L
loxleyhood
Guest
Found on the body of a dead Kobold, Albion Portal Keep, Emain Macha, on the day of 1st November.
October 21st: The Midgardian Milegate is held against us. Earlier today an Infiltrator that had aparently been employed by my father, still leading the men of Dun Crauchon, to find us, and give news of us. He bore horific wounds, and collapsed in my arms when he came upon us. Earlier this evening he came to, for a little while, and said that Dun Crauchon was under siege by Hibernia, and the majority of the garison was dead. My father is calling for immediate assistance and is recalling all the scouting patrols. I feel infuriated that we cannot return to him. I should have never passed this deep.
October 22nd: This morning the Infiltrator passed away. He requested that he laid to rest in the field where is companion had fell. We are traveling there now, though at no fast pace, for the armies of Midgard are thick upon us. I cannot help but look, morbid as it is. I cannot imagine what caused his wounds, but it is something I have never seen before. We will make camp in the forest, near the Midgardian milegate.
Morning of October 23rd: Kobolds are amougnst us, and one of the scouts reports that they have desecrated the fresh graves of the Guild of Shadows. They are Shadowblades, and hunters. I cannot remain unmoving, and we have the stength. We will strike them this afternoon, before the darkness seals our doom.
Evening of October 23rd: We have slain all the Shadowblades and Hunters. Athelbred fell today. As did both the twins, Edward and Edwin, I was fond of them. I am troubled by greater things however. When we decended upon the Kobolds, and started shooting into their mass, most quickly went to flee, as I have seen countless times before. However there was a small group of hunters who stood firm, and charged against us. We shoot most before they reached us, but several reached Athelbred, the proudest and eldest of my men, and overcame him. Yet another man less who remembers the face of Arthur. I blame myself, for when these creatures charged us, I stopped shooting and just stared. They appeared to be trolls to me, though small, and walking in a manner bizarre. I have studied the bodies, they are hideous. Haired...... beasts. I do not know what they are.
October 24th: We continued to the Midgardian Milegate today, and today I made the decision that I will rue until I die. I fear I will not rue it long. We saw more of those creatures traveling to join the army at the mile gate. I could not allow that, our situation at the mile gate is bad enough as it is. They were equal in number, but I had to take the risk. They seemed unarmed to me, with trinkets attached to their wrists. We opened fire. I buried 15 brave Scouts today, I have but 7 men left. These, things, that is all I can name them, they fight with ferocity, and they are horrible. I understand the nature of the Infiltrator's wounds.
October 25th: It is my 23rd birthday, and smoke rises from Dun Crauchon. We are now at the Mile Gate and I hope to pass the army upon it by stealth. I cannot delay any more to the aid of my father, my men are anxious.
October 26th: I am the last one. Ethalwyn sacrificed himself so I could flee, and it makes me sick to think of their resolution at that place, of their matyrdom. I slew three Midgardians as I fled, but I have the blood of an entire scouting parting on my hands. I am pursued by yet more Shadowblades, but I think they are still fa
The rest of the pages have crude langauge and obnoxious scribblings upon them. You cannot understand what is written.
October 21st: The Midgardian Milegate is held against us. Earlier today an Infiltrator that had aparently been employed by my father, still leading the men of Dun Crauchon, to find us, and give news of us. He bore horific wounds, and collapsed in my arms when he came upon us. Earlier this evening he came to, for a little while, and said that Dun Crauchon was under siege by Hibernia, and the majority of the garison was dead. My father is calling for immediate assistance and is recalling all the scouting patrols. I feel infuriated that we cannot return to him. I should have never passed this deep.
October 22nd: This morning the Infiltrator passed away. He requested that he laid to rest in the field where is companion had fell. We are traveling there now, though at no fast pace, for the armies of Midgard are thick upon us. I cannot help but look, morbid as it is. I cannot imagine what caused his wounds, but it is something I have never seen before. We will make camp in the forest, near the Midgardian milegate.
Morning of October 23rd: Kobolds are amougnst us, and one of the scouts reports that they have desecrated the fresh graves of the Guild of Shadows. They are Shadowblades, and hunters. I cannot remain unmoving, and we have the stength. We will strike them this afternoon, before the darkness seals our doom.
Evening of October 23rd: We have slain all the Shadowblades and Hunters. Athelbred fell today. As did both the twins, Edward and Edwin, I was fond of them. I am troubled by greater things however. When we decended upon the Kobolds, and started shooting into their mass, most quickly went to flee, as I have seen countless times before. However there was a small group of hunters who stood firm, and charged against us. We shoot most before they reached us, but several reached Athelbred, the proudest and eldest of my men, and overcame him. Yet another man less who remembers the face of Arthur. I blame myself, for when these creatures charged us, I stopped shooting and just stared. They appeared to be trolls to me, though small, and walking in a manner bizarre. I have studied the bodies, they are hideous. Haired...... beasts. I do not know what they are.
October 24th: We continued to the Midgardian Milegate today, and today I made the decision that I will rue until I die. I fear I will not rue it long. We saw more of those creatures traveling to join the army at the mile gate. I could not allow that, our situation at the mile gate is bad enough as it is. They were equal in number, but I had to take the risk. They seemed unarmed to me, with trinkets attached to their wrists. We opened fire. I buried 15 brave Scouts today, I have but 7 men left. These, things, that is all I can name them, they fight with ferocity, and they are horrible. I understand the nature of the Infiltrator's wounds.
October 25th: It is my 23rd birthday, and smoke rises from Dun Crauchon. We are now at the Mile Gate and I hope to pass the army upon it by stealth. I cannot delay any more to the aid of my father, my men are anxious.
October 26th: I am the last one. Ethalwyn sacrificed himself so I could flee, and it makes me sick to think of their resolution at that place, of their matyrdom. I slew three Midgardians as I fled, but I have the blood of an entire scouting parting on my hands. I am pursued by yet more Shadowblades, but I think they are still fa
The rest of the pages have crude langauge and obnoxious scribblings upon them. You cannot understand what is written.
