able to destroy it without sustaining serious harm.

Unfortunately, this encounter proved to be only the beginning.

Reports quickly spread of similar creatures manifesting throughout the city. We moved to contain them, engaging and destroying the oozes wherever they appeared. In doing so, we began to understand their nature. They consumed knowledge—literally. Books were left blank in their wake, stripped of all text. Their victims suffered a similar fate, their minds emptied and their identities assumed as a means of concealment.

This trail led us to the city’s central library.

We found it largely abandoned, save for a single intoxicated young man who provided little of value before we sent him on his way. Within, the infestation was extensive. Smaller oozes moved methodically through the stacks, erasing information page by page, each one progressing toward a common destination.

Following one such creature, we discovered a concealed entrance leading below.

As expected, the source awaited us there—a larger, more advanced specimen. It demonstrated a degree of intelligence and attempted to justify its actions, claiming that its behavior was merely an extension of learning and therefore beyond reproach. The argument was unconvincing.

We engaged it. A second ooze joined the fray from above, but I was able to contain it at range while the others focused their efforts on the primary threat. Both were ultimately destroyed.

With the source eliminated, the remaining activity ceased.

We reported back to the captain, who expressed his gratitude in the form of modest payment and commendation. The matter, for now, appears resolved.

I remain unconvinced that this city is as benign as it presents itself.