Tiani's heart fluttered. What the fuck was that? She crept to the edge of the trail, shining her light up the dark, tree-lined path. Maybe a bear?

There was nothing there now… but something had been there a minute ago. She caught a heavy whiff of decaying fish in the swirling wind.

And then the heavens opened up overhead, drenching her in a summer squall. "Terrific." Tiani yelled up the path as loud as she could. "Joel! Joel, help!"

The cloudburst rose into a crescendo of splattered leaves, swallowing her cries.

Wind lashed at the limbs of pine encircling the rest area, scattering the garbage at her feet.

"Joel! Hello! Can anybody hear me?"

A spiderweb of lightning answered her, igniting the heavens, revealing the shadowy figure, now poised at the edge of the clearing. Tiani Brueggert looked up in horror… and screamed.

The Diary of Sir Adam Wallace

Translated by Logan W. Wallace

Entry: 24 October 1330

I can only estimate this date of entry, no' that it matters, for I fear my words will ne'er see the light o' day nor another's eyes. Still, whit mine have seen… scarcely can I steady my hand to record the tale.

When last I wrote, the Knights were hard at work, assemblin' an iron gate meant tae block the Guivres' exit tae the North Sea. The cavern's air had grown heavy wi' smoke frae oor torches, an' Sir Iain wis close by, busy preparin' a meal o' mince an' tatties. The scent o' the meat caused my stomach tae gurgle, when suddenly a terrible scream shattered oor calm an' I dropped my quill.

Twis Sir Michael Bona that screamed, an' by oor torches' flickerin' light I saw him—his body raised above the edge o' the overlook, caught within the powerful jaws o' the most ungodly creature I could e'er imagine.

It had risen frae the underground river, its enormous head, ten times that o' a horse. Its fangs were sharp an' curved, the largest teeth barbed, positioned ootside its hideous mooth. Nodules covered the top o' the skull, taperin' doon a thick neck, the remains o' its body remainin' hidden in the water.

Grabbin' my sword, I lunged at the beast, inhalin' its horrid stench even as I lashed at its throat. My blade sliced its oily dark hide, but could barely penetrate against its heavy coat o' slime.

Stunned by the blow, the creature released Sir Michael and submerged, its immense tail loopin' oot frae the river an' slappin' wildly at the surface, the icy splashes drenchin' us… an' oor torches.

Cast in darkness, we were at the De'il's ain mercy.

I backed carefully awa' frae the edge, drookit (wet) an' shiverin', unable tae see my ain hand afore my face. Sir Michael lay by my feet, his gurglin' cries drooned in his ain blood.