I haven't written in a while. With everything that happened here in Mournhollow, I just needed ... some time to think things through.
We stopped the sacrifices back in Mournhollow. That ... thing ... their "lake god", whatever it really was ... it came up ot of the water. I guess it was upset that the ancient deal wasn't being upheld? It started eating people .... some of the villagers fled, but a few were just ... offering themselves up to it, trying to ... appease it somehow. I don't think it cared, not at that point.
We fought it, the three of us. Wounded it pretty bad. But it was getting away, going back under the lake. We didn't know what to do -- if it got away, it was likely going to heal, and then come back for the rest of the town later. So Sparks ... he ... use his magic to transport himself out into the water. He dropped himself in, and sank like a stone. Chasing it, we think.
He must have killed it. It's been a month. No sign of it. No sign of Sparks, either.
The townsfolk, the ones who survived, are afraid. Without that thing keeping them safe, this village will experience the same hardships that every other remote village seems to be struggling with. Bandits, monsters, famine, and the gods only know what else. So most of these people are moving on. There are a few stubborn holdouts, of course. This has been their family home for who knows how many generations. I wish them the best, but I also hope they come to their senses. They'd be safer with the rest of the refugees.
Luna's not ... taking things very well. She misses that clockwork. I try to just leave her alone. When she's ready to talk, I'll be here.
We've waited as long as we can, though. We're heading out tomorrow morning. We'll try to head up north; I know a crusader citadel that's not more than a month away. Seems as safe as anywhere else, now that the world's going mad.
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