It insists on thumping. Why does it thump? Isn't it enough that the foul thing seems indestructible save by the power of fire? Wait. What am I saying? Surely this is just another in a troop of squatters trying to drive us off from their territory.
Allow me to compose myself by recounting the facts of the day.
Clearly, we have outstayed our welcome in the town. We went to investigate the rumor of an old church that has been boarded up for some time, and someone tried to scare us off with a disgusting sack of human remains and some form of macabre puppeteering. I disposed of it, and then we entered the church by force. We probably should have been more cautious of who saw our entry, because we had barely given the interior a cursory inspection before the front doors were barred and the place set to burn with our party inside.
Of course, the same pranksters with their wires had also hung a corpse from the rafters, and they were careful not to disturb the interior of the building in a visible way. There must be an extreme murder rate in this hamlet. At any rate, my more superstitious companions were engrossed in the body, so I took a moment to examine the most likely hiding spots for items of interest. I discovered an ancient and interesting book, although I cannot read it. I gave it to Cledwyn, who seems the most intelligent of our cadre, excepting myself of course. Perhaps he can make sense of it.
We made fast work of an exit through the back of the building then. The flames were progressing, and we dared not risk harming our lungs with smoke and super-heated air. Upon our departure from the ruined church, one of our less tactful companions nearly got us killed by an angry mob of locals. Luckily, cooler heads prevailed.
A decision was made that this may not be the best time to be seen in town, and so we progressed our earlier plan to revisit the castle on the hill. I cannot fully recount what has happened here this night. It is still too near and my thoughts are not as clear as they should be. For the moment, it is sufficient to say that we are stuck in the room we cleared out for the night. Some of our companions are injured and we've done our best to patch them up.
I do not trust to luck that tomorrow will be a better day. If we cannot clear off the filthy rabble in this forsaken building, it may behoove me to part with this group and seek my fortunes elsewhere. Alas, they are convenient to have around. It is a quandary, indeed.