Jeirmun's Work Log

Summary

 * Location: Rkindaleft, Wrothgar
 * Author: Jeirmun
 * Collection: Orsinium Archive

Content
Didn't expect to find anything living down here—but Orcs, or something like Orcs, attacked us on sight. We pulled back to regroup. The mercenaries went ahead to clear a path.

* * *

Cinosarion is obsessed with these pale Orcs. I just want to sleep, but I can hear him muttering over one of their corpses. Disgusting.

Seems they are Orcs, after all, but they've been broken and changed. The Elf has a theory. He said the scarring suggests they were carved open and closed up, again and again. Some are missing limbs, or other parts. I don't want to know.

* * *

I can't sleep.

* * *

Glurbasha and Dorand are arguing again. He wants to push on. She wants to leave. Can't say I really blame her. There's something off about this place.

Dwarven ruins are always foreboding, but this one is different. The parts that open to the sky feel somehow oppressive. Threatening.

* * *

I keep catching a voice in the back of my head telling me I'm trapped here. That I'll never leave.

I need a drink.

* * *

Found a journal written by whoever cut up those pale Orcs. I can hardly comprehend what he has written. I'd show it to Cinosarion, but then I'd have to talk to Cinosarion.

* * *

I lost the journal. The constructs had ignored me, but ever since I picked up the journal I noticed they were watching me, following me. I tossed it down and hid in a cave—they stopped their pursuit.

I need to find my companions. I need to get out of here.

* * *

We should not have come to Rkindaleft.