2022.05.28, Emery Avixium

[THIS REPORT HAS BEEN TRANSCRIBED FROM ONE OF EMERY’S NOTEBOOKS, AS HIS HANDWRITING WAS CONSIDERED ILLEGIBLE TO MOST. HE TOOK GREAT OFFENSE TO THIS, BUT AGREED TO THE TRANSCRIPTION WHEN TOLD SOME PLATITUDE ABOUT PRESERVATION OF KNOWLEDGE] EXPEDITION 8 (OR SOMEWHERE THEREABOUTS) Initial Purpose: Retrieval of the late Worthy Friend and further exploration into The Void.

I am lugging my backpacks full of my literature as one of the others thumbs the coordinates for the Void into the portal. It springs to life and the image beyond starts to form, and as it does, a gush of bone chillingly cold wind buffets us. This is new and abnormal, and my mind immediately begins to race, thinking of all of the wonderfully horrible things that could have caused such a thing. The others share some haphazard glances between them, but soon press on, and I happily follow behind. On the other end of the portal, we immediately take the rope. Traversing it brings no issues. The valley that we emerge into appears normal. No great travesty has befallen this land. [A HIGHLY DETAILED SKETCH OF THE VALLEY IS DRAWN HERE, ALTHOUGH IT WAS CLEARLY WRITTEN WHILE WALKING] I do not believe I have ever been here before. The others say that the mechanisms we are walking past used to artificially create a flow of water through this dam, but that it does not anymore. There is a large, still water wheel. It fascinates me. [RUSHED SKETCH OF THE WATER WHEEL] I want to study it further, based on my cursory glances there seems to be something peculiar about the large axle it was designed to rotate on. Maybe if I climbed it, I could see what kind of metal it is ma- [THE END OF THE LAST PHRASE HAS EMERY’S INK SCRAWLED ACROSS IT, HAS IF HIS HAND SLIPPED MID WRITING] Castille has made it quite clear that she does not believe investigation of this wheel to be worth our time. While I am inclined to disagree, I have neither the patience nor the physical strength to disagree with her in the present moment, so I shall not make a fuss. We quickly head for the destroyed tower. It is a long drop down to where the fight that felled our Worthy Friend supposedly took place, but our new partner Philharmandra is able to use her abilities to assist us in traveling down. Personal note: take some time to properly paint a picture of her. As we pass through the rubble, there are many dried bloodstains, mostly of red and pink. While i know quite well the tastes of most red varieties of blood [REFERENCE NOTEBOOK #347 PAGE 36 THEREABOUTS], I have yet to record such findings of pink. As the others shuffle past me, I bend down and pass my tongue across a particularly pink rock. I do not recommend doing this. The others may think I cannot see their looks of disgust or amusement at my investigations, but I believe they underestimate my perceptiveness. Alternatively, they simply do not care. But I digress. They do not appreciate knowledge like I do, and I pity them for it. Irregardless, I can now say that pink blood tastes no different from that of red. Mayhaps it being dried and partially decayed affected my results in some ways, so further investigation may be warranted. We pass through what we all believe to be some maintenance tunnel. It saddens me to see this place in such a state of destruction and decay, at least before I was able to see it whole for myself. We find ourselves at a dead end, but the tunnel continues above. Once again, Philharmandra bursts into a beautiful cacophony of light and feathers, and is once again, at her desired location. I must ask her to explain the physics of such magics once we have a spare moment. Or maybe it would be more exciting to try to divine it myself from observation. We shall see how I feel in the future. The rest of us use rope to climb up. It is clear a battle was waged here. There is so much blood. We must survey this space. We have found the shattered remains of Worthy Friend’s weapon. For the sake of preserving both his memory and this sword (claymor? I am not certain. Personal note to do more proper research on the classification of swords and sword-like objects.) [A SMALL DRAWING OF THE SWORD DEPICTED IN THREE LARGE CHUNKS] From this vantage point we can see that the second tower from the left has been entirely obliterated. I cannot help but say that it is awe-inspiring, and I cannot for certain say what I would have done to have gotten to watch it explode. I suppose I do not know for certain that it exploded, perhaps it imploded, or simply collapsed. But that would be quite a sad way for such magnificent destruction to have happened, would it not? [A DRAWING OF THE DESTROYED TOWER. IT SEEMS LIKE EMERY WANTED THIS DRAWING TO BE MUCH MORE DETAILED, BEFORE HE REALIZED HE DID NOT HAVE TIME AND SO HALF OF IT IS A RUSHED SKETCH. IT APPEARS AS IF THE INK ALSO GOT WET, AND RAN.] It is also worth noting that we are not sure of the passing of time in this space. There is no telling how decomposed Worth Friend’s remains will be, if at all. I would say “if we find them” but I am certain we shall. I have full confidence in my searching abilities. Unless of course something ate him whole, which would be a great tragedy indeed. We leave this room and travel outside. In the distance is a river. However, according to the others the reservoir in front of the dam is significantly drained. Once again I survey the area. It is covered in rubble. I tire of rubble. One would think that I would enjoy it, for underneath surely there is a plethora of things to discover! However in practice it is difficult to move and such large rocks are hard to move. I much prefer investigating the abandoned to the destroyed. Despite my latent frustration, I perform my duty. I am of course successful, and find a trail of pink blood leading towards the river. This makes my heart sink somewhat. For one, I do not look forward to getting wet. I will, of course, but it is an annoyance nonetheless. Two, it means that the body could have drifted further down the river, or even mayhaps into a hideaway of the “salamanders”. The concept of such a thing amuses me, I would quite like to investigate one if it does exist, but it bears pointing out that I cannot breath underwater, which would make such an investigation terribly difficult. I would try, of course. Unless the others do not allow me to, again, which is a factor I find myself having to account for more and more. I would suggest to myself the idea of traveling alone, but based on all of my observations of this place I can only conclude that such a thing would result in my nigh instant death, and then who would be here to write all of my findings? Plus I do get quite lonely. The water appears to be around 2 meters deep. I, unfortunately, lack the verticality to properly wade through the water. Castille, who is graciously quite tall, says she will grab me by my clothing and hold me down while I investigate. What a wonderful plan! Of course I must set my books down before I enter the water. That is a mistake you only make twice. I will report back. The scout for the body was a success! Having previously tasted our dearly departed friend's blood, I was able to recognize it after mistakenly inhaling some water. The water was incredibly misty and hard to see through clearly, but after some tracking I was able to properly locate the body. I signaled to Castille and she hoisted me out of the water, before summarily tossing me aside back into the water. Thankfully I can swim on my own, especially without Nikonai’s assistance, and climbed out. As I combed my hair, I watched as Castille attempted to drag the body to the surface. As she got closer to the edge of the river, I noticed that she in fact had only secured the exoskeleton. While I am so desperately curious about the effects of decay in this plane, I can say for certain that i have recorded the unique smell of month old corpse several times previous [REFERENCE NOTEBOOK #180 PAGE 62, NOTEBOOK #379 PAGE 25, NOTEBOOK 430 PAGE 71] and it does not warrant more documentation. Castille secures the shell to her body and we continue on our way, next destination back into the void. The first room we pass through the others have seen before, a room with many discarded kin shaped robots. However, all of them have a single very clean puncture through each of their heads. Looking at these poor creations fills me with a distinct sadness, thinking about how much they must have seen, been able to do. I run my fingers over their cold copper shells, and thumb the holes in their heads. I want to know what they knew. Maybe I can bring one back to base, and fix it. But before that, I have decided I want to try to commune with them. Maybe I can reach out to them in the past. I have gingerly gathered and placed a majority of them into the center of the room, sitting them all upright proper. I shall sit similarly in front of them, and reach out. Will report back. DAMNYNGE FA##LITE ##YNTENAUNCE LOG 21### SECU###TE : FORREY# ST#ELTHE A#TH#ON BU#JE WARNEN : PROBOSKIS CLOK##G SE- My commune with the robots was successful. Being within the mind of a robot is always such a strange, borderline painful experience, but one I do not shy away from. They have such a simple and regimented understanding of the things they observe. On some level I am envious of their objectivity, but their inability to fully conceptualize their experiences is the primary reason why I have not pursued transferring my consciousness to a more mechanical form. This commune was eerily tranquil. I did not feel any pain, and the looks on the others faces when I returned to the present was more confusion and judgment as opposed to the usual concern and fear. This is disappointing to me, in all honesty, as the value of the information I receive is often correlated with the amount of psychic damage I receive. But these things cannot be helped. Maybe next time. Based on my observations, these robots were perfectly functional prior to their accident. However, something hidden came and disposed of them. I believe it was described as “things move in the dark” and “you cannot see it, its moves in shadow.” It is almost impossible to say what caused this, for I have not yet encountered a being which cloaks itself in darkness and punctures things in such a way. My first thought was of the crowned watchers, which were initially hidden to us, but those creatures seemed to enjoy… maiming. I show the others the maintenance log (?) I inscribed while in my trance. They acknowledge it, and we have a small chat about it before moving on. Before we go, I suggest bringing back a robot for study and possible repair, but they all recoil at the idea. Something about “murderous intent” and “shooting us to death”. I concede the point, but convince them all at the very least to bring along a head of one of the things. And with this we proceed into the void. I am so… terribly bad with directions. I believe we are going… east? And then there is an archway. South of this, I believe, there are three doors, one of the doors I recognize fairly well. We go up some marble stairs through the archway. At the top of these stairs is a large, beautiful door. Castille begins picking it. [HASTY SKETCH OF A DOOR, AND CASTILLE KNEELED IN FRONT OF IT LOCKPICKING IT] As she finishes her lockpicking the door swings open and… I believe I hear music? Congratulatory music.. Like the door is praising her for a job well done. How absolutely peculiar. I believe it went like [EMERY HAS SCRIBBLED DOWN SOME LINES AND WRITTEN MUSIC NOTES ON THEM. IT IS THE FINAL FANTASY 14 VICTORY THEME] The door, once opened, leads outside to a white marble pavilion. It is cold here. So very cold. To the east and west of us are cliffs, but to the north.. There is nothing but ice. A huge, sprawling lake of ice. The dam we saw coming here.. Did it used to thaw this ice? Or did stopping it cause the lake to form? I have absolutely no idea, but in this moment I desire nothing more than to see how far down this lake goes. How many pyres would it take to get to the bottom of this? I can feel the aether swell inside of me in excitement, but no! Not now. There are more important things to do, and destroying this lake in the name of science can wait. Probably. Scouting forwards I notice the lake has a kind of “epicenter”. Around this point the ice starts to distort, and in the center of this distortion is an enormous spire. [EMERY DRAWS WHAT HE HAS JUST DESCRIBED] To the north there is nothing but lake. On its eastern bank there is a slight incline that disappears into forest. Western bank seems to dissolve into plains. To the south there is land that seems to stretch for ages. The furthest thing we can see from this point is a particularly sunken village at the bottom of a valley. The land curves a bit to the left, which gives way to a large, dense wood. However, from this point we cannot see the Hopworth willow. A few miles before the sunken village there is an extremely strange hill. It is entirely spherical and.. Its hollow. There even appears to be a tunnel leading through it. We turn around, and go through the middle door to the south. We end up back in the void. According to one of the others we are going what we have designated as “north.” We eventually find ourselves in a square room covered in suits of armor, all in filed lines. We cannot find any more seams to travel to, so we go back. We try going east this time, but the seam this way… does not open. Where normally as you approach the seam it seems to suddenly get larger with perspective to accommodate a persons size, this one just Does Not. Nikonai seems to hurt themselves trying to enter it. We go south. We have been here before, but the viewing window is not active. We emerge into the room filled with technology, but it has been completely frozen over. The cold seems to be coming from the room where The Flensed was. Nikonai takes a quick look into that room, and comes back mortified. Says something about a black sun. I must investigate. Where did it go. Where did it go? Did they eat it? Did it explode? Did it turn into that sun? I don’t know. I wish I could know. Come now, Emery.. Describe it already. The room shape is the same. Chunks of completely unidentifiable flesh scatter the room. But in the center lies a large, floating black sun, emanating the greatest cold i have ever felt. Cold does not normally scare me.. But something about this cold feels wrong. It unnerves me. What put it there? Where did it come from? Why? Above the blackness was a kind of… blue light, shining through. Nikonai has given me their jacket. I’ll be okay. What has just happened is.. Hard to explain. Philharmandra seems to have.. Sealed the sun in some kind of cover of down feathers. It happened so fast, and not by any magic I am familiar with. This new comrade of ours confounds me, but I am grateful for the help. Immediately the cold becomes less oppressive. We try that broken seam again, but again it does not open. Nikonai tells Castille to search inside the seam with magic. As she sends her aether out, it's as if the seam consumes it, like it just stops. But we notice that Castille’s magic has exited not from the other side of the seam, but from one of the frozen terminals. I feel good enough to get up off the floor, and I channel some fire aether to help Castille unfreeze the terminal as she gets it working. The seam is now working. We enter it but it seems to take.. Longer to travel through than normal. We emerge in the atrium. We turn around. We are now back in the room where The Flensed once sat. The sun, now covered in down, occasionally sparks with electricity. There is a severed hand on the floor. Nikonai picks it up. I get a strange feeling. It’s like there were words echoing in my head, but I cannot remember them. Like someone spoke to me, but no words were spoken. But if the thing was to think, and would have formed words, it would have said something akin to “A door once opened cannot be closed, there will be others. You have not won, put off the inevitable, do you understand?” I cannot say that I do understand. We go back to the atrium. Nikonai shoves the hand in a bag and leaves it there. Note to self: check decay of the hand whence we return. We decide to camp on the pavilion. Me and Nikonai decide to spend a few hours charting the stars. I take around 10 minutes to rummage through my bags to get out my mapping tools, and in the meantime Castille tries to make a latter. I watch her curiously, and she just stomps on the ground and a latter forms out of dirt. What a strange thing to do. Nikonai and I do a wonderful job doing some cursory charting of the sky. The strangest thing, though, is that Cassandra’s notes on the stars seem to not make any sense. As if the sky she observed when she wrote this was completely disparate from the one we were currently under. After we make a full circle and chart some stars, we notice the constellations are again completely different. But the ones we see now are similar to the ones we see when using the void coordinates, but not the ziggurat constellations. Obviously this merits more observation. Does the sky change depending on what portal we use to enter? This might be important to pay attention to. [A BEAUTIFUL PAINTING OF THE NIGHT SKY. IT SEEMS LIKE HALF WAY THROUGH EMERY HAD TO COVER UP AND REPAINT THE STARS] Finally, after we have properly rested, we return to the portal and return to base, mostly whole.