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WEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
my stuff.
As you enter the room, you notice it is empty, save for a table, chair and notebook-like object on mentioned table. Walking over to it, you notice that it appears to be a journal, with a report of some kind hastily written onto it. Spots of blood along the edges of the paper tell you that it's owner may not be alive anymore, so you pull up the chair, and begin to read...
__________________________________________________________

"06,06,06.
The Army is at it again. I cannot say how much they irk me, with how often they will ban together without argue simply to end some kind of problem. However, I have managed to learn about them. More about them, anyway.

They break themselves up into groups; different factions, I assume. There are twelve of these, each seeming to be aligned with a different base task. It also appears that each faction is made up of certain species of being. One even consists of only Demons and Vampires!

The Army appears to be built up on a command of seven main leaders. Certain members of this command appear less important then the others, but I will tell my group not to underestimate any of them. Who knows what they have hidden up their sleeves.

I have learned, also, that this Army is not only one, but two! Perhaps even, at one point, three! There appears to be, in their large base-of-operations, an abandoned sector; apparently a memorial of some kind. I haven't been able to get up close, so I can't confirm what my sources tell me. However, there do appear to be two immense battleships of some kind down there, nonoperational and rusting. They are both the relative size of Barton, and have very obvious terrariums at their centers.

...

I have just heard footsteps. I cannot let this Army know about my Group. I cannot let them discover us. They cannot know about"



__________________________________________________________

The entry ends there, and the rest of the page is spattered with dried blood. Curious, you look through the other pages. There is nothing. This is the only entry.
You stand up, walking slowly towards the door through which you came to be in this room. At the frame, you take one last look at the book, watching as a gust of wind blows the pages around.

'Strange...' You think. 'How could the pages have moved if there is no way for the wind to blow them...?'





 
 
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