Torn page of Terrus’s notes Page 28

The sounds of the cries of the spirits, just the sheer volume of it all, is almost maddening. I could hear their agonizing wails even in my sleep, in my dreams and in my meditations. Finally today, I left the city to search the jungle.

I spent several sleepless days out in the jungle, searching throughout the dense undergrowth, mindful of the sorrowful voices of the spirits. I was able to follow this sound as it grew louder, until I reached the ancient city of Torsis.

Here, the spirits wander among the ruins, trapped with a strange vortex of reality…something I cannot identify. I have walked among the spirits and was even forced to defend myself from them…however, I cannot help but feel pity for them. They long for release, an end to their endless suffering.

But there is more. They seem to have a fear about them…a real palpable fear. It is noticeable in their cries, and exists like a fog over all of Torsis. I searched within the city for clues, but found nothing that offered immediate clues. I did, however, find a spirit, possibly older than all of the others, jealously cradling something that looked tangible within its grasp. Whatever that is, I must have it. I will return and seek it out.