Explorer Lozok's Log
Crimson Isle Expedition, Day 17

I should never have come here alone. This place has nothing to offer but a useless death and pain without honor. Foul beasts that infest the amazing technology and golden glory of Eldan secrets long lost.

I speak, of course, of the vicious scrab. Their poison is pure distilled agony, their claws vile and infectious blades. I killed them by the score when I first arrived, and they fell easily to my blade. But no matter how many I slew, more of them came. And soon I saw that the scrab I had slain upon my arrival were but the young, untested warriors of their kind. Once they were dead, the true nature of my enemy was revealed.

Monstrous in size, vicious in intent, they gave no quarter and neither did I. Yet they had the advantage of numbers. It is as the Warbringer says: a fight with no objective cannot ever be a victory, and this fight serves no purpose. For the poison is in me now, and it has laid me low.

I cannot raise my blade as the vile substance burns through my veins. I can barely breathe, let alone fight. This is not the way for a Draken warrior to die. But die I will.

If you find this and your blood is Draken, if you read this and you are moved to return my bones to join my ancestors, I say no! Do not. I am not worthy to rest next to those great Draken of old. I have been a fool. Unprepared. Arrogant. And in coming here against the orders of my superiors, I have wasted a life that could have served the Dominion. Now it ends.