Aicaano ' s Journal Content . I take quill to paper to record what I fear are the final days of Hackdirt . Though many would despise this place as a backwater of no value , I have found peace here . Few of the more " civilized " places I have lived have made me feel as welcome . Though few of my race have ever come here , I encountered no prejudice , no resentment . For two years I lived here , enjoying friendship and trust as never before . This has been a golden time in my long life , one I will deeply regret if it comes to an end . Several weeks ago , a human of rough looks and worse manners strolled into the village . He marched about as if he owned the place , opening every unlocked door , peering into every stable . Ovidius , usually the most pompous of swollen fools , for once acted as the prefect he claims to be . He confronted this stranger , demanding to know his business here . The intruder stared at him rudely and didn ' t deign to answer . He strode from the village and vanished beyond the hills to the east . Etiache wanted to follow him , but Ovidius forbade it , worried that only trouble would result . If only we had listened to Etiache . We should have caught and killed that stranger . Perhaps what befell us would have been avoided . Auri - El knows ; I do not . A few days later , another stranger came to Hackdirt , wearing well - used swords loose in their scabbards . His steed was wild - eyed , a warhorse bred for combat , held in check only by the rider ' s stern hand . Up to Ovidius this warrior rode . He named himself Vanier and proclaimed himself the new overlord of Hackdirt . He said his gang , the Black Daggers , waited just over the hill . He gave us one day to agree to his terms or all would be slaughtered . All inhabitants were now his servants and our dwellings , livestock , and all possessions were now his . Those who cooperated would find him a just overlord , he claimed . Ovidius stared , mouth agape . Before he could gather his wits , matters were taken from his hands . Nerva charged Vanier , screaming that he would never live as a slave . The bandit ' s sword sheared off the tines of Nerva ' s pitchfork and the horse ' s hooves lashed out and crushed his head . We stood there stunned as Vanier rode off . We buried Nerva behind his house that evening . Then we gathered around the well and discussed our fate . Some , like Yggoz and Etiache , urged that we stay and fight . As if farmers and merchants had a chance against such as Vanier . Saner heads prevailed and we voted to abandon Hackdirt . Even Yggoz agreed in the end . Only Ovidius opposed the will of the rest , saying he would never leave Hackdirt . No argument could prevail against him . In the end , he ascended the tower with all the food and water we could spare . We sealed the door shut behind him . It was Iirenir , quiet , shy Iirenir , who suggested we chain shut our doors and destroy all we could not carry . This was done with a sense of grim satisfaction . Dawn will break soon . The others have gone , moving slowly to the south . I must leave too . I linger only to finish this . Perhaps someday we will reclaim Hackdirt and this journal will survive as a record of our darkest times .