Begreosan by Gnornian

Into the wilds of The Gnornish Marshes we wade. Our quest is simple, our hopes high, our chances good.
...
The beasts here are armoured and fierce, with snapping beaks and patient malevolence. They are ancient, full of spite, and endless hunger. Yet wade through we must.
...
They Ate Old Hwex. We think.
...
Our party began as six. The Six Mystics Of The Moorland, they called us. We called each other "friend". And we were never mystics, not really. Just parlour tricks, sleight of hand, and educated guesses.
....
Now we are three. Our sage wisdom and low customs are unwanted. Where are the Binded Three?
...
Pray thee mercy.

Tales from the elder Gnornish Lands.