Old Soldier's Journal

February 23

Common Era 616

Mine own name is Captain Jefferson Henry.  If 't be true thou art reading this, then holp hast finally cometh.  I prayeth to Pelor ‘tis not too late.

Hast been five years anon since the calamity.  The holp yond wast did promise hast still not arriv'd.  Worse, we’ve hath taken nay word from terra prime. Within a week, our nay moo answers cameth.  Whe'r thee hath sent those folk and we just couldst not taketh those folk, we doth not knoweth. But thou art hither anon, and we art grateful.

Our last pleas yond wast did answer wast f'r humanitarian aid.  Food, supplies, medicine. But since then our situation hast becometh much moo dire.

As thou well knoweth, all of our primary military installations hath been devastat'd by the volcano.  Whole climatures, others consum'd by ocean while on the western side, the depths of the ocean themselves has't risen to form new land.  Thy maps shall nay longer beest accurate.

A new foe hast arisen.  We knoweth not whither they cometh from.  We calleth those folk dark ones. These foul creatures showeth most wondrous resilience to physical damage.  The creatures doth not communicate. At which hour did capture, they cannot beest intimidat'd. Attempts to penetrate their minds by charm result in explosions of devastating force.

Their primary objective seemeth to beest to capture as many civiliz'd folk as they can.  Those yond art did capture alive art did turn and twist'd into the same mindless fiends. Thus groweth their army.  Those yond falleth, rise again as carrion. Leaveth not thine fallen comrades. Collect their bodies, burn them thout might not but.  Allowest not thine fallen comrades beest used 'gainst thee.

To the east of hither beest a stout resistance  The underground f’rt at Mount Grumman did survive and is the only chance we hath left of returning peace to our land.  Receiveth thither and join forces with those folk. They won’t last long without thine holp.

I cans’t not endure to meet thee hence.  Mine own men and i weres’t ambush'd by a pack of dark ones yesterday.  A palmy hurlyburly ensu'd and we didst prevail, but not without paying a high price.  All but five of us weres’t slain, and those of us yond remain, that fiend did’st infect with his vile curse.  We art cut off from any hope of salvation. These shall beest mine own last words. I shall not allow the information I holdeth to fall into the hands of such fiendish masters. Mine men and I shall die in a pyre to protect ourselves from this dire fate.

May Pelor bless thee in thy quest to save us from these demons.  God speed.

Sincerely yours,

Jefferson Henry, Captain�

February 23

Common Era 616

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**Best Guess translation: ==**
My name is Captain Jefferson Henry.  If you are reading this, then help has finally come.  I hope it’s not too late.

It has been five years now since the calamity.  The help that was promised has still not arrived.  Worse, we’ve received no word from Terra Prime. Within a week, our no more answers came.  Whether you sent them and we just could not receive them, we do not know. But you are here now, and we are grateful.

Our last pleas that were answered were for humanitarian aid.  Food, supplies, medicine. But since then our situation has become much more dire.

As you well know, all of our primary military installations were devastated by the volcano.  Whole regions, others consumed by ocean while on the Western side, the depths of the ocean themselves have risen to form new land.  Your maps will no longer be accurate.

A new enemy has arisen.  We know not where they come from.  We call them Dark Ones. These foul creatures show amazing resilience to physical damage.  The creatures do not communicate. When captured, they cannot be intimidated. Attempts to penetrate their minds by magic result in explosions of devastating force.

Their primary objective seems to be to capture as many civilized folk as they can.  Those that are captured alive are turned and twisted into the same mindless fiends and thus grow their army.  Those that fall rise again as zombies. Do not leave your fallen comrades. Collect their bodies, burn them if you must.  Do not allow them to be used against you.

There is a strong resistance to the East of here.  The underground bunker at Mt Grumman survived and is the only hope we have left of returning peace to our land.  Get there and join forces with them. They won’t last long without reinforcements.

I will not be there.  My men and I were ambushed by a pack of Dark Ones yesterday.  A mighty battle ensued and we did prevail, but not without paying a high price.  All but five of us were killed, and those of us that remain are infected and cut off from any chance of being cured.  These will be my last words. The information I hold cannot fall into the hands of the Masters. We shall lay down our lives in flame to save ourselves from the fate of becoming such monsters.

May Pelor bless you in your quest to save us from these demons.

Sincerely Yours,

Captain Jefferson Henry