March 24th, 2005


First Mate's Log (Supplemental)

I rewrote this entry because it was starting to sound a little too much like a Lovecraft story, so that it does sound pretty much like a lovecraft story.

"Day 4: Morale is increasingly poor among the crew. Three more men have fallen ill today, and the improvement I noted in my own condition now seems to have been temporary at best. The foul weather has continued, with a cold driving rain our only relief from the snow and hail of the previous day. It has been days, perhaps weeks, since the sun has been visible in the sky; The dull glow of the clouds becomes stronger at midday and weaker towards the evening, but we are left with varying degrees of twilight in place of days and nights. Even with my own detailed logs, each marked against the ship's clock, it is difficult to measure this gray expanse into ordered units. It seems both longer, and, at times, much more strangely fleeting, than the dates and times my own scribbled notes would suggest. My eyes burn with the strain of following the instruments, but without them, we would lose our course, as well as the sun. Though I no longer trust the state of our progress, I fear that abandoning my post would only worsen our condition... I suppose, an irrational fear that without a witness, the sky and sea might conspire against us further. And I suspect that perhaps it is my persistence at the wheel that has kept me from succumbing completely to the illness that has struck down the rest of the crew."
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