Ah, what day is it today? They have all run together I’m afraid. I no longer trust the gods, Multea my love. Vengeance eludes me and my prayers go unanswered. Every night sky is as the last, empty and dark, for you are no longer with me. Even the stars seem dim as if in mourning. Your death has changed me more than I can say, my heart is hard and my soul cold. Search as I may I can find no word on Surgt’s location. Writing his name makes my hand tremble in rage, and saying it makes the bile well up in my throat. His days are numbered. I can hear your voice as if you are here with me, and I know what you would say to me sitting here, knowing what I’m about to do, but I cannot listen. I set sail tomorrow for places unknown. I cannot rest until the traitors head sits atop a pike. I wish, at least, you could have seen the ship. I know how you love them, though this one may have made your breath catch in your throat and your blood freeze in your veins. It is an extraordinary vessel to be sure but there’s something… something wrong about it. They call it The Heart Of Hell, and I fear it will be my only home for quite a while. The time of my departure is drawing near, and I must depart. Even though you are not here it calms me but a little to write to you. Farewell, until another time my love.
Multea, the sea is a disagreeable lady to be sure. I am far more suited to traveling by land, but I have gotten somewhat accustomed to the incessant rocking and creaking. The captain, Krail, is a good man if a private one. The crew is another thing altogether: Pirates my dear, bloodthirsty and dirty. There are some who seem to have more whits about them than not, I shall try to talk to them and learn what I can in hope that it can speed my deadly errand.
The gods have surely forsaken us my love. We have been swallowed whole by the sea, only to arrive in a world of blood red nightmare. There seems little hope, Krail has been shot and for all I know I am dead and serving as a meal for some fearsome fish. Frighteningly, everything seems real. Too real. I and what are left of the crew are deliberating about what to do next. What I wouldn’t give for the feel of a fistful of soft earth in my hand and the smell of spring grass.
I scarce believe it myself, but I am in the midst of a hundred talking bird-men. Kenku they call themselves, though it’s hard to understand them. Their look is unnatural, though they look frail enough. I believe a good blow to the head would put them down outright. Perhaps they know of a way out of here though, of the abyss, out of Choire’s realm. I don’t wish this fate on any other mortal. A human by the name of Telemachus Pelagic has assumed leadership of our ragtag group, and although he looks like a twig in the wind his words are sharp enough. I am not much use in the ways of speech-craft so I must make up for it in other ways. Hitting things, most likely.
My world is a black dream, Multea. I have fallen into a deep depression. This place, this realm leeches the life from you, drains you of your hope of ever seeing the mortal world again. I must confess I have allowed myself to become useless. While I succumb to myself here the rest of the crew is abroad finding a way out of this place. I wish I had the strength of will, but it is a hard thing to come by in the abyss.
It has been a while since last I wrote in these dirty pages, though how long exactly I cannot tell you. I have wallowed in my own decrepitude for these many long nights and I am sick of myself. What has happened to the strong man I once was? You would be ashamed to look upon me as I am. Once, I led a hundred strong Goliath men against twice that of the goblin tribe, and what am I now? A weak old fool. No more. We have acquired a second ship, the Jackdaw and I have new information my friends must know. There have been great events here and they must hear of it. I will aid them, and in doing so perhaps redeem myself and help deliver us from this place so that I may continue the search for your murderer. I won’t allow myself to fall so far again, I am renewed and a cold fire burns in my veins. Onward, onward to death, ruin or triumph. Whatever finds me first.
I have found my crew-mates, and not a moment too soon. They thought to take on some fearsome apes without my aid, how foolish! Though perhaps they can be forgiven as they thought me lost to my solemness, which they did not mention and for which I am thankful. You should have seen the ziggurat my dear. It was incredible, Fashioned by some lost civilization at the beginning of time, or so it seemed. It housed a mighty secret thought, and in it’s depths upon his throne of skulls sat the Ape King Zod, frightening to behold. But we persevered, and with a tenacity unrivaled we beat him down and threw his body into the great fires below while rescuing our prize, a strange girl that I have not seen before. Perhaps my companions can illuminate me further. Captain Telemachus and the Machine Man Icoso have gone to speak with the succubus, and I wish them well though I doubt they will return. In the meantime we wait, and I write.