GrimsDeep reports the unfortunate loss of the Grim Fortress on day 4.  Struck several nights in a row by the now massive hoards, at last, on the fourth night, most of Team Grim was pinned down in a desperate fight to hold the perimeter of the Grim Fortress.  There were three men in that team.  Search and rescue found the Fortress leveled with no apparent survivors.

Another dark night at GrimsDeep.  Apocalypse survivors are urged to steer clear of GrimsDeep whenever possible.  As commander WisenGrim reported in his final transmission, "The dead seem to rule the night, my God men, save yourselves."

Lupa dug her way out the next morning and stretched - happy to see the sun another day. The hordes had passed by in the night. They were easy to hear through the dirt, that hideous shuffling of two dozen undead feet...

Shading her eyes with one hand, she looked off in the distance and wondered what had become of those meatbags in their fancy fortress. Gunfire had rattled off the canyon walls throughout the night but now all was silent.

Lupa picked up her bow, slung her supply bag on her back and loped off at an easy jog in their general direction. Some scouting of the area might provide useful. If the easy lure of noisy unwashed man was gone, her position was more vulnerable.

A thorough investigation of the debris turned up a small diary with these words written upon the final page;

"Drums, drums against the triple-upgraded wooden walls.  Repair tools can't work fast enough... the earth crumbles around us the rotten arms dig.  We cannot get out.  They are coming..."

It was an eerie feeling watching them crash through the earth and stone, then the wooden walls thrown down quickly to keep them at bay as crossbow bolts impact against fleshy faces.  Alas, in the end the tide could not be stemmed.  There was that fatal moment when you finally realize that all hope is lost and all you can do is laugh in the face of a cruel fate.  It was like putting up sandbag walls against a tsunami.

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