At Your Service

( He's dead, Jim. )

[Even with the sun already set, this author doesn't intend to be seen at all. The camera is intentionally covered as the text slowly appears on the journal's page.

First comes a foreign script, written hastily in a language that the writer knows only a handful of people will be able to understand. Whether they respond is a different matter.]
( For Abyss Cast )
[Underneath it, another message, this time in the more common tongue. Might as well play dumb until he knows exactly what's going here. His mind is a little too muddled to try anything else, anyway.]

I guess we'll start with some basic questions -

Is anyone else here?

What year is it?

What direction is civilization from the river?

And what should someone be expecting to see in the woods this late at night? Can't really say I'm in the mood to get pounced on.


((ooc: For Abyss Cast's convenience: Anyone from Auldrant: Age, rank, background, really just your name will do. Respond if you can.))