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Book Information Captain's Log of the Intrepid Guar
ID	8197
Collection	Scholarium Scribblings

Captain's Log of the Intrepid Guar

by Captain Turseth Garil

A log of an ill-fated journey

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Here written is the log of Captain Turseth Garil aboard the Indoril merchant vessel, the Intrepid Guar.

19th day of Rain's Hand, 2E 572
Pleasant gales and smooth waters as we leave Necrom. Our destination is Lilmoth in Murkmire, with a healthy cargo of weapons and armor for our new Argonian allies. We hope to make port by Second Seed.

20th Day of Rain's Hand, 2E 572
Our fair weather continues to hold steady. The crew caught sight of a few Argonian fishing boats off the coast of Deshaan. Friendly smiles abound. Well, I believe they were smiling.

21st Day of Rain's Hand, 2E 572
Strange fog coming off of Black Marsh. Tinged green with an odious stench. We've decided to steer the ship further out to sea in hopes of finding the fog's edge.

22nd Day of Rain's Hand, 2E 572
The fog persists and we have yet to find its edge. For fear of being swept out to deeper waters, I've instructed the crew to return to our southwestern heading in hopes of spotting the coastline.

23rd Day of Rain's Hand, 2E 572
The fog persists. I've instructed the crew to release two tenders, tied to the ship, but given enough slack to venture twelve yards to the east and west. My hope is that we can avoid damaging our hull should we suddenly come upon a reef or rocky coastline. The crew will take four-hour shifts aboard the tenders.

24th Day of Rain's Hand
The fog persists and I've lost all sense of where we are and, without a clear view of the stars, I can't get a proper heading.

25th Day of Rain's Hand
We lost a crew member. He was aboard the western tender. A young boy, Uvren Faram. I knew his father. Some of the crew say they heard him screaming. No one wants to continue shifts aboard the tenders, but without scouts we run the risk of marooning ourselves on a reef or sandbar. I will volunteer myself for tender duty. I hope this will inspire confidence in the rest of the crew.

26th Day of Rain's Hand
During my shift aboard the western tender, I thought I caught a glimpse of the stars through the fog. It was just a moment, brief enough that I can't rule out a hallucination. What I saw! I did not recognize those stars.

27th Day of Rain's Hand
The ship has been caught in some sort of current. The force of it was monstrous, as if the ship was suddenly yanked across the sea. Thankfully we were able to bring the tender scouts back in before the current tore the tenders loose. We have no clear understanding of where this current is taking us. I pray its out into clear waters and not the razor edge of a cliffside. Regardless, we're securing the crew in the galley and bracing the ship for impact should the worst come to pass.

28th Day
The current is pulling us in circles. It was gradual at first, but as the hours pass it becomes clearer and clearer that we've been caught in some sort of tidal whirlpool. But, if that's the case, it isn't like any I've seen before. The scale of this must be, has to be, massive. Impossibly massive.

Update
The boat is creaking. The whirlpool is straining every strut and rivet and a storm seems to have found our little ship. We're all scared. I just want the spinning to stop. Please, make it stop.

1st Day Marooned
I'll do my best to recount events. As we took shelter in the galley, there was a great cracking sound, like thunder. My second believes it was the mast snapping in two. After that it was a cacophony of sea spray, fracturing wood, and screaming. I must have blacked out. We awoke on a shore surrounded by debris from the ship. Of the twenty crew members I commanded, seven have been found. I assume the worst for the others, but we have yet to find their bodies.

We've yet to determine where we are. The vegetation is thick and dense, a jungle unlike any I've seen. I'm wary of leaving the shore, but if we don't find more supplies soon, we'll have to venture into the jungle for food.

5th Day Marooned
The insects here are massive. Dartwings the size of adult scribs. And the beasts? Impossibly large, scaled monstrosities. Lizards the size of hillsides. So far, they don't seem bothered by our presence, and I'd like to keep it that way.

7th Day Marooned
We've nearly exhausted our supplies and there's still no sign of edible vegetation. There's talk of hunting some of the smaller lizard beasts, but I worry about angering the herd.

12th Day Marooned
We found Venasa Oril screaming beneath the shade of a strange tree. It seems she tried to drink its sap. There's talk of—but no. We'll bury her. Near the shoreline.

* * *
Does it even matter?

We've walked along the shore for weeks in hopes of finding some sort of settlement or more debris from our wreck. The large insects have made for a decent supply of food, but I can feel myself withering away with every passing day.

* * *
They're all gone. And I'm struggling to remember their names. I have to keep going. For them.

* * *
There is no horizon. Only stone. Star of Azura, am I underground? Have we been underground this whole time?