Field Report, Currant Isles

“I am Supply Efreitor Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, currently stationed in the smallest of the  Currant Isles [This island, named Kalua by the natives, is roughly circular and 25 dekants across]. The time is 2142, first day of deployment. This recording comes after a preliminary expedition into the volcanic jungles of the Isles. All of the company are present and accounted for, as expected. Most of them have taken their choppers in for light repairs. I still cannot understand the logic behind sending a cycle unit into the underbrush, but command says they have good enough reasons. In my opinion, there’s no use sending a group trained for speed to do intensive searching, but I don’t get a say. We haven’t found anything yet, not even a campfire. We will resume the hunt tomorrow.”

“This is S.E. Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, stationed in the Currant Isles. Time is 2118, second day of deployment. The company set out again, and we found some leads. We were looking for the rogue 2nd Arcanists, and we found… something. Our scouts picked up traces of some ritual, stuff they’d never seen before. It unnerved most of us, really. A circle in the forest floor, short blades unlike the regulation combat knives, blood-stained… Trackers reckon that the ceremony, whatever its goal, was performed less than a week ago, but they can’t say more than that. We’ll follow that lead with the unit in the morning.”

“S.E. Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, stationed in the Currant Isles and outposted two dekants into the jungles from our original landing spot, on the southern shore. Again, the decisions from command make no sense to me. They’ve been making the landing spot on a deserted territory into a beachhead, and now they tell us to move. It’s ridiculous how many resources got poured into that encampment, and now we’re sleeping in the redwoods again. Trackers- eerie bastards- say they’ve found traces of the original Arcanists whose leftovers we found yesterday. We’re gonna keep heading through the jungles, combing this place. Island is beautiful, but it’s hotter than Flames. Give me a Sangua stone beach over this, any day. On a more official note, supplies are still steady, no anomalies or issues, which is surprising. Bureaucrats did their jobs, I suppose. Oh, and the time is 2202. Got held back, setting up camp.”

“S. E. Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, posted three and a half dekants from the beachhead, currently waiting out the rain in a cave, with the unit. Time is 0943, fourth day of deployment. Scouts are checking the cave back- They’ve found something. Bodies, they say- They’re counting a half dozen- All Arcanists, roughly a quarter of their troop- They’re reporting strange conditions of death, pale corpses, neck wounds, all holding empty service weapons- Signs of a struggle- Blood’s name, what happened here? Command says they’re gonna ask for a medical unit, coroners, get an autopsy of the poor bastards- People are arguing. Rook says we should bolt, afraid- Command says we’re staying put. Says its been three days since the guys bit it, that there ain’t no threat anymore. And- Of course. I’m first watch. No threat, and we keep watch. Well, I’ll pick this up as soon as I can.”

“S.E. Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, still hidden in the island cave, even though the rain has stopped. Time is 1134. We’ve gotten preliminary autopsy results on the seven bodies from this hole: all of them were drained of all blood, through the neck wounds. Bite marks, they say, animal-like. Some of the troop are blaming a chupacabra, or other such folk legends. I’m usually quick to ridicule that line of thinking, but I don’t have any alternative explanation. On a brighter note, scouts say they’ve found a good lookout point that we could camp at; the altitude’ll get us out of some of this jungle humidity, and hopefully we’ll find something to head towards from there.”

“S.E. Mankio, 17th Motor Cavalry, time is 1016 on the fifth day.  We gave the poor dry bastards a cairn burial in the cave-back. Command said to pack up and head to the high point - scouts call it Huli Mea - so now we’re here. View is beautiful, and the humidity is less, but we’re frying in the sun. The whole plateau is covered in red ferns, though, and the cooks say we can eat the leaf-heads. I haven’t tried them yet. I doubt we’ll be here long, though. From this height, maybe a nonant up, by my reckoning, you can see what looks like a warehouse, maybe an industrial complex, hidden in the jungles. They’re gonna take the bikes down tomorrow, and I’m coming with; they want a Supply Efreitor to inventory anything in that warehouse. It’ll be good to get some wind in my hair again.”

“S.E. Mankio, on excursion into a potentially hostile industrial or agricultural complex, 5 dekants into the island from the southern shore. Time is 1358, sixth day. This place is eerie- scouts couldn’t figure out its purpose. It’s a mix between a chicken coop and a chemical plant, but it seems empty, unused for three days, by my reckoning. Search parties, armed, are proceeding through the complex on foot. Don’t think they’ll need me, seeing as there isn’t anything to supply or inventory. I’ll call this off for now.”

“S.E. Mankio, time is 1432, and they’ve found something. Flames, they’ve found something. There’s a column of people- maybe three score- all Reds, but they’re in awful shape- Flames, there are children… Search parties say they found ‘em in a basement, their chains broken- they’re talking to the poor folk now. I’m to give them blankets, food- they need it- but it means I can eavesdrop. They say they were locked there, by Orange traders, being bled almost dry- it’s awful- using horrifying leeches, they say, on drugged kids- say their blood has healing properties. They say someone- a group of people- freed ‘em, but told ‘em to stay there until help came- they’d been watching us since we landed. No idea who these people are- not the Arcanists, those folk were cold-hearted bastards. Doing horrible experiments, stuff they shouldn’t be tampering with… Here they come, they need food and medical help. I’ll pick this up when I know more, when I’m less busy. Flames…”

“Same day, time is 1621. Unit leader got sent in to talk to the people once they’d settled down. They’d been through Hell, these people, but they got themselves relatively back together quickly, with some hot food. Some of ‘em said they hadn’t had solid food for months. All of this. Hidden in DSRR territory… it’s a crying shame. Well. Our guy came out of that tent, and declared that the freed civilians would be heading back to the mainland with half the unit and two airships. What he didn’t announce, however, is that three quarters of our supply was going with them. Fuel, food, weapons, ammo, everything. If command pulls troops out, you’re fine. If they start pulling supplies out… Well, I don’t fancy my chances. But a Supply Efreitor goes down with their unit, usually. They’re good people, the 17th Motor, and I’ll stick with them. Not like I can desert, from an island… So we’re pressing on. Unit is shifty, the whole lot of us. Command’s been trying to keep the civs out of the troop areas, but what fragments we hear from them are unnerving, to say the least. I’m the one who deals with those people most, but I’ve been keeping our talks private. Some of the survivors say their saviors were cryptids, some cite Nosferatu, or the aswang, or a even yeti from the Blue lands. All of them point out the fangs, though, the pale skin, the horrible eyes. Some confided to me that this monstrous group communicated through only one person, who seemed reasonable, but that those who hung back had about them an attitude of primality, of hunger. They were glad to be freed, they said, but afraid that they were worse off. Well, they’ll be safe now. Command’s shipping the lot of them to the mainland tomorrow. Flames, I hope the do alright. I’ll miss some of ‘em.”

“S.E. Mankio, still hanging on to the 17th Motor Cavalry. Time is 0824. Today is the seventh day of deployment here. I hope I get to see an eighth. Scouts say they found leads to either the rest of the 2nd Arcanists or those inhuman humanitarians. Only Flames see what will happen today, even if command thinks they know. I still think they’re hiding something from us, some hidden knowledge.  I am leaving these recordings in the encampment, but I will bring the recording device with me, wherever we end up. I can only hope someone will find them.”

“I’ll dispense with the formalities. It’s night, seventh day. I don’t think I’ll make it back to base, or back home. There are airships searching, but they’re not looking for me. They’re looking for those creatures. I would call them monsters, but they are more than that. They are engineered to kill, but now they have a cause. And that is both terrifying and comforting. We found the 2nd Arcanists, what was left of them, early on. There were eight of them, arranged in macabre poses around a ritual circle. From the writings they left, we determined their purpose, why they’d come here, why they’d gone rogue. Their unit leader was making blood-suckers. Vampires. The madman said he’d found ancient texts, cultist stuff, about creating them, controlling them. Well, someone lied. They couldn’t control them. They all had holes in their necks, blood-less bastards. It was awful, up close. No color to ‘em, you could hardly say they were Reds. No trace of the vamps. No signs of combat. Just eight cold bodies and fear. Ten of the 17th broke ranks then and there. That left about thirty of us. That’s when we saw them. They’d been watching us for a week, we knew that from the slaves’ accounts. But we didn’t know they were right on top of us. They fell on the convoy, hit the people on foot- they must have thought we were with the Arcanists. They dropped, maybe, five of us. No idea how many there were, couldn’t count ‘em. They were fast. Guess command knew about that part, that’s why they sent light, fast units in this terrain. Thought we could outrun ‘em, at least. Flames… I almost got out. I was at the back, already on the bike when they hit. I gunned it, got a fair distance, looked back- it was horrifying. Good men getting drained, like flasks for those beasts, firing their rifles- they couldn’t hit them. It shocked me, I lost it, I couldn’t drive. Keeled over or hit something, I don’t know. Bike went down, I was on it, I was throwing up… Bike is totaled. Can’t fix it, not here. My leg isn’t working, could be broken. I can hear those creatures out there. They can smell me. It’s a standoff, until something snaps. And it won’t go well for me. If I’m good, if I don’t go down too fast, maybe I can send up a flare when they come for me. Show those floating fortresses where some of the bastards are. If I’m lucky, I’ll last till morning, but I doubt it. They’re hungry, I can hear it. I can see them passing through the trees, through the mists.It’s ironic, really. I’m supposed to make sure the unit runs smoothly, that the bikes run, that they’re safe. Now here I am, busted bike, no food or heavy gear, in the jungles and the dark. I’d probably fire myself… Flames above. They’re coming.”

[The audio recordings transcribed here, as well as the recording device,  were all found in the same, sealed ammunition container at the front entrance to the warehouse. The recordings, in their accuracy,  were invaluable in exploration of the island and recovery of the remains of those who died there. Contrary to what the recordings state, however, no trace was found of the vampires themselves, nor were Supply Efreitor Mankio’s remains ever discovered. No crashed cycle was found, though there were traces of an accident in the jungles not far from the recovery site of the 2nd Arcanists. No flare was seen during the night of the seventh day from any of the four vessels flying over the island at that time. Historians have long debated what truly occurred that night, with no final conclusion ever being drawn. Some say there were no vampires, some say that Mankio became one, some even blame aliens. However, these recordings form the basis of what is known about the modern vampire, as well as the only historical record of their creation, even if the writings he mentioned were never found.]