Grimvault Investigation Day 031

Can it truly be a month since we launched this ill-fated enterprise?

There is nothing living here in the Grimvault, at least not as we know life. There is movement here, murder and gore being spread by the tentacles and tendrils of something raw and evil. Beasts of corrupt origin spit forth from foul spawning grounds and the eyes....

The eyes. Watching. Always and forever, watching. They are everywhere. Watching from the stalks, watching from the grasping fingers of the great one who watches over all. The Entity which no living thing can know, not if that living thing wants to survive.

I have no way of knowing this. Yet I do. The Medics on our expedition believe I am showing signs of stress. They say I may break. Someone else should take over.

I fear our Medics may be lost to the Entity. Perhaps they will have to die.


Grimvault Investigation Day 032

The Medics attempted to ply their foul potions on my form today. This will not be allowed, must not be allowed to happen. I cannot allow it. If I do, he will be... displeased.

When the Entity is displeased, he eats. Eats lives. Eats souls. Swallows them whole.

We have lost six since yesterday. No one who will be missed. Guard. Porters. An apprentice. I should miss the apprentice, but I will not. I should honor the guards, but I cannot.

What is happening to me?


Grimvault Investigation Day 037

Yes. I can...speak into. This. Thing. I can...speak. I will...speak. The song of the Strain is mine to hear, now. It calls. I speak in reply. I speak.

Speak to me, lord of the Skurge, defiler of worlds. Speak to me with blood and disease. Death and corruption. The Strain.

It is all one. And we, we foolish small mortals with our foolish, small wars. We. Are going to. Die.