(torn page)...ome weeks since we've seen anything that resembles Middlesex. We have hiked for miles and have not seen a single living soul, nor farmstead or road . Samuel is becoming more and more concerned about our whereabouts, he is certain we are no longer in the Colonies.
February 23rd, One thing is for certain I am glad the weather is more fair. The clime is altogether wonderful. Last night we marched through the last of what seemed an endless stretch of woods and have come upon a pleasant stream. Samuel Thompson and Joseph Nevitt have scouted out downstream to see if they can find any sign of habitation. We have added some sort of odd deer to our provisions. It did not run when we approached it. An easy hunt, although the meat was bitter and had an odd smell.
February 24th, Our scouts have returned. Samuel and Joseph told of a small stone fortress on the banks of the river only a few more miles downstream. It seems to be protecting a land approach to a natural harbor at the streams mouth. They saw no one and were careful not to be seen. We have decided to make ourselves known and see if the inhabitants are friendly. A decision that Timothy Burnap was strongly contrary to. Yet, Timothy has always been contrary ever since that musket ball took his ear at Braintree.
February 25th, We took a day to prepare for our revealing. We are certain now that the tower is inhabitated. We have seen a lone individual pacing the battlements, he could be Pequot, but the others highly doubt it. I suppose I should agree as what we know mainly comes from our fathers since those savages where finished years ago. But who else would be carrying a bow?
February 26th, We have revealed ourselves and have been welcomed inside! The fortress is merely a simple empty tower. Rain stained canvas is all they have to keep them covered and their provisions dry. The Indian is clearly not an Indian. His name is Syvarris and Joseph is certain he's French, but with those ears I doubt he's from anywhere near Europe. I think he might be a Bulgar or something Turkish. His accent is horrible to hear but we can understand one another. He had been trying to tell us about a doorway for several hours over dinner, smoked eels, but he finally gave up and went to pace on the battlements. Sleep will come easily tonight.
February 28th, After a few days of getting used to that high lisp of his Timothy is sure he understands Syvarris completely. Timothy told us that we somehow slipped out of our world and left our bivouac on Cambridge commons and have entered a new world. He states that the same happened to Syvarris and to several other groups from other worlds. There was a brief row about this when Samuel called him a liar but after talking further with Syvarris and then meeting some of these others, the debate was pretty much ended. In the middle of this little scuffle Syvarris interrupted and introduced us to some new lodgers. He was very careful to say that they were friends and although different would help us get home. Picture a whitewashed Franklin stove crossed with a butterchurn and add limbs. Syvarris brought in 3 men in steel suits, all in white. We were a bit astonished but we all loved to play as knights as kids, so the real surprise was when we discovered that they were empty.
March 1st, You get use to the voices after a while. Completely serene, like chimes in an empty room. And no matter how difficult a situation became, no matter how many of those blue skinned savages leapt howling out of the woods they never lost their nerve. Every shot from their weapons hit their mark. Believe me they had guns unlike any we had ever seen. No smoke, no wadding, no balls. Just a flash of blue and the enemy was chunks of meat and a lingering crimson mist. And they rarely ever missed. We knew we were nowhere near Middlesex.
March10th, Syvarris has come to us with news of dangerous portent. Several rival factions have levied troops and were marshaling to war. Our fortress was a key position and vital to using the river to ferry troops and equipment to the upper marches. He said that we should brush up on our Latin. I can't tell you how I confuse my ablative and genitive cases in the first declension nouns. Was it matellarum or matellis? We joked and spoke in Latin for the rest of the evening, Joseph was actually quite good as he was planning on becoming a priest, well before meeting Sarah Ross anyway.
March 11th, The morning mist has cleared and there is no doubt this will be my last entry. How we got here I have no idea. I don't even know where here is. We are stranded in some isolated tower with a long eared lisping gent with a bow and three walking, I can't even think of what to call them. We all miss home and now there are 3 large groups of very angry individuals camped just outside of rifle range.
You won't believe this but we count half a dozen Roman, that's right, Roman archers. Helmets, armor, arrows, the real deal. Syvarris is certain the same event that brought us here also pulled them from their time. There are many other individuals, all different and very angry. There can be no doubt, Syvaris tells us, that we will fight today, and he is uncertain what the outcome will be.
We were eating a hasty meal of venison sausage and dried fruit when Syvarris let lose a volly of arrows from the battlement. War had never been quiet where we came from but the sound of agony is the same true no matter what world your in. A shriek of pain declared his aim was true. He shouted down to us that we should get up and bring all of our ammunition with us. He continued to loose arrows out across the battlement.
The three suits of armor quickly made it to the top of the tower while Joseph, and Samuel hauled wadding and bags of musket balls up the ladder. I had just looked up to see how our archer was doing when his head just disappeared. He toppled right into the dying embers of our breakfast fire, scattering pans and smashing crockery, his bow still in his grasp.
By the time I had made it up to the battlement the entire phalanx of Roman archers had been blasted to pieces across a low ridge. The 3 suits of armor took aim at some Asian looking fellows and blew one of them all over his comrades. The other two charged for the gate. I could hear their feeble blows against that huge door. 2 of the armor suits took positions above the door and I heard this wet pulping sound as one of them was blown to bits by those blue guns of theirs. Yet in moments both of these mighty beings were cast back from the crenellations, their armor peeled back and sparking. The both joined Syvarris in a broken smoldering heap. The last one turned and began firing upon this dark knight, and it was truely a knight. He was mired in one of the many streams leading to the fortress and his armor suddenly blossomed titanic gaping holes. You could see clear through his body. He stood for a moment and looked at the morning light streaming from his chest and collapsed into the creek, water running over and now through him to the bay.
In time soon this remaining suit of armor was struck by a unseen assailant, the shattered remains of his torso and head blasted out of the tower wall. His legs slumped against the cold sweating stone. It was only us four remaining. A blue angelic being flew at the tower, massive lance in her hand, we all four took aim and it dropped like a stone.
We saw that three man like individuals on a low hill seemed to be casing all the casualties on our side and so we took aim and fired. It wasn't long until Joseph and Samuel were no longer with us. Grievous wounds those weapons inflicted, as if they had been hit with cannons.
March 11th, noonish
So it is only Timothy and myself. This will most likely be my last entry. We have decided on a rouse, the gunmen on the outside are lethal and we will be killed if we try to attack them from the tower walls. We will open the door and lure them inside and hopefully dispatch them quickly when they enter the tower. We have rigged the door to open on it's own and we have each two rifles. We can not figure how to use the suits weaponry and they are very heavy.
Timothy is pulling the rope, if we die it will be with a gun in each hand. To hell with this place.
The Mon Arac parchment seems to only to have suffered damage to the first third of the writing. Several other fragments have been found that seem to be part of this same piece but extensive fire damage has made any true conclusion difficult to substantiate. It is clear that both the remaining individuals were slain just prior to this last entry as has been witnessed by Sanctioned Temporal Witnesses. The location and time which is stated as being 102.45.21 have been marked as historically significant and forbidden to both recreational viewing and temporal tampering.
Aevum et Spatium Derigo
