The darkest night...

Kaleigh's journal:

I set off to skulk about for the Dourhand scouts under cover of darkness. As soon as I left the encampment, a storm with far more fury than the one of a couple of days prior began to brew. Cold drops of rain stung me like needles that bore deep into my skin, as I climbed hill after hill. I searched for campfires, tracks, or anything that might provide insight as to where the scouts may be hidden.

The ground soon turned to mush, and I tumbled down the hillsides more than a few times as my footing gave way. The night seemed endless, with no ray of light from above or on the horizon to raise my spirits, save for what moonlight could escape the haze and clouds that threatened to smother the land. Whistling winds blustered around me, seeming to wait until I was off-balance, then swirling about with the hope of casting me down to the muddy ground.

As I toiled away in the muck, I eventually came to spot what appeared to be an old, abandoned watchtower or warning beacon atop one of the greater foothills. I realized I could not last out in the storm much longer. Though I knew I was taking a great risk of being seen climbing that high, I decided I had to take the chance.

I began the treacherous climb with great caution, as the rocky slope was slick with rain and mud. As I drew nearer, I saw a great pile of wood stacked in the center of a small enclosed space with what appeared to be a roof overhead. The thought of taking shelter from the bitter rain overcame me and, throwing all caution to the wind, I used what was left of my strength to quickly gain the top of the hill.

As I came to the crest of the hill, the sight of the wet wood pile and the tiny remnants of a roof that had given way to wet ivy took a few moments to sink in. When it finally had, I collapsed to my knees, my strength all but gone. Finally, I stood up and entered the structure, looking for signs of the Dourhand from the vantage point I had sacrificed so much to gain. I stood, shivering in the dark, and looked in every direction but still saw nothing.

Despair took hold of me. I sank to the cold ground, leaning back against the wet timber pile and began to cry. In that dark place, all of my past failures came back to me: how I had failed my parents, the village, the Longbeards. How, after all this time, after all that I had supposedly done for good and all the friends that I had made, did I find myself in this cold, dark, and forsaken place alone?

As I thought of how much I missed my family and Beckham and how I had failed them so terribly, not only that one night but in so many other ways, my anguish came bursting forth, and my body was wracked by involuntary, violent sobbing. I raised my eyes to look into the tempest that churned above me, and I wept so that my tears intermixed with the rain that fell upon my face until the two were indistinguishable.

Finally, I curled up on the icy stone floor of what was left of the beacon and cried myself into a restless, fitful sleep...

Kaleigh