Darkest Diaries : Shelved Book (Part 1)

(The entries and chapters of this diary seemed to be all kept within a single book. Some pages are singed, torn or bloodied, but the book seems mostly intact, if not in prime condition.)

Day 0, The Old Road
I was alone, moping in a bar, drowning in my own sorrow. My life was going nowhere, and I was on my last coin, then...
I have to admit, the man has a gift for showing up at the opportune moment. I was just about to spend my last coin on a bottle of cheap moonshine, get drunk and off myself. With little to no reason left to live, what was I to do... but then he showed up, and picked me up, got me to a safe place. In the morning, when I woke up, he was there, reading. A tall man, with brown hair and stubble on his chin, as if he neglected shaving for a week or two. I'm not sure how long it's been since then, but... he's dragged me into this. The man has charisma, you can't deny that. The stagecoach dropped us off at the entrance of the road -- Garland had insisted on checking something. Damned carriage driver left us there, driving off at full speed. Garland simply shrugged it off, and... well, led the way.

Day 1, The Hamlet
Yesterday was a rough one. Garland insisted we keep on marching. This entire estate is in a state of ruin. The forests have grown so large they overtook most of the road -- we had to cut through bushes at some parts where the road would normally be clear of vegetation. I could hear animals through the density of the woods, and the sounds weren't bringing any pleasant images to mind. We were ambushed quite a few times by bandits. Reclaiming the estate will take much fighting and spilled blood.

Day 2, The Hamlet
Garland rounded up a few people that were capable of fighting. Though the most we could get was Alanda, a nun who had refused to leave the hamlet's church when most people left the estate. She also claims to be a ''vestal'' -- who apparently are sisters raised into fighting and supporting the troops. I'm not entirely sure how much I trust those says, but Garland seems to believe firmly enough that she can help. On the other hand, we have Ylna -- a woman who used to fight for the lord of the estate and who helped cover the retreat of some of the townsfolk when things started going awry. She carries around a crossbow, which I put more trust in than Alanda's so-called ''powers'', though I suppose both will have to make their proof soon -- Garland said we would be moving out soon. As a matter of fact, Garland is calling out : we are setting foot in the weald to clear the entrance to the remainder of the estate.

Day 3, The march ahead

It was a rough awakening, to be sure. We were given the ultimatum to sleep well and tight; we'd be marching out in the morning. And march we did -- woken up at the brightest, earliest hours. Garland grabbed his sword, put on his armor and a full helm, Ylna packed her bandages, and a healthy amount of bolts. Alanda... Alanda packed her mace. And a book.

As for me, I'll stick to my trusty gun and knife. I'll travel light, never know when I might need to make a break for it.

We set out after visiting the ''supply shop'' -- a ragged building held by the Caretaker, this creepy, grinning old man, who presented us with the few, meager supplies he could offer. Garland grabbed as many torches as he could, a few rations of food, and a key or two. Ylna, being precautious, grabbed a few more bandages, as well as a vial of antivenom, and Alanda... well, she just couldn't take her eyes off that vial of blessed, holy water. So, of course, she grabbed it, though I can't say I foresee much use to it.

Garland had us each carry our part of the burden, and we set out. Out of the halmet -- that rotting parcel of land carrying nothing but the shattered remains of what was once a bustling town, filled with... husks. The people here are so devoid of hope I'm wondering why they haven't migrated yet -- if not for the dangers inhabiting the groves.

I'll set down my quill, now. We're getting up again, after a short rest, and we're setting back out.

Day 3, Entry #2, The Ruined Church

Before we even had made our way into the thickest part of the woods, we stumbled upon an old, stone building. Garland looked at it, and grunted. We were making our way inside, and he told us to watch our steps, and to keep eyes on our backs. The place is unnerving, and our footsteps echo in such fashion that it makes me think something is behind us at every corner turned. I'll be glad to see the sun once we are out -- the place doesn't seem to have any windows, so the torches Garland brought came in handy.

Day 4, The Return Home

We made it back, safely, if with a few scrapes. The place was dark, damp and creepy; we had a few scrapes with cultists, and a band of thugs that made its way there... all raving mad, if you ask me, but overall proving pitiful fighters. Turned out it was an old church; several altars and basins filled with water, overlooked by some sort of statue. Garland would rather not speak of those shrines that were defiled by the cultists to fit some sort of... pagan god, something right out of a horror story, but.... they were there. Turns out the land isn't plagued by a curse, so much as rebellious inhabitants.

Day 5, The new arrivals

The stage coach came back, today. It seems as though some unfortunate souls found themselves on the way here. They look disgruntled, for the most part; a man armed to the teeth, complete with caltrops, an axe, a grappling hook... you name it, he's probably got it. Up next, we have a scholar, looking for a dark, out-of-the-way place to conduct experiments that might be frowned upon in more... populated, areas. I suppose this estate's as good as... they, failing to notice any particular gender, are gonna get.

The final arrival was a bit more... strange. A man in robes, carrying a skull and with a cloth wrapped around his head. He speaks like an educated fellow, so I suppose he can't be all bad, but there's something... off, about him. Garland seems to think he's good enough, so I'll defer to him.