We've been on the run for what feels like weeks now. The Aetherials are always on our heels, spreading like wildfire across the countryside. The children are starving; the few bites of food we manage to scavenge on the go aren't enough for all four of us. I'm not sure how much more of this we can take.
Word on the road is that the Cult of Ch'thon is accepting members, that they have food and shelter for all. I've always pictured them as heretical lunatics, howling at the moon as they bathe in blood, but the promises of safety may be too much to pass on. Thallon cringes at the thought of being seen among the Bloodsworn, but we agree that it may be a necessary evil in order to survive. Our children deserve to eat.