Just so you know, I have been keeping up with the thread. Bloody hell, it's awesome. Just sporadically due to real life stuff. And I vote we use the same seed to gen the world. Even had me a neat idea, if varnish wants it.
In any case, I guess it's time for another journal entry. Will it be the last? Probably not.
From the Second Book of Croaker
I guess it is my time.
I suppose I could have prevented this. I have seen the creatures of the depths before. Though no two are alike in appearance, they all share common traits other than being timeless abominations. Like all of them being immune to mundane traps.
But I said nothing. I was not involved enough. I thought Oceanbridge would be a place away from my old life. Who knows, I might have found me a frisky lass to occupy my mind (and various parts of my anatomy). But once a soldier, always a soldier, I guess.
This is my final entry. I have heard the cries coming from below. Soon that kangaroo-thing will be here, and that will be it. But I have taken precautions. Though I may not survive, the First Book, along with what little there is of the Second, will. The originals lie buried beneath my quarters, safe until Time claims them. I had made a copy of my writings and stashed it in a chest. As soon as I'm done here, I'm chucking that chest in the ocean. If there's even a tiny chance that our history will live on, I'm willing to take it.
I can hear the others out in the halls. The beast has come. I don't have much time. I never actually thought I'd get to write my own epitaph.
So ends the journey of Croaker, medic and last survivor of Punchdoors, later medic of Oceanbridge. Rakust take me. Break out the keg, lads, I am coming home.
I am putting the pen down.
Sequel hook, anyone?