Darkest Diaries : A tossed scripture

(The stack of paper sheets was found lying somewhere within the Weald. Blood is clotted and makes some passages unreadable. The writing style seems elegant, much like that of the church scribes. Maybe a priestess?)

Day 1
It seemed like the coach would never arrive at destination. The road was bumpy, and you could see how little care the woods had received in the past years. I could see hungry beasts staring at us from the relative safety of the bushes, and I'm quite sure I saw bandits attacking some poor, innocent people. Both I and Welron insisted that the coach stop so we could aid them, but the driver refused, seeming unmovable in his decision. The man kept his eyes straight on the road, pushing the horses as hard as he could. He did not seem afraid, that I will say. More... weary. And he acted like he knew some terrible evil would end us all should we stop even for a little. What could be so terrible about this place?

Day 2
We arrived at the hamlet, seemingly the only still inhabitable place in the entire estate. The new owner had proclaimed gold and glory to all who would aid in the reclamation of his property. As a matter of fact, he had started the battle for the estate himself, it was said. I must say, he seems so very different from what I heard the previous owner was alike to. So far, most of the soldiers here seem... amicable? Some claim to be here of their own volition, others were sent by the church, or forced here as part of a sentence. Any evil so great as to bring down such a powerful house must certainly be worth sending men. I cannot linger for too long, though. Welron and I are both departing on our first mission on the morrow. I should get some sleep.

Day 3
From the hamlet to what used to be the home of the estate's lord, there are many things. One of them, the place we are going to, is what they call ''The Weald''. It used to be a lush, verdant and well-kept forest. Now... Well, needless to say, it is nigh untraversible. We left early on -- Welron insisted that we use every advantage we have, and daylight may be one of them, from what he had heard at the tavern. Apparently, we aren't the first group to go there. The new lord, a man named ''Garland'', proclaimed also that groups of four would be going, so with us come a woman, and a man. Respectively, an arbalester -- which I will admit are often good to have, when they can hit more than miss that is, and... I hate to say, a bandit. A ''Highwayman'', as he calls himself. Pfft. He's a miscreant, wielding a dagger and a pistol. We'll have to watch for him not stealing anything, or stabbing us in the back. These people have no principles.

Day 4
We arrived at the Weald mostly unhindered -- the way had already been cleared by previous parties. I can still see the blood on the ground, though bodies seem to be missing. I sincerely hope it isn't the blood of some poor adventurers, or, Gods forbid, some innocent passerbies. Teman, the cutpurse, insisted we keep going forward and avoid spending time looking at anything, and Ylna agreed with him. Welron didn't protest, either. We pressed forward, until we reached a crossing. So far, everything seems to be going fine -- I don't see why Teman seems to be worried. He must be craven.

Day 5
During the day, we found the body of a man. The poor fellow was lying on the ground, in a puddle of dried blood... and he had no legs. It wasn't a clean cut -- they looked like they had been ripped off by some terrible force. There is no way to tell who or what he was even now as we are camping. I insisted we did -- I will not leave a poor soul to go into the next world without a prayer for its sake. Teman insisted we keep going forward, with Ylna silently nodding, but Welron took my side, and simply reasoned that it was about time we did more than sleep a mere hour or two. We set up the campfire, and everyone had a ration of food, though I will admit I would have liked a bit more -- Teman wouldn't budge on the subject. He said we would need whatever food we had for later. I wonder if he is going paranoid.

Day 6
It seems camping wasn't such a good idea. A pack of rabid dogs came while we slept, probably attracted by the smell of the dead body's flesh and blood. Most of us are uninjured, but I d o n 't t h i n k I a m d o i n g s o w e l l m y s e lf...
I w il l jus t take a smal l  r est...

Reviews

[Zoya]

This is quite interesting to read. With all the suspense you created, the amazing vocabulary, and the peculiarity of the piece and the unconventional idea behind it...its very well laid-out. Enjoyed it!

[Alex L. Estival]

Thanks for the review! These little short stories (Darkest Diaries) were mostly made to practice my writing in general, so it's heart warming, to say the least, that it wasn't a complete failure.

There are more of these stories, and more to come, plus they are mostly all inter related.

[Zoya]

Yup, they do seem inter related. You're most welcome. Keep writing!