Jack:

What is there even to write? I arrived by the edge of death, and have continued along it since I got here.

But that seems to be the catch with this place, isn't it? The price of kindness and kinship. I do not miss the moonsea.

This being is a scourge. To everything she touches, everything she collects.

Shadow and stars, blood and rot. It all must be destroyed.

What started as a mishap during an autumn festival has spiraled into the uncovering a plot from this horrid monster.

She is an aberrant, and we will stop her.

We were requested by a loud, sturdy fellow ( whom I believe is a member?) to request an artifact that was stolen. We were sent through a portal through the shadow fell, a shortcut, he said.

We met a group of travelers, fortune tellers that spoke of misery and loss and woe. It was here our mission became doomed.

Traveling through the dark realm was expectedly dangerous. Weakened from undead, a headless rider upon a flaming stead was able to fell one of our own. We ended him in kind, but the travellers warned it would return.

We passed through another portal out of the realm and into the eastern desert. Here, we found the hideout of the members apparent followers. The site was a massacre, and the artifact had been stolen by sharan worshippers.

Failure.