On the eleventh day of Celebration, the Brethren Court gave to ye... a Recovered Journal Entry!
The sound of pick hitting iron was ringing in my ears… so monotonous, but such is life in these mines. If our Captain demands it, we shall follow his will. I’m quickly realizing that didn’t apply to all of our crew though, as I later found out.
I’m not quite sure what there is to describe what I heard, an animal-like scream and swords clashing is what next rang in my ears. I knew it couldn’t be good, so I picked up my sword and ran towards the commotion with my compañeros…
It became clear what had happened, traitors in our crew had mutinied against El Patron. They came to bring our end in the night, but we were blessed they weren’t quiet, and thus, the fight began. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel fear at that precise moment, but you learn to.. put it away.
I don’t love using these cursed blades, but in the moment of a fight… the power is intoxicating. Moments like these I find myself rationalizing the use, because no other blades are near as effective. The tide had turned in the fight rather quickly, for we are Patron’s most capable fighters…
It didn’t become any easier for us. The remaining traitors had escaped and blown the tunnels behind them, we were left stranded from the Captain, unable to warn him what was to come. We were left to our fates, with only a few traitors left behind to question.
We quickly found out this was planned for a while, led by none other than Cicatriz… I should’ve known she was capable of this. Not only capable, but willing! She worked the schedules and knew the precise moment to launch her attack and leave the Captain stranded from his most capable and loyal crewmembers.
We had hoped the Captain would once again triumph as he did over Smasho and come to our rescue, but when the rocks didn’t come tumbling down, it became clear our fates weren’t meant to see good fortune.
We set to dig ourselves out, but the longer it took, our resolve began to fail… we failed our Captain. We failed El Patron.
The Lieutenant has once again cut our rations, hoping we will see freedom and preserve our hope. I know we are done for… to whoever reads this, know we were loyal. I died loyal. If you find my corpse, give me a proper burial. I curse those mutineers for everything they stand for. May they never rest peacefully…
-DDC