Thick Skin, Thicker Skull

Archive Entry

Morbleu! May the loins of the Ungwana be defiled by a pox so putrid that even the rats flee in terror. Those Ungwana fiends cowered from battle and the storm swept in to save them while it dashed my own vessel against the rocks. The crew and I found refuge from the elements in a cave. It is home to nothing but bats who screech incessantly and slather the walls with their waste.

The fetid flavour of those vile creatures is allayed by fire, but their meat dismays the gut. So, when the storm is settled, I formed a party to scour the wreck for food and supplies. That was when the Ungwana sprung their trap. Only I survived that savagery. Now I sit alone in the cave. Licking my wounds and dodging bat droppings. The Ungwana draw near. If death comes, may it be swift.

Emmanuel Bastin