I, Baran, son of Galhad, being of full age and sound mind and memory, do make, publish and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament. We shall soon meet a cosmic abomination in battle in a place truly outside of all that is Good and Meaningful. Our chance of success, even by God's grace, is slim.
To my good friends and allies, Veritania, Sirus, Drox, and Al-Hezmin, I bequeath to you my staff and platemail. May you use it to seal the great evil that haunts these lands.
To my brothers and sisters of the Templar faith in Exile, Herules, Gomin, Cassia, and Landren, I bequeath to you my home in Oriath, that you might never be without one again.
It seems we may never leave this strange place. Our guide claims the device we used to come here has been broken and cannot be fixed, and that it would take a miracle for a path home to open. Unfortunately, we know the value of miracles.
I can only hope that perhaps some intrepid explorers will discover this place and see to it that this letter finds you, though that could be a thousand years from now.
How I wish I could have spent but a few more moments with you, and felt your hand in mine just one more time. Fate has seen to it, that like our days in the Courts, duty must come before desire.
What transpired here in this strange and twisted realm is beyond comprehension. An evil older than time itself roamed these lands feeding on the memories of Valdo Caeserius, a son of Oriath.
Alas, the fiend that fed upon him was powerful beyond measure, and unerring in its desire to spread what we discovered was known as the 'Decay.' I know not how long we pursued the demon. Long enough that my allies began to show signs of madness. We'd surely have fallen to the evil were it not for Sirus' courageous leadership... and his sacrifice.
We could find no way to slay the demon, though we tried countless times. It was the daughter of Valdo who found a way to seal it, though it cost poor Zana her father, rest his soul. Our gambit would have failed were it not for Sirus. The demon would not give in, clawing its way from Zana's device. Sirus... He leapt onto it. We saw the demon tap into his body, at last relinquishing its grip. Sirus and the demon spiraled into the trap and out of our reality. Both gone.
Then Sirus was there once more. None of us witnessed his return. His eyes did not move, he did not blink, and his mutterings... Mad and unceasing. Then his face contorted in ways I'd seen only from men possessed by the black spirit. He struck at us again and again. We could not restrain him. We had to flee that place. That is when we discovered our path home was sealed. Valdo's daughter had sabotaged our return.
I do not know how long we have been trapped here. Weeks, at least. Possibly years. Time in the Atlas is a mirage.
Please, dear reader, if you have an ounce of sense in your body, do not dwell here. Return to Oriath, or wherever it is you are from. Tell of Sirus' heroism and sacrifice, and leave him, and us, to die with the secrets we uncovered.
He has gone silent. At long last, he has finally ceased his mad mutterings.
It was inescapable. No matter where we tread, where we hid, where we sought solace, his mutterings found us. Even when we splintered, his voice wrapped around our heads like a snake, squeezing every other thought into warped shapes. I could not hear God's whispers with such constant noise.
I dare not visit him now. I want only to escape this prison and punish that insolent blasphemer, Caeserius, for her foolishness. Then, perhaps, I will return here with an army, and take the Atlas. What better show of faith is there than the establishment of a nation in God's name? And then? Whatever God whispers.
He has shown me a door. The stones. The paths they reveal. I need only find the right key.
God almighty, I am your servant. I am your sword. I am yours, mind, body, and soul, and I promise I will deliver unto you all you wish to have.