June 23rd, 1869

The town is in ruin, and most of the miners have dispersed. Even the town guards and police betrayed us. The few who remain are enemies, not friends. They’re stalking about the burnt shell of town hall, still hot and smoking from the fires. Those nasty slugs who call themselves men are pacing around in the ashes, chatting endlessly about their delusions of honour and truth. They speak of returning things to the way they were before the company ‘ruined everything’. We made the town great, and they’ve gone and stamped it all to dust.

Things have calmed down a little, and I’ve been skirting through the town in search of a means to contact Father. He’ll come and whip them so hard they forget what ease and comfort feels like when he hears of this. Those flea ridden peasants don't even understand that there was no Deloro before us. My Father, the brave and cunning man he is, founded this town. He saw the rich, fruitful lands and put them to good use. They’re walking on my land, spitting on my name. It's all mine! They're mine! Everything would be sitting and rotting, useless and wasted if it weren't for ME!

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I dare not reveal myself from the shadows until aid comes from the city. The barbarians are armed with fire and steel, and they are set on slashing and burning the world away. I went past the infirmary, and was met with nothing but silence. Even the odours of sickness have faded away. Whether those demented criminals have done something with the remaining bodies, or if some rabid animal has stolen them away, I am grateful for the end of their suffering. Upon inspection of the mine

entrances, I realised how bad the damage was. They’re fully sealed, and I doubt much is left of the lower tunnels, either. There are sinkholes and collapsed, muddy voids studding the roads. The same deep, cold scent as the crystal gunk spreads from the sinkhole sludge. I’ve been keeping a great distance from that mess.

At least I shouldn't have to descend into the mines again anytime soon. I suspect that once Father comes, the leftover traitors will either have dispersed, or will be imprisoned. I’m off to look for some kind of contact with the city, so that I can send for Father to come and remove me from this mess. I hope he will see what a mistake it was, ever sending me here in the first place.