One Day Closer To The End

Today is the 3rd day of winter. The Lost aren’t receding. They do not sleep and they do not die. They’re slowly wearing out the men. If even Symon can get turned, what hope is there for any of us? I wish I could see Marietta again, even if just one more time. We had a hasty marriage, sanctified by a cleric named Dayo. I promised her we’d have a huge celebration at Geertie’s when I got back. Ach, the universe must be laughing.