You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you I prefer the old ways of Imperial Russia to the capitalistic order we have now, but that is the truth. I am a man of the old ways, comfortable in the style of life I had before. But where are my manners, we haven't even been introduced. I was born Ivan Alexeivich Nikolaev on February 25th 1886, by the western calendar, in the city of Saint Petersburg. My family was allied with the Tsar Nicholas the 2cd we were nobles and we lived a fine life. Like most young men I longed for a life with a little more adventure and excitement to it, and so I joined the army when I was 18. I barely missed fighting in the Russo-Japanese war but, however I was to see my fill of fighting in the 'War to end all Wars' as your President Wilson called it.

World War One, hell on Earth is one of the few ways I can describe it. The endless bombing and machine guns, the mud, the fruitless 'trench warfare'. When I look back on it now I am quite amazed that I was not killed during that time. Being something of an athlete I was chosen for the job of running messages back and forth from the front to the Generals when the lines of communication were severed. It would be silly of me to say I had a sign "shoot me" on my back but at times it seemed as though I did. But somehow I survived the Great War, only to be faced with an inner war in my beloved 'Mother Russia'.

After the Tsar abdicated and the Bolsheviks began to take control I joined the White army under the leadership of Yudenick. We fought well, and bravely but we were outnumbered and in the end we fell. It was during that period that I died for the first time. A Bolshevik saber through the gut, quite the agonizing way to die. I awoke hours later surrounded by my fellow comrades, or what was left of them. I wandered for a time, knowing full well if I returned to my home I would just be shot and killed again. I didn't question why I had returned to life, I just accepted it and moved on.

Eventually I met a man in Siberia who was like me. He told me of Immortals, taught me the rules of the Game and became a good friend. When we finally grew weary of life in the Tundra we traveled to Moscow. Communism was in full swing now and it took a great deal of getting used to. But eventually we did grow accustomed to it. Of course by then war was brewing yet again and once more I felt the need to defend my country. I have little to say about that time of my life, at least little I wish to share. However at the end of the war something happened that would change my life forever.

January 27th, 1945, a day I will never forget - it was the day I met him - Giovanni Bassani. That was the day we liberated the Nazi Death Camp Auschwitz. I had been very surprised to feel another of our kind there, but nevertheless I found him. Emaciated, filthy and weak, it broke my heart to see the condition of the prisoners, him especially. I took him in, healed him, told him of our rules, became his teacher, eventually I fell in love with him.

After Giovanni was fully recovered we traveled the world, Europe mostly at first, then the Far East and finally America. It was almost an accident really, that we happened to be in America when the plague hit. I worry for what is to come by it. Dreams of a Dark Man haunt me - as does the thought of the sheer number of Immortals around with no one to keep us from fighting. What will happen to us all remains to be seen I suppose.

We met survivors a few days after leaving Kansas City. Only a day later we nearly lost a member when another Immortal attacked her. I arrived in time to save her, but not before she had seen the man come back to life. After I defeated him Giovanni and I shared our stories.

I worry about him, more than usual. He is slim to begin with, and now he has lost even more weight. His eyes are shadowed at times again, and his nightmares are back. Some are prompted by the man in the west, the rest come of their own volition. It is almost as if any blocks Giovanni had against those dreams are now gone - the pain once again fresh.

We were all a little awkward around each other the following morning - until two more Immortals joined. Both older than I, and one by several centuries. It didn't take too long before we decided to allow them both to throw in with us - we found out later what a mistake that had been. Despite the delay of meeting them, and another stop, we made it to Mother Abigail's for dinner and she welcomed us all with open arms - much to my relief.

Demetrius and I got off to something of a rocky start - but that has changed. Though he is much older, I see a bit of myself in him, his emotional state. It is not much different than how I was before Giovanni... It isn't easy to come to grips with your past, I hope I am helping him do so. He wasn't keen on my attentions at first but now we have become good friends. I would trust him with my life - Giovanni's as well.

On the first full day we spent at Mothers another group arrived. They were lead by the oldest living Immortal - Methos. I had thought him just a legend, but he is real, and he arrived in time to assist Lizzy in the removal of Sadie's appendix.

There were a few semi-eventful trips into town and to neighboring farms, but for the most part our time at the homestead was fairly peaceful. Only two events truly marred our stay - Flagg's 'Dream Attack' and Leland's betrayal. Flagg's nightmares rocked each of us, probably because he visited each of our 'personal hells' by all accounts. In the end though, I don't think it had the affect he wanted. Instead of us becoming withdrawn and scared we banded more tightly together. This was never more evident than when Leland left the group, and tried to kill both Demetrius and Victoria in the process. Both survived, and the only real thing he accomplished was getting several vendettas on himself, and delaying our departure to Boulder - which turned out to be good thing when Silas returned to Mother's the following night and found another mortal, Daniel, along the way.

One other thing happened on that extra day at the homestead - I asked Giovanni to marry me. I suppose many would think it foolish of me to do so we are both men, both Immortal, and the world as we knew it is dead. What purpose would it serve? There is no real way I can express what it would mean to me I only know I want to do it, I want to honor the commitment we made. Giovanni, it would seem, wants to as well. He said yes, and I do not think I have ever seen him so happy...

Two days of driving, and then we arrived in Boulder safe and sound, for the most part. The date is the 22 of July - a week after we arrived at Mother's - a month since most of the world perished from the flu. The question that all of us are thinking, and no one wishes to ask, remains the same. What now?