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Most of this journal is too soaked with blood to be readable.


The Journal of Jalnar Rygan

...ilera herself has arrived with someone. They say she bears a weapon capable of defeating the daemon. I do not know, but I hope it is true.

Six years of fighting. I do not remember when they stopped paying me, but I stay. Something about these Alfar. They do not speak our language, or listen to the sea and storm, but they have a sort of honor. And the Tuatha...

These dogs deserve to die. They are monstrous, like nothing nature ever blessed. I fight now because I have seen what they do, and know in my heart it must not be good.

Tomorrow it will be over one way or another. If I survive, I will go home to the Icebrine, and see my brother.