<aside>
Three days have passed since we entered the city. I truly thought the stories about what happened here were nothing more than tales or the fantasies of madmen and fanatics. Perhaps I should have paid more attention.
When father and I used to come to the merchants' fairs, we would stay for a few days selling all that the land had allowed us to harvest. Now, I walk the same streets as I did as a child, and it simply feels as if I had never been here before. Few structures remain intact after the comet. I wouldn’t even want to imagine having been here when it fell from the sky. But I must say, being here now is not any better.
I keep this diary for you, Alda, you who are so eager to hear of my adventures. I shall be brief, for I do not have much more time. The captain has announced we will depart in 15 minutes, and I have not even eaten yet.
We sneaked in through a breach in the city's eastern wall. We are about twelve men. The captain and his two commanders look quite fierce. Though anyone with an eyepatch looks like an experienced warrior (except for me, perhaps, it would just make me look like a fool who lost an eye).
I have had a hard time sleeping since we got here. Not only because of the screams and cries that are frequently heard in the distance (among other much more disturbing noises) but also because it is no longer easy to distinguish between day and night. A strange greenish glow faintly illuminates the sky at all hours. Bright enough to help you not trip over what's in front of you, but not enough to declare whether the day is beginning or ending.
I must go now, it seems we might be in luck. The scouts indicate that at the end of this long street ahead of us, there would be a large deposit of strange rocks that the captain wants to retrieve. It's just a matter of getting to the other side, and fortunately, the city has been silent for a long while.
P.S.: I still keep your lucky pendant. I try to keep it hidden; I wouldn't want the rest of the group to see that I have something that might be of value.
</aside>
<aside>
Few of us managed to reach the other side. Damned scouts. Had they done their job properly, none of this would have happened. Four dead, five wounded.
What began as a calm march quickly turned into a slaughter, leaving us no time to react. They were waiting for us, I have no doubt. If it weren't for the fact that the fool responsible for marking our path is dead, I would think he had delivered us into the hands of those depraved beings on a silver platter.
They emerged from the rubble, hooded, uttering blasphemous words and names. They pounced on us. I swear, Alda, I've been close to death at least a hundred times since leaving home. I never feared for my soul, for I know it belongs to Sigmar. But this city does not belong to Sigmar; it is a land of the damned and the condemned.
When one of them charged at me, attacking with a ferocity and frenzy that seemed demonic, it wasn't my death he craved—I could see in his eyes he wanted more. Fortunately, I was near the captain who decapitated the accursed without a second thought. But even his one eye filled with deep terror upon seeing it. A monstrosity of flesh, twisted upon itself from the torso to the neck, with open wounds oozing fluids of indescribable stench. Its face, Alda. Just remembering it makes me want to flee into the night, if it weren't for the knowledge that doing so would mean death upon merely crossing the street.
You might think me mad, but... do you remember when Father returned that night from the village tavern? Remember how incredibly angry he was? The beating he gave us. I could only think of Father while looking at that monster, not because it bore any resemblance, but that fury, that hatred. It was coming for my soul, Alda, of that I have no doubt.
Regrouped with the captain, we managed to retreat, having to leave comrades behind. Many of them I did not know, didn't even know their names, but it chills me to think that they didn't die in the retreat but fell into their hands.
We are now near the eastern gate, where mercenaries seem willing to offer their services. The captain is not pleased, but he lost his best commander, and we are too few.
It's my turn for guard duty.
I must leave you now.
</aside>
<aside>
A fortunate twist.
It unfolded as we delved into the ruins nearby. I was scouring the second floor of what remained of an ancient tavern. The sole sound was the murmur of my companions in neighboring rooms or the level below. We've come to understand that silence is our only ally in remaining unseen, especially for a group as sizable as ours.
I stepped into a room that seemed marginally more distinguished than the rest. Likely, this was where courtesans brought their esteemed patrons. A vestige of saccharine perfume still lingered in the air, blending with the now familiar, yet unbearable stench of charred wood and ashes.
I made my way towards the window across the room but halted when the floorboards creaked peculiarly underfoot, unlike my previous steps. Crouching, I noticed an unusually loose plank. Upon lifting it, there it was. A small chest lay open, its contents a pile of stones the captain had fervently sought — "Wyrdstone", comet fragments. Grasping one, a bizarre chill coursed down my spine, yet it was coupled with an irresistible urge to never let go. I pocketed a small piece... After all, it was I who unearthed such a trove. I promptly sought out the captain to relay my discovery.
Curse the ingrate! If you believe, Alda, that man so much as cracked a smile upon hearing the news, you're sorely mistaken. Not even a modest reward. Thankfully, I had secured my portion beforehand. I doubt anyone here harbors the slightest bit of affection for the captain, but he's among the few who pays promptly in these parts, and as you well know, we are in dire need of coin.
We have noticed that some strange marks have appeared on the walls of the building that temporarily shelters us. We do not know when, because there is always someone on guard watching. Some strange triangles.
Lately, I feel that there is always someone watching.We must leave, it is no longer safe to stay here.
</aside>
<aside>
Two men vanished in the past three nights. No matter how many shelters we find, naught seems to keep us safe since I found that accursed chest. We ceaselessly warn the captain, but the fool is blinded by his greed, with no intent to relinquish it. Some men speak of abandoning the group, yet their intentions fade when they realize they must reach the city gates alone. For my part, Alda, I believe it best to remain silent and await an opportunity. An opportunity for what, you might ask? Verily, I know not yet. But I shall recognize it when it appears.
I have been feeling a strange itch on my back and part of my left arm. At times, it is unbearable. My skin is oddly irritated, and there's a peculiar lump. I will tell no one. I wish not to add to the paranoia, already rife with the marks on the walls that follow us wherever we go.
Remember when we played hide and seek as children? For me, that has ceased to be a mere game...
I must cease writing, a sizeable group approaches. Among them, there appears to be a priest of Sigmar. Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope....
</aside>