Post-fall Journal written by General Vvrakard

4th Astral Moon of Glacium, Snowfall Period 9

The Scholar is gone. Where? We don’t know. She has been lost for months now, and her lack of guidance has left the Frostkin nation in tatters. We now find ourselves fighting for survival. Stuck between the Warlords army in the Nether, and the army of Humanity in the overworld. Not to mention our own people.

Without our Moddess to persevere her will over Glacium, the dimension itself may decay. A rotting carcass of a realm soon to die.

Despite that, I can still feel her out there. She hasn’t completely left this place. Perhaps she resides in her library?

My plan is to take my squadron to the quarters of the hotsprings, and regroup our assets. Until then, we must hold onto a thin sliver of hope.

4th Astral Moon of Glacium, Snowfall Period 10

Something absolutely terrible has happened. I don’t know how but a Viceroy got trapped down here in the hotsprings. I’m assuming they came down here to wallow in grief over the loss of The Scholar, and perhaps their physiology merged? While it’s a mystery, they’re dangerous. They slaughtered some of our men in a fit of insanity, wailing her name. We had no choice other than to seal them away. We were barely able to do that.

The Valkyries have either died or gone rogue. I know Gvenhildir’s been hiding out in the Scholar’s crystal, remaining in denial of everything that’s been going on. Despite all that we’ve been through, no one assumed The Scholar would ever fall.

4th Astral Moon of Glacium, Snowfall Period 11

Given our utter lack of options, my men are all exhausted from our latest trek across Glacium. Most of them are either injured, or dead. Hope is but a thin thread ready to be cut by the sharp blade of fate. Yet I still cling to that thread. For us to die here now, all of us at least, is nothing short of pitiful. I will not allow us to all perish like our lives are nothing. We must try.

The only good news is we managed to meet up with another group, this time with more women, and children. At this rate, even if ten of us were to survive, it would entirely be possible to start a new life. That is why I still cling to hope.

4th Astral Moon of Glacium, Snowfall Period 15

My men are few, but we are surviving. Glacium is no longer the safe haven it used to be. A bitter chill runs deep within this accursed dimension now, colder than it has been for hundreds of years. The bright light The Scholar used to shine upon our empire has all but snuffed out in the wake of the freezing cold. Life here is possible, but given our few numbers, not reasonable enough to begin with. Perhaps one day we may have a city here rise to power, but something about that I highly doubt. Maybe there is a Frostkin settlement out there with a strong enough willpower to fight the odds, but it is not us.

We have no choice but to relocate to the Overworld’s mountains, lest we rot in this place. The Frostkin nation shall survive, Moddess or not. It is up to us now to determine our own fate.