BOG LORE // SECURE COMMS LOG [0637-HOURS]


[0637-HOURS] ENCRYPTED CHANNEL: MARSH-NET // SECURE COMMS LOG
S: Bog, this is Selector. Come in, over.
B: Solid copy, Selector. Report your status, over.
S: Did you receive the latest intel packet?
B: Affirmative, they’re out conducting patrols again.
S: Copy that. They adapted to the road.
B: Noted.
S: Though—they can't ride for shit.
B: Stay sharp. Don't underestimate them.
S: Think I lost the survivor.
B: For now, it will attempt to track you.
S: Acknowledged. Diversionary route or proceed to coordinates?
B: Continue to destination. Lose it if you can.
S: It won't catch me.
B: Then it will be forced to report back.
S: Bog... the storms, they paused the...
B: I know, compromised our march progress. 
S: At least they halted the carrier ships.
B: Briefly. They’re in rotation again.
S: The sands?
B: The march is back on.
S: Bog... if they detect you out there...
B: I know...
S: Bog, I...
B: Go on.
S: You may be forced to fight sooner.
B: Or we may not, we may remain a blip.
B: Siltiax decreed Móðurreiði.
S: Understood...
B: We had no choice S.
S: Siltiax doesn't possess your level of patience.
B: Móðurreiði—the Great Song. She is our will, she won't dishonor the song.
S: Just looking out for the tribe, Bog.
B: I get it, S.
S: I got the list. Quite the manifest.
B: Collaborators and ghosting. Siltiax marked their names on the stones.
S: Perimeter secure?
B: Holding for now.  
S: Hunrok?
B: He’s in position. Report shared with the Stenchers when comms permit.
S: Not much time remaining on the line, Bog.
B: Copy. Clear the frequency. Good luck with tire maintenance and repairs. 
S: Acknowledged. Outbound data burst will commence when I vacate the safe house.
B: Keep your eyes on the skies, Selector. Watch out for the "golf balls"—the sky has been dropping heavy payloads again. With Halloween approaching, I'm worried the anomalies will turn me into a golf fanatic before the night ends.
S: Negative, Bog. Never.
[0645-HOURS] // LINE CLEARED // END OF TRANSMISSION.












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