*Written elegantly in the Dwarven tongue, well... hand*
The Beacon of Babylon is LitI write now in my log of journals in my journal of my logs in my logs' journal in my journal's log that in this log of mine I write in a journal marking the beginning of the end of days, of the beginning of night - or is it the beginning of days, of the end of night? Maybe both? Who in the end - or maybe the beginning, if you really want to be pedantic about it - really knows? All I know is what I saw this day and night marks a point in time to be remembered. Forgotten? Yes, to souls ignorant who know not their past!
After I met an elf of Eneil in Orcwood, having checked up on the Orc ranks to make sure they weren't up to -more- things unusual, I came to Babylon in a hurry, armored, *the next word seems a bit scribbled and only two letters can be made out* F----r in my soul in my left, steel of diamond in my right, helm adorned with glory, Forgefadr beating in my heart. I reached the outer gates by the bridge of Babylon and saw many a friend.. my cousin Bera - who
should have been somewhere more safe at this point in time, but I sensed fire in her heart that I had nay seen before - and there was miss Red who still has not told me her first name, and Roland, and a few other Lotus girls whom I hadn't had the chance to meet - like two flowers they were, one in red and the other in violet. I also saw a lad, a Solinarian soldier, whom I had met after the bloody skullclunking Fey set up a silly trick and changed attire to pink dresses and all went to hell with Mr. Meeting of Nations who went berserk. I don't blame him all too much. I need to remind myself to drink whenever I think of that - despite not being able to forget things anymore because it just doesn't work! Oh, the double-edged sword of great health. I'll see my loved ones pass away and there will be death all around me while I linger, and all the memories will stay. Ah, now I'm sounding sad and depressing so I might get on with the story. As Dinra would say, such a long time ago in the young days, "Mîthrim! Get to the point and stop beating around the weeds or I'll send you to that crazed Gnomish Tanner!" Bah that Gnome tanner.. always gave me the chills, especially when he started talking about squirrels. Don't get him talking about the squirrels!
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes yes, potential impending doom signaled from the lit Tower of Babylon. So, there were serpentine demons who clashed and broke through the southern gates. Mariliths, only heard about those in the books. Despite from my warning the silly clunkers on my side went rushing in when I told them to stand their ground. I had to rush in with them of course. Thankfully, no one died, even with the hellish - pedantic? fine! abyssal! - demons that appeared with gouging swords of flashy death. I had yet another subtle realization that I -knew- who I was while I fought there, fended ground, and not even a scratch got on me. I'm not giving up even after all the dark things I've learned. No, they may be obstacles, but I will turn them into stepping stones to climb higher. So, a hulking angel came to us after they fray was over, and told us to find the source of the problem while Geran and Anni walked into Babylon with their own purpose. Who knows where the problem might be - well, I might. I made it a vow of my own to now journey into the depths of the Earth, into Moroch, and snuff out that which lurks beneath. As I rushed towards Babylon, I found myself - and so did the others - in a place of death known as the River Styx, after all things went dark and it was as if we went on a journey to different dimensions. Of course, the Riverman was there, to take payment of those who wish to ferry across the river of the dead, and become one with death. I sought to see, as Holder of Heaven, if the stone granted to me by Peter could be used here. It could not be, so I went over to an entrance to the deep and lifted up a raggy curtain. Thousands of fetid screams came forth, and I lifted up my shield to fend against it. Never would I enter there again unless I knew I had to. We would not ferry across, so we decided to backtrack, and we were taken to a place known as the Deadlands in Moonthar Bay. I found out from the violet Lotus girl that the Bay was created out of a mountain from an archaic Ghazakiin who got peed off. Well, I know what that's like so I don't blame him. If I was an ancient and I got peed off, maybe I'd do the same thing - as long as it was right to do so. Maybe it was a mistake, who knows. Either way, he did get peed off. The ground started to quake and I thought another ancient got peed off or the same ancient got peed off again, so I looked around, and stones were billowing out from the ground; some pretty peed off stones because they had two shiny peed off skulls over them after they formed on top of an altar. Then ghosts started appearing and a banshee was screaming and then I got a little peed off, but I controlled myself easily enough. Ghosts tried to darken Roland's mind but he wouldn't put up with it, good lad, and the Banshee was telling us about some fate affecting us all. If you ask me, she just wanted some attention. We decided to go forward again and then darkness enveloped us once more...
Immediately, I knew the heartbeat of Gaia because I was deep under her mantles in mines. Mines I would recognize by the way they were carved in an instant. Mines made by the hands of the Dwarves of Morinsen. I put my ear to a wall and I heard the voices of fellow kin, and rushed on over there. I didn't know any of the lads, and everyone else with me were starting to freak out because I started getting sad and wasn't responding to them. Well.. they don't know the truth, so I do not blame them. For I began to know, as these miners were hacking away - these miners who could not hear us - that this was a vision. I knew in my heart what it implied, and I knew that they were rushing along, and hacking their way to doom. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch, and wait, for the horrors to come from the depths below... The same horrors that have been haunting me ever since I set foot in those ancient mines long ago; when I learned of perhaps the saddest secret in the world. I will not write now of the images that I saw crawling out of the depths for it wounds me too great, but to say that darkness enveloped us again, and we were back at Babylon; back where we started.
First I heard an angelic voice come from the tower. It calmed the darkness that swirled and haunted me. It said that the battle has ended as the King has awakened, and that Warriors should return to their homes. Three appeared before us, and only one I knew. But I bowed my head to all of them, with hand to the heart, for I knew somehow they were still yet divine brothers to me. There was Geran and another winged man in the back, who were both silent. The winged one in front seemed like a judge, who told us that the duty here is done. Before he left, he told us all something inspiring, that though fear may be used to control others, it can also be used to test others. As strange as all the events were that transpired, I knew inside of me, that I understood. I only wish I could put it in words.
Then, after everyone was leaving, I walked my cousin back to the gates of Morinsen, and I told her what she needed to know. I told her the truth. The fire in her eyes did not doubt my heart, and I decided that one day I will take her to that horrid place. Pray be that she does not tell anyone; or only at the right time, when it must be done. Perhaps, as I have feared, it remains that this is still yet the source of things, the source of these portals opening up. I know there is at least one down there...
I told Bera of the words that I spoke to bold Thanira, niece of Alexridra, who dared unravel the secret truth to some few in public, and then I told her of the ineffable gift I recieved from Alexridra. Idealists - I remember telling her - either their beauty be twisted by society, or their greatness is too cumbersome. But one stands before you today.. that will hang on to hope no matter the matter, and will do what he can... for the sake of his beloved people. I will never forget the words Thanira that young Gold Dragon told me in response, as a golden gong that rang to my heart.
*Mîthrim's rune-seal*