[Kiroy]

Day 1

Drowning, climbing, my name. These are all I remember. These are all most of the Risen remember. Each one of us who have crawled out of the Well’s womb into this world is faced with the choice of decided who we are. My body remembers more. Arcana flows through my blood and I can flex it like a muscle. It is my birth right. And this paragraph is all of me.

The land itself traumatized by the past. Ruins from more than one civilization can be found scattered about. Objects of Power have been imbued with the horrors inflicted near them. We can touch these objects and glimpse their memories. These Scars cut deep into the fabric of this plane.

It is getting worse. The Darkness leaks through the cracks. The past inflicts itself on the present. The Well saves us from untimely death. But the Scars show us there are worse things than dying. Are we the cure, or another part of a cycle?

I pray we are better this time.

[Kiroy]

Day 3

The Sleeping Gods must not be allowed to wake. I dream of them, in their expansive graveyard. Nails marking each of their catacombs. Darkness comes. Their hands dig through the earth and reach up. I feel them. Not quite angry, not quite happy, not quite human. Their intentions and motives are alien and the longer I try to understand them, the more it feels like my head is being hammered with nails.

Enough liquor stops the dreams.

Their dreams leak into ours as we slumber. One has presented itself to two of the Risen. I dare not name it, but the two who claim to be its disciples are kind people. Generous, caring, brave. I fear they are being deceived by a being they believe is good. Good and evil are concepts foreign to such creatures.

The best we might hope for is that we perish before they wake.