Where do I even begin? This whole experience is confusing at best, to say the least. I don't know where I am, or when for that matter. I suppose I'll continue with the last date that I remember.
Marain 4324 12 CC
I will chronicle what I know which I can only describe as a beautiful nightmare that I cannot wake from. Yesterday, I swear to all the cosmos, I was scouting in the Deadlands with Fajel when the hour of twilight came upon us. We stopped briefly to begin our cereba. For the one who may stumble upon this journal, should I meet an unfortunate fate, it is a brief trance or meditation as we do not require sleep, which I will discuss later as I've encountered several who do. It is normal for one to continue regular activity for another day, or fifty-two hours by the human standard. Yet I did not find myself with Fajel. Instead, I found myself crawling out of the waters of a sandy beach, coughing up the clear liquid and discovering that I had been whisked away to some far off land which I have never seen or heard of.
Beasts here are large and mostly ferocious, with the means to flay my skin with ease. Their claws, fangs, and alien sounds were quite startling at first, for my weapons and traps were missing, my scouting partner was no longer by my side, and I stood naked and alone. More strange was the water itself, for I have never in my life seen so much water in a single place at one time. In fact, I do not believe I have seen so much of it in my life at all. Honestly, I thought that I must have been devoured by... ah, yes. I forgot that I cannot remember anything. Perhaps this is meant to be the life of paradise which is said to exist after death, a place for a soul to enjoy until life calls again. Or perhaps not.
Though, as fortune would have it, fate appears to be on my side as I found a place of gathering and was taken in by the one called Rominee Dantee; such a strange name for a person, and I hope I spelled that right. This text is so bizarre, and it baffles me how I suddenly know it. She is one of the humans I spoke of; quite a nice individual. She sounds gentle, and appears to be hard-working - perhaps one of the leaders at this place called a tavern. I met another human like her who calls himself Dameen Doovul, a thoughtful man I might say. Both are from a place they call Urth. Rominee says it is an odd, boring name, but I think it sounds pleasant. She is from Eenglind and Dameen is from Uhmairicuh, and they say their species is often at war. I hope they don't continue down that path.
Unfortunately, the best I could offer them was hardly worth their time. Kind words escaped their mouths, however, understanding that my memory loss was normal among people who found themselves on this island. Though, I fear that I may not have them back. I could not remember where I came from or much else about myself when conversing. The Peranom System was all that I could readily recall; not home, not my people, and hardly my own name. Perhaps it will come back to me. Until then, I will continue with the activities around this tavern place, though I feel a calling to venture outside and hunt.
One thing is certain. If knowing that I was in a place we call the Deadlands with a man named Fajel and a place called the Peranom System are all I am to remember for the rest of my days, I believe I may be driven mad.