1st of Sickle 1277

I’m with the town guard, surrounding the witch hunter hideout. Zhenor’s idea of disguise for me? Put up the hood.

I once visited a world completely dominated by ghouls. It might have been their homeworld, or just a world they overwhelmed. Everywhere I looked were just ruins and broken machines centuries beyond us. And whole swarms of ghouls. Regular ghouls. Alghouls. Intelligent ghouls in rags, walking on two legs. Kinds I’ve never seen before or since. There were diagrams, showing differences between man and ghoul, though they were falling apart because of their age. These people might have created the ghouls, or perhaps they were just studying them to try stem the tide. No one will ever know.

We’re moving in. Time to stop digressing on ghoul apocalypses.

We briefly saw Kleinvingers. He’s fleeing through some ancient tunnels leading to Temple Isle. We’re in pursuit.

It was a busy evening. I could hardly find time to write anything down. I killed Kleinvingers personally. He was such a coward he literally pissed himself before I put the sword through him. Unfortunately, the real leader is his Hierarch, who’s all the way back in Tretogor as we learned today. Aanklager. Abigail Aanklager. Also, she’s twelve. One of the biggest menaces to civilized society is led by a little girl.


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