Date: 8 August 2025
Chronicle Day: Day 132
Abercrombie’s recollection, frae the scalpel’s edge tae the jaws o’ the deep.
We pressed on—30 feet deeper, the tunnel opened into a spherical chamber, some 30 feet across.
At its centre: a surgical table, ringed wi’ implements.
The walls were adorned wi’ hybrid creatures—like the ones we’d fought, and worse.
On the table: a partially assembled creature.
To the right: a desk, a chair, and notes atop it.
The rest o’ the room lay open, save for a large green sigil, carved into the floor—10 feet wide.
Dart poked through the table and tools—lookin’ for food.
Ryn examined the sigil—a teleportation circle, perhaps?
Throsh studied the creatures—atrocities, all.
Dart moved tae the desk.
The notes spoke o’ successes, failures, and improvements.
They mentioned “the lost one.”
He pocketed them.
We destroyed the abominations.
Faerie fire made the sigil glow, if only briefly.
We turned back—back tae the fork, down the other tunnel.
We made camp for the night.
Ryn cast Alarm at the entrance.
He’d keep watch wi’ me later.
- Dart and Throsh: first watch
- Kaz and Rudy: second
- Ryn and I: third
All passed uneventfully.
Ryn borrowed Kaz’s axe.
It snapped in twain, then glowed wi’ its own light.
Next day, 40 feet ahead, a four-legged creature appeared—yellow eyes aglow.
A larger one behind us.
BULLETTES.
Throsh shrank one, Rudy blessed him, Kaz, and me.
Kaz landed the killing blow on the larger.
Ryn felled the smaller.
“The scalpel carved. The sigil pulsed. And the stone came alive. We are now level four.”
