Third letter from Reinald

O.

Had to sit for a spell. The priests still won't open the gate and my strength is fading. My body feels like it's on fire. I have no memory of the past… hour? Day?

I'm trapped in this darkness, haunted by foolish thoughts with no way to distract myself.

Remember when we learned to hunt ghouls? The folk in that village believed necrophages to be "the dead arisen", animated by foul magics. Hah!

Wanted to ask you what will happen if I fail here... but I've suddenly forgotten your name... Osmar, was it? Omunds. Amund?

Osmund, yes! Gods, it's so clear now, but for a moment then... nothing. A gaping hole in my memory. Not an inkling of who you are.

Starting to think I will never leave this place.

R.