We made our way across the weed- and rubble-choked moat into Mor, and followed the remnants of the old wall to a ruined tower. From there, we headed south, following the traces of what was once a great avenue leading to the palace. The fountain that I (Strothbogie) had promised to cleanse was overgrown with so many pointy- and twisty- vines and weedes and with them those pointy- and twisty- birds that feast on the blood of men called STIRGES.
Three of them hunted us and we killed them. But not wanting to confront the entire flock, we withdrew, hoping to make the acquaintance of other good folk eager to join us in combat against a common enemy or, failing, that, a fat goat for the STIRGES to drain in our stead.
We encounter neither goat nor human friend, but a specimem of those creatures seemingly born in the minds of lunatics and those cunning merchants eager to supply such lunatics with a parade of implausible realities, this one shaped like a tortoise but with legs like a hairless dog, horrible long-toed feet, a forked tail, two equisitely feathry and tickly antennae, and a constant appetite for metal-- to whit-- a RUST MONSTER.
The RUST MONSTER drew off a number of the STIRGES, and we-- to whit Strothbogie, Thakko, Briggitta, and Robo-- killed the remainder.
And this is how, I, Strothbogie, was able to taste for the first time the sacred water of that holy fountain.