pray my body does not fail me before I am able to
complete this most important missive. I pray as well
that, somehow, the heroes who once before saved Skara
Brae will find this accounting and act upon it. I
leave this record so those who come after will know
what horrors that the Mad God Tarjan has perpetrated,
and so that they will not be lulled into believing
that Skara Brae was his sole target.
can I describe that day. Nay, it did not begin like
all others, for on that day we celebrated the victory
over Mangar that had so recently liberated our city.
Bards from the world over arrived in Skara Brae to
play and herald the brave deeds of those heroes who
saved us. The townspeople danced in the streets with
happiness, and the great festival filled all with an
overwhelming joy of life and renewed hope for the
Mangar's Master, The Mad God Tarjan, arrived to
reduce our day of celebration into a day of mourning.
His shadow sank the city into pitiless black
oblivion. Foul creatures that had festered in his
flesh like maggots burst forth to assault fair Skara
Brae. People ran, but could not run swiftly enough to
escape. Tarjan's minions left none untouched.
the shakiness of my script, for life ebbs painfully
from my body as I write. Tarjan, mocking my death
curse, told me Skara Brae was merely one in a series
of conquests he had long contemplated to complete his
revenge. He laughed when I said heroes would come to
destroy his mad plan, yet I sensed fear in his voice
when I promised that the legendary Hawkslayer, and
those who defeated Mangar, would return again to
triumph. As payment for my threat, he gave a swift
twist of his jewelled sword into my belly.
must be stopped. Whosoever reads this, you must get
word to the heroes. This will be their greatest
challenge, for upon their efforts rests the fate of
more than Skara Brae, more than the Six Cities of the
plains. Their failure will mean the extinction of all
life - save for the wretched Tarjan and his servile
parasites. Pray for success... and life renewed.