My fingers are cold… It was no trap, nor raving cultist that sealed my fate.

My End - I scrawl this, victim of cruel Fortune, who took me up on my wager for I have lost my lucky coin and I now lie helpless as my blood flows swiftly from my ruined body.

The most devout of us, Therion, prayed softly for our safety, superstitious but well intentioned I suppose.ĭay 7 - We tangled with some unruly louts.ĭay 8 - Moira has been afflicted with sickness, it must have been some rotting air from a coffin she insisted on piercing with her spade.Īs terrible as this place is, I know I will not fall for any trap nor crazed idiot. Sleep was difficult until Raeven, one of my companions, passed me a bitter concoction. We all felt it but did our best to shrug it off. I went swiftly to the tavern - others with similar interests had gathered there and I was assembled into an expedition.ĭay 6 - As we travelled from the hamlet, an eerie dread grew. When it revealed its ruined face, I swore had never seen such neglect, some buildings collapsed, and uncaring residents fidgeting uselessly. Ravens carried cryptic notes that there was a person, or persons who was pledging coin for services best left unmentioned in a hamlet I had never heard of.ĭay 4 - The road to this damned hamlet was a tricky one, both to find and to travel. Day 1 - Rare are travellers on the roads this autumn, and rather than starve I pressed my last coin into the hand of one who dealt in rumours and shadows.

Journal page darkest dungeon summary