[Excerpt from a worn journal]
The Whalers came in greater numbers last night. We ran as soon as we heard the odd sounds they make, but half of our men fell before we could scatter.
Larrion says they aren’t whalers at all, but cultists hiding their faces behind masks from the old oil processing factories. We should have moved out when they first started skulking around. They’re after the old Chamber of Commerce building for the same reasons we settled here. It’s secure, fairly dry and there’s a tunnel underneath leading straight to Rudshore Gate.