Date: 18094, 3:03 AM
Galandin G., Darmentor of Magiks and Histories, Middle Earthfell
Although our party has traveled far, I feel it is important to reflect on our past to gain insight to the future. For this reason, I will be summarize the events that have led us to where we are now. However, I fear my tale may be cut short, as one of the engines on our craft is puking out what I presume is some sort of plasma. Anyways, on to my story.
Almost two months ago (although it seems like many more) me and my apprentice were journeying the Northern Shore of Namtail Lake when we stumbled upon a rather large fishing village. Among the cobblestone streets we found hospitality that far surpassed that of the roads we had wandered. However, our dinner with the nobles was cut short when a massive flood came through the hills and drowned the city in it’s passage. We soon discovered, after I took quite a fall from a steeple spire, that the flood was magical by nature, and through some spiritual magic had reanimated all who had drowned into what I can only describe as water constructs (although human in shape, their skin was merely suspended water, their possessions floating awkwardly inside them). After a prolonged battle with these demons and the death of a Vampire Romance novel author who had survived the flood, my apprentice and I made it safely out of the city. While walking up the hills to investigate, we stumbled upon a snoozing half-ling who had been carried into the tree by means of the flood. Upon further investigation, it was an old friend of mine, Nebin, who I fought alongside in several missions for the Earthfell Legion. Not particularly remembering how he came to be there, he decided to join us in our trek, although my apprentice seemed leery of him at first.
I suppose I ought to describe us, if you, the reader of this journal, are to have an accurate picture of the story in your mind. I am Galandin G., Darmentor of Magiks and History, and I am roughly 6’ tall. Being a “Bafug” as they call them in Earthfell, I am human enough except for the fact that every molecule of water in my body is kept at a steady -121 degrees. My apprentice, we shall call her Khala, as knowing her, she would look down upon her name being recorded so eagerly, is (or was, but I’ll get to that in a second.) a young Tiefling with a steady aim and a funny accent.
Now that all the descriptions are out of the way, I shall continue. At the top of the pass, we found a waterfall coating the edges of what one might call a sinkhole or a vertical cave of unimaginable depth and circumference. An odd formation of stone pools and falls jutted out over the abyss, and we soon realized that this was the source of the flood. Atop it’s many levels and pools, only a rough 20 or so meters above our current elevation, and maybe 30 meters away, sat a water spirit of reasonable power. After battling water constructs and extreme currents, almost pushing Nebin off the edge once, we reached the spirit. While the spirit seemed in no mood to talk, we pressed, and eventually convinced it to lower it’s guard and keep a conversation without attempting to send one of our party to certain doom. Fortunately enough, my apprentice spoke it’s odd tongue, and we discovered that it had been disturbed by something; the spirit would not say more about it. Eventually, after more cajoling and bluffing, we learned that the spirit kept a magical orb to monitor the spring and do it’s job so the spirit would have a reduced workload each day (making that much water is difficult, you know), and that the orb is on a lower level of the stone spring formation. “Retrieve it,” it said, “and we shall end this nonsense.” As we swam down the levels, and sighted the orb, we noticed that it was not, in fact, the pearl wonder as the spirit had described, but a purple and black swirling mass. As soon as we laid a hand on it, the platform started collapsing and buckling, and a darkness to which I shall compare to ink started to spread through the springs. After many exciting moments and a clumsy faceplant on my part, we were able to make our way past the black tentacles manifested by the ink and up to the top platform. By this time, almost all of the bridge to the edge of the falls, and safety, had crumbled away into the mist below us. When the waterspirit destroyed the corrupted orb, an anomaly opened in the middle of what remained of the platform. Oddly, the platform did not break away around it, and there was no sudden movement to suggest the platform displaced: the anomaly seemed to ignore the laws of reality and simply “move” the things arounasnoik
The reason for my last mistake was the first engine exploding, propelling my into my cabin door. For now, I shall have to cut this journal short, as repairs seem necessary at this point, for we are open water and cannot afford to crash this far from Entritus, especially not with the Shadow Legion’s aerial companies searching for prey.