The Backlog: Tales from the Cheevo Wars

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you. We were all of us, to a man, betrayed. Blindly have we been following our commands, not entirely understanding the reasoning behind them, yet assured that in the end, all of our efforts would be worth something. All have sacrificed so much in this never-ending war.

And yet our commanding officers, those that we put our trust and our faith in, have led us astray this entire time. I feel I no longer know anything at all.

This entire time. Since the very beginning of this conflict.

We have been able to sell more than slime.

With many regrets,

I write to you on this, the 6th of August. I hope that my letter finds you well.

It is three months now since our campaign against the darkness began. The blood-colored moon that hangs in the sky seems a constant companion watching over our efforts to learn what exactly it is that we are meant to be doing here.

Two days back, we received missives - not the first that we have found, and yet more informative than any that have come before. Would that we had this information at the start of this conflict, spelled out in plain English rather than the runic language of the local inhabitants of this place.

But alas, these pamphlets come too late. Our troops are caught in conflict with the giant nightmare snake, but to little avail. I begin to fear that we shall never see the much needed spoils of that victory.

All I can do at this point is to continue to repurpose the plentiful slimeballs that our soldiers bring back from their conquests into various potions, alcohol, and donuts. I pray that the day soon comes when the giant nightmare snake is defeated, and we come one step closer to peace.

Sincerely yours,