March 21
It wasn’t easy to find their trail under the sewers. No one really seems to have a clear direction, or a specific way of reaching the core. The most we managed to acquire in the way of information was a series of disjointed ravings from a handful we captured. They didn’t live long, but even so we gleaned precious little from their interrogations. We seem to finally have a lead though – and even though I’m not fond of confined spaces, the idea of at last reaching their cell is enough to make me eager to go. They should be under the dwarven glass blowing foundry through the cellar in the abandoned distillery next door. From what the captive said the sewers there are routed seperately from the rest because of the foundry.
April 13
Found them today, thanks to their stench. Who would've thought there would be anything beneath the sewers. The smell eminated from a grate beneath a really low crawl space down there. Few times have I smelled something so overpowering – a testament to the sheer amount of sacrifices I suppose. It wasn’t like we weren’t expecting some of what we saw but… the extent of it! I felt like scrubbing my skin raw after, just to get the smell out. Not that I could do the same to still the screams. I wish we’d arrived sooner.
May 2
The thing is cold. I was expecting something more… magnificent? They defended it with such ferocity I’d have expected a true treasure. Instead its just an odd, misshapen lump that looks to have been carved out haphazardly from some sort of metal, angles jutting awkwardly here and there. None of us could make out the runes, so we’ll have to find someone to translate them back in town. If we can pay anyone enough to touch the damn thing.
May 5
I’m alone now. It feels heavier than when I first held it - -and almost pleased. Not that it has a face, or a smile or… but it almost feels like something living and self- willed into existence and action. They’re all gone now – I buried Anders yesterday. Well, buried might be too generous a word. Piled up rocks to hide the remains of his carcass would probably be more apt. I’m too exhausted and on edge to care anymore – I just want out, back into daylight and fresh air. Away from here.
May 18
I still can’t sleep.
It starts like a crawling, something spiderwebbing down my skin - I wake up, always, as though creeping through the muck, ripping out of a womb.
I met Astrepius again, and he asked me about the thing. I should tell him more, but every time I start to its like I lose myself a little more.
Maybe I’ll feed it tomorrow, and let it end.