An Anchorite's Report

I believe it is the 5th of the 1st Moon, 724

Dear Sentire Duscha,

I hope this letter finds you well and that your scrutiny on the surface has been blessed by the Great Mother. It is of utmost importance that you send this report to the Bastion Joan Secousse in Port-a-Lucine. I understand you respond to the Chapel of Pure Hearts in Mordent, but this is bigger than what the Chapel can deal with. I wonder if this should be sent directly to the Great Cathedral of Levkarest, but it is not in my power to make that decision.

Perhaps you may send a copy to Mordent and to Dementlieu. But please, do it fast, and append your own findings of this strange village of Vor Ziyden. I do doubt my eyes, my ears and I’m starting to doubt my memories as well now.

What we initially thought was an old labyrinth of sorts, which was already strange enough to be situated here, is a lot bigger and mesmerising. We managed to leave the tunnels and reached an infinitely deep ravine. I believe it was this morning. It’s hard to tell the time without the sun...

If this ravine has any connection to the surface, it is not visible as it is dark and misty in here and we couldn’t distinguish any apex nor bottom. It is so damp that we have dew forming on our skin and clothes. At least the air isn’t as foul as in the tunnels. One ingenious mercenary from Lamordia constructed a kind of filtering device that collects the dew, but it takes a long time for just a sip, and we’re in desperate need of freshwater.

Some of the men are starting to get anxious and paranoid, like the other mercenaries’ reports that came down here before us. From the missing mercenaries, we found some possessions, but never their bodies. There’s a constant and dreadful feeling that we’re being observed, and I am myself starting to feel paranoid. The sudden disappearance of two of our entourage last night didn’t help with our nerves.

I believe we have more chances than the ill-fated mercenaries that came down here before us, though. We’re blessed by our Lady and we have an odd pair of scouts. Ichabod, and his unnerving “child-oracle” companion, do give me the chills, but the girl seems to know, somehow, where she has to go. I do not understand what they speak, for I don’t know their language, but it sounds Darkonese. Ichabod himself claims to be from Dementlieu but his accent does not show that to be true. I must admit that I have a hard time looking at them. The girl’s gouged-out eyes profoundly disturb me. Ichabod treats her quite well, but he made clear, even though he is in general quite nice and charming, that we’re not to question him too much. He doesn’t seem to care much about us or anything, to be honest. He seems fixated about finding “that which has been forgotten”. When I questioned him about the girl’s origins, he said simply that she didn’t have much time. And dismissed me altogether. I do suspect he has ties to something bigger. I am pretty sure I’ve seen the symbol of his tattoo somewhere else, but as I said, my memory cannot be trusted any longer. The air here confuses my senses.

But I digress. The important thing is: I have true faith that this path might have been taken by our Guardian herself, in an age or era unheard of. I do believe this might be the biggest discovery about our faith since we’ve been blessed by Her. Besides the portal’s cryptic message, we have found other messages in these tunnels that are very similar to what others from our Faith have found in scriptures in the past. The writings we found so far are written on the back of this letter.

I urge you to send for help. This is not a place to be lightly explored by a small band of mercenaries. We need a strong and blessed force. We dodged most of the Legion of the Night we found so far, and I believe there are many, many more. May the Goddess protect us if they ever find their way to the surface. And may the Goddess bless us all.

Be in peace with the Mists,

Anchorite Grignon of Ste. Mere des Larmes

On the back of the letter:

“Your kind have no place in the hollow. Enter and you shall find only your destruction, nothing more.”

“You cannot bid me enter, yet I cannot turn away.”

“The innocents pay the price for your regrets.”

“Enter if you must. That which must be forgotten, shall never have existed.”

Type

Report, Intelligence