Phineas Whitelock's Journal
Following are the final pages from Brother Phineas Whitelock’s personal journal, recovered from the wreck of the Gannett, Jan 22nd 1000 PCE:
This foul green land is stained with blight. We tried to cut away the weed, but to no avail and soon had to abandon the tools we had used, their edges dulled to misery.
At noon I ordered Lukey and Reed out onto the sargasso mat to explore. How large can such a place be? The crew grow restless.
It is dusk. Efforts to destroy the weed have failed. I have explored what I could, but this is all mists and weed. When will Lukey and Reed return? Despite the calm, the night is not still, and I feel eyes watching me.
The night brought noises but no attack, but I fear for my brothers. I heard cries in the night—was it them? I feel something is alive here, but what can it be? Captain Caldwell claimed the land had a black heart—maybe Lukey and Reed will have some useful information when they return.
Afternoon. I have decided to find my brothers and have taken Gideon and Hiram with me. They are good brothers and will aid me as best they can. We shall find the land’s black heart.
We headed east, making good headway as only brothers can. By night we had covered many miles but saw nothing but more of the green.
It is night and I can hear life. Something moves at the edge of sight. Why do they not show themselves?
It is afternoon. We have come to a terrifying place, a forest of weed grown in mockery of real life, a mire of skeletal ships. How many souls have been lost here? Our supplies grow wan. We must return by morn to the Gannet.
It is dawn and we have returned too late. The crew are gone and the green holds the Gannet ever fast. Where have they gone?
I can hear them in the day now. They are outside. They are watching. They want me to join them, but I shall not.
Gideon and Hiram are dead. They came through the mist, yet they were not the same. I knew them by the tatters of clothes draped over the green that took their flesh. What wore their bodies has been vanquished, but I know now that these were but the children of what dwells at this land’s heart. I must seek the father at this heart, for to destroy the father is to destroy the brood. If only I had-
This foul green land is stained with blight. We tried to cut away the weed, but to no avail and soon had to abandon the tools we had used, their edges dulled to misery.
At noon I ordered Lukey and Reed out onto the sargasso mat to explore. How large can such a place be? The crew grow restless.
It is dusk. Efforts to destroy the weed have failed. I have explored what I could, but this is all mists and weed. When will Lukey and Reed return? Despite the calm, the night is not still, and I feel eyes watching me.
The night brought noises but no attack, but I fear for my brothers. I heard cries in the night—was it them? I feel something is alive here, but what can it be? Captain Caldwell claimed the land had a black heart—maybe Lukey and Reed will have some useful information when they return.
Afternoon. I have decided to find my brothers and have taken Gideon and Hiram with me. They are good brothers and will aid me as best they can. We shall find the land’s black heart.
We headed east, making good headway as only brothers can. By night we had covered many miles but saw nothing but more of the green.
It is night and I can hear life. Something moves at the edge of sight. Why do they not show themselves?
It is afternoon. We have come to a terrifying place, a forest of weed grown in mockery of real life, a mire of skeletal ships. How many souls have been lost here? Our supplies grow wan. We must return by morn to the Gannet.
It is dawn and we have returned too late. The crew are gone and the green holds the Gannet ever fast. Where have they gone?
I can hear them in the day now. They are outside. They are watching. They want me to join them, but I shall not.
Gideon and Hiram are dead. They came through the mist, yet they were not the same. I knew them by the tatters of clothes draped over the green that took their flesh. What wore their bodies has been vanquished, but I know now that these were but the children of what dwells at this land’s heart. I must seek the father at this heart, for to destroy the father is to destroy the brood. If only I had-
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