2 Mirtul, 1373

The earth is no longer friendly beneath my feet.

For all my life this land was friend to me, feeding the people of Bambryn and providing for all our needs. After the tragedy, I spent a year with my head in the clouds, trying to forget the pain of my loss. When I returned I expected to find an old friend, but when my feet decended from the mountain and once again felt the ground beneath them it was cold, dark and seething with a disconcerting presense I could neither understand nor explain to others.

Averiy does not seem to notice this. Perhaps his boots keep him from feeling the malevolence as I do. I am glad he travels with me, his confidence and faith are constant, where mine will fail occasionally (forgive my weakness, Crying One).

The letter I carry worries me as much as the change in the land. Hideous armies? Poison rain? Children bleeding to death upon black altars? Surely the Broken One will not let this come to pass!

Like the letter itself, the event that prompted the document will be forever etched in my mind. Brother Anton, myself and several others had gathered for silent prayer when a vision swept over them all. I alone was not witness to the vision, only the torment as my brothers, one by one, cried out in agony. Wounds opened on their bodies and bruises appeared from nowhere as if each had been struck by an invisible foe.

I am to deliver this letter to brother Nikolai at the Church of St. Sollars in Kurth, but I think that brother Anton feels that I will have some hand in finding this invisible foe, the bringer of this pain, suffering and destruction.

I know not if this is true, but it matters not. My life belongs to Ilmater now. If my deeds can somehow help to stem this tide of destruction, then I will surely spend my final breath to make it so.