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#TK-ST-IS-000265

There is a bit of rustling, like someone is shifting in a sleeping bag in an uncomfortably small space.

I can't find her. No traces.

I don't know when she left, but she did. How can she be so stupid?

It's been years. Too many years. She doesn't have what it takes, not any more. She can do more good out west than over here.

Stark sighs.

I don't know how many days I've been out here. It's all blurred together without the sun. I've forgotten how to tell the damn time over here. Am I getting that rusty?

I have to head back soon, but if I go without her she might never be found again. Who knows what else I've lost while being busy with Command. I've lost my focus.

The old gear still fits well. Needed to let out some of the straps now that I've gotten used to eating again. The smell is a bit worse than I remember.

This old base. It's the first place she knew as friendly over here. Maybe she'll come by. I'll camp here for a while, then... I'll have to head home.

#TK-ST-IS-000266



I had that dream again. I was in our old base, but different. And I could tell. Everything seemed to match a memory that wasn't my own but felt so familiar and nostalgic. It was intoxicating.

I was excited. More than I ever had been before. I knew in this world they were still here.

I waited, milling about the base doing my usual duties. Then that's when I heard the trapdoor open. I filled up with a happiness that I could only dream of. My eyes diverted to the tiny, make-shift antechamber the broken walls made around the ladder. That's when I saw them.

In full flesh and healthy as ever, they filed in. It was business as usual. They were stocking supplies they had gotten from the drop point the next town over. I didn't care how odd it was that they sent everyone. All I could think about is how they're still here.

I approached to speak to them, but I found I could not. My heart welled up in my throat and my vision became blurry. I threw myself at their feet, grabbing their legs. I was sobbing hysterically, practically screaming about how sorry I was and how much I missed them. The emotions were overwhelming.

I cleared my eyes and looked up. They looked down at me with an unusually cold glare. Their faces twisted with disgust. I pleaded with them, I told them that in my reality they had died and that I was overjoyed to see them.

They just glared at me. The world grew more narrow and dark. My vision was focused solely on their disappointed faces. All the sound but their voices drained from my new world and the colors became muted.

"Maybe we deserved to die. Maybe we were bad people. Like you."

They turned to pour a supply crate onto me and I was engulfed by the void. Then, I awoke.

I don't like this dream.

Skirmish

North Gate, Falador

Undead (Aggressors), Guards, White Knights, Temple Knights

A lance of 10 undead, similar to the one whose head I sent to the labs, assaulted the main gate of Falador at approximately 03:00 this morning. In the ensuing fight, three guards and one White Knight were slain before reinforcements arrived and the zombies were vanquished.

Similar to my previous report, there was a shadowy figure out in the woods watching the skirmish. Captain Logan Stasov acquired residual teleportation readings in the woods, which have been sent to the appropriate Mystical Researchers.



I would like to renew my petition for access to the Library's Necromantic Archive. My clearance is insufficient to deal with the current and growing problem along the north road. As a trained Counter-Occult Specialist, the resistance I am facing in my pursuit of a solution to this problem is undue.

I believe it is imperative that I be granted access immediately to prevent further bloodshed to Asgarnia's forces. Please respond post haste.