Old Sarkorian Diary in a Burned Binding

Note · 40 gp · Weight 2

The diary's binding is scorched and many pages are missing. Those that remain are covered in dirt and mold. Between the ink lettering that has spread and run and the patches of rot, it is possible to make out certain phrases. "A troop brought news from the west. The plains have fallen: the clans have been slaughtered and the beasts are feasting on the slain warriors. A few survivors were found, but attempts to get them to the fortress failed. Our own warriors fought their way back with difficulty — the outlying fortifications are overrun with the scum. Only reinforcements from the east will have any chance of breaking through this noose that is slowly closing around our neck — all we can do is wait…" "…they attacked from the sky. The tower is still standing, but burnt out. Along with Zonak and the others. There was no time to light the funeral pyres — we scooped up the bodies and tossed them back behind the walls before we were caught by another wave. Rolug's squad were stationed at the deserted post — most of them have been maimed, so they're not much use on the walls…" "…they vanished into thin air. The smoke makes day and night bleed into one and watching the eastern horizon is getting more and more difficult. The hope of seeing the banners of Mendev has kept the dread of death at bay for some — without this comfort, yesterday's warriors turn into whimpering curs. The beasts lose their last grain of fear in the dark — one of the sentries was plucked right off the wall in front of five of his fellows…" "…half of the left tower is sinking into the opening fracture. We barricaded the doors, but the smoke pouring through the hole took down three of us…" "...he was spitting, guffawing, lambasting the foreign traitors and screaming that the Mendevians weren't coming. Yuno smashed the lunatic's skull in…" "...our days are numbered. The smoke makes breathing all but impossible — we sit out the time between attacks in the cellars, where at least there's some fresh moisture that trickles down the walls. Our sentries are disappearing one after another — suffocating in the smoke or snatched up by the claws of some flying beast…" "…we will open the gates in an hour. Let those who trace our final days see that the last sons of Sarkoris died standing tall…" One more page is glued in among the final sheets. The page is made from finer paper and is emblazoned with an inscription in ornate lettering. "I discovered this journal in the fortress's underground refuge soon after clearing the place of demons. The defenders of the Greengates met their deaths with honor. We could not save you, but your courage stands as an example to every person who picks up a weapon today in the name of Golarion. I vow that our newly formed Crusade, which already proceeds apace through these mutilated lands, will finish what the Sarkorians started — just as I have finished this journal. The banners of the dead will fly under clear skies once more!"