My brave, handsome Edward.

I must endure. I must have patience. I must.

It would seem the only one I can actually count on is the scoundrel Royce. The assassin is the reliable one. Sweet irony.

Fubar is a complete and utter imbecile. Campbell is worse, following me around like a puppy. Once again, they nearly got Royce and I killed.

They had one simple job. One! All they had to do was safeguard our backs whilst we dispensed with the horrid Deep Ones we happened upon – Royce and I had them bottlenecked in the room. It was a simple matter of some gunpowder and knife work. All Fubar and Campbell had to do was keep the Chuuls at bay for a few moments. Then that harlot Mercy Lee came stumbling out of an antechamber, completely naked, and just like men, they had to run to her rescue – leaving our flank exposed! The audacity! I ought to leave them all to rot, or better, I should feed them to this monstrous Dhole the Deep Ones speak of!

This so–called knight is anything but. The only tenets she seems to keep are bohemian and indecorous at best, ignorant and beastial at worst – picking fights like a tavern brawler, cowering in the corner when danger arises, traipsing around naked in the surf like a cheap whore. Fubar isn’t any better – a dimwit and as useless as teats on a bull.

Whatever justice the fates bring down upon these heathens they most assuredly deserve. I for one won’t interfere on their behalf when it does.

I cannot wait until I see you again Edward.

Yours as long as love shall last,
Caitlyn Elizabeth Stirge