Afore I kent whit happened, I wis taken frae my feet by the adult, my metal battle dress an' torso crushed within its jowls as I lashed at it blindly wi' my sword. I felt the return o' a heavy blow, an' I must have struck deep, for it flung me loose an' I flew through the dimly lit cavern, landin' hard in the darkness.

The remainin' torch flickered and died. I lay on my side, breathin' heavy an' in great pain, unable tae see my hand afore my face. My sword wis gone, lost somewhere along the rocks. An' then I heard the Guivre young snarlin' an' I got mair terrified as they advanced.

God came tae me then in the form o' a wisp o' cool air. I wis close tae the tunnel entrance!

Blind an' on hands an' knees I crawled, feelin' my way until I reached the mooth o' the narrow access tunnel. Movin' on a' fours in the pitch black, I smashed my heid ower an' again, yet continued on through that suffocatin' darkness, each precious second distancin' me frae thae demons.

In time the sounds o' the roarin' underground river faded an' the tunnel opened tae the great chasm we had descended a lifetime ago. Somewhere, high above me, wis my escape, yet how could I ascend such a dangerous mountain in darkness blacker than night?

Still, I had tae try, for if I wis tae die, I'd rather it wis frae a fall than the fangs o' the De'il.

Feelin' my way tae the chasm wall, I climbed, each handhold threatenin' tae cast me intae oblivion, each reach intae the darkness flirtin' wi' unseen ledges. How long I ascended cannae say. At times I paused tae catch a few precious moments o' sleep, at times I wondered if I wis still risin', so confused were my senses.

I never saw the daylight, but I heard the rush o' the wind. It led me tae the mooth o' the cave where the night's stars greeted me like a long-lost friend. Exhausted as I wis, I continued on, refusin' tae stop until the dawn.

Even wi' the light, I stayed far frae Loch Ness's bank.

At some point I must've passed oot, for when I awoke, wis being carried by William Calder's men. His daughter, Helen, cares for me noo, an' soon I will ask for her hand.

Meanwhile, I am haunted by frightful dreams… dreams o' death. Each dawn I awaken, screamin' frae my bed, my mind trapped in that hellhole where my eight comrades perished. The priest claims the dreams will pass, but I ken better, for the journey has scarred me for life.