Obsidian Journal

The Obsidian Journal was a secret text, written by Kuni Shunsuke who made forbidden journeys into the Shadowlands and wrote of what he saw there. Kuni Shunsuke committed seppuku to silence the call of the Shadowlands.

Excerpts

 * “The swordsman bled from two dozen cuts, each of which would have brought down any samurai. Finally, one last spear from our bushi found his chest, and he died.” “I swear to you, he did die. I am sure of that. Yet I can scarcely bring myself to write what we witnessed next, as his corpse dragged itself up to stand and face us again. It was only through use of a torch that we were finally able to put an end to him.”
 * “Sakori is lost to us. During our recent excursions, she gradually grew more and more obsessed with the thought of using the enemy's own power against him. She pored over every scrap of knowledge we acquired, following it down ever-darker paths.” “I was brought news this morning that she was gone. She has been found nowhere within the castle, and none along the Wall have reported seeing her. Her bed was not slept in. I can only assume that she's out there somewhere, in the Shadowlands, drawn further away from who she once was with every step.”
 * “We sent a patrol out yesterday. Only Akihiro returned. He says that one by one, his comrades fell to a series of mishaps. Ome was bitten by a snake. Yayoi fell from a precipice. Kanbei drowned in quicksand. It was as if fate had abandoned each of them, save Akihiro.” “He will bear closer watching.”
 * “A man was killed trying to get over the Wall today. At least, it appeared to be a man. When our soldiers cut him down, his blood was putrescence itself, flowing like poison from his body, and those whom it touched fell ill.” “Five guards are now struck by this grave sickness, and our monks tend to them as best they can.”
 * “Even now, I know that the fingers of shadow have reached too deeply within me, for although I am surrounded by family and clan, I feel no kinship. They seem distant to me, as if viewed through a glass. I wonder how much of myself is truly left.” - Final entry of the journal