Jason Andresen (order #1578489) - Jump page for Jubei

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Iron Lich
I know not who will find this, if anyone will. Perhaps I should not speak and let the families
cherish their illusions for the dead and dying here. My legs are trapped under a fallen wall and I
am fading in and out from the pain. The bones are shattered. I can taste blood on my lips, mingled
with the accursed rain. Breathing is hard. Don’t think I can last much longer, but I have to bear
witness to the horror I have seen.
My name is unimportant, but let it be known that Draime’s Raiders fought well and bravely. We
ran afoul of a Khadoran border patrol. They weren’t supposed to be anywhere near here. I t was a bloodbath.
The fallen of both companies were littered across the road, and we were forced to take cover and dig
in for the night. That ’s when the nightmare truly began.
I was huddled in a pit half-filled with mud and rainwater, damn cloak completely soaked. Beating
my limbs barely provided any heat…too sodding cold. I was watching my breath on the night air and
cursing my luck when I suddenly heard the rasping clank of grating metal. I wish I hadn’t, for
when I peered over the edge of the trench, I saw an image that will remain etched in my brain as I
draw my last breath.
At first I thought it an armored madman, so much did the rain obscure my sight ; a heavily armored
figure stooped low over a fallen Khadoran in a muddied puddle. I t held some type of odd-looking
lantern aloft. The Khadoran’s arm reached out weakly for the figure, as if beckoning for aid, but the
armored one raised a heavy staff and jammed it into the face of the dying man. A baleful green light
then manifested within the lantern. I knew not what to make of it, but then it faced our position, a
rictus grin and twin points of hellish green fire upon its grisly visage, atop a body constructed of black
iron. I t was looking at me! My doom was in that gaze.
I scrambled out of the trench and ran as it approached. Then, the screaming began. My blood was as
ice when the first howl of agony rent the air, a terrible and unholy cry. I ’ve heard men beg, heard
them shriek as their lives were extinguished in hails of fire and lead, but no agonies I know of should
be able to draw such a cry from a man. I could feel the heat, see the flames dance on the stones of the
walls nearby, feel the crackle of unnatural energy in the air. Those moments were an eternity. I did
not even notice as a sundered wall came crashing down on top of me.
Lying there, I could do nothing but watch the surreal sight of that thing stalking amid the broken
and burned bodies of my friends and enemies, flames guttering in pools on the mud. I could not help
but think the glow of its cage beautiful, so filled it was now with the lights—the souls!—it had taken
from those it had killed.
Growing weaker now…how long have I lain here? Why was I left alive? Can barely write. If
I had any faith left in me, I would pray to Morrow…but I fear I am Thamar’s now.
—Transcribed from a journal found on an unidentifiable mercenary officer of Draime’s Raiders
Jason Andresen (order #1578489) 9