“Everything’s Gone To Hell”, pt. 1: From the Journals of Albrecht Fiddlestein

Day 187 of exile in this shithole:

EVERYTHING WANTS A PIECE OF MEE!!! Not in the “oh Albrecht, you’re soo a hand-some, please  plow me vigorously” kind of way but in the “oh Albrecht, you’re so tasty, let us drag you into our cold black den and devour you” kind of way! I’m not sure what I have gotten myself into, but if I live I am going to give that hag at the Bathory & Cage a piece of my not in-considerable mind!

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“Are Those Bells for Me?” – From the Journal of Quinn of the Kingston Barrow

I woke to the ringing of bells (looking back as I write this, I’d say that was probably the least fucked up morning call I could have expected). I was dizzy, disoriented. I had no idea were I was. I tried to sit up and, immediately upon the attempt, was sick into an empty bucket that lay nearby.

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