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Entry 1Edit

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The name's Panyin and this here's my journal. Just taking notes for me travel blog. If anyone out there is reading this, it's a pretty good bet I'm a goner.

Entry 2Edit

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End of Day One and I can confirm I'm not a-one for treasure hunting! Already separated from the group: ruddy fog just appears out of nowhere...

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Location: Trampled Passage.

Encountered a hapless trog a few hours back. Called himself 'Omain', who asked if I'd seen his son. I thought to meself, if his ears look anything like yours, he'd be hard to miss.

Entry 3Edit

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What I would give to be sitting in the leaky cesspool of The Itchy Midwife Tavern & Groghouse at this very moment.

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Old Tess ain't much to look at, and meaner than a basket o' cobras, but she pours a generous cider. Bit sweet on me, she is. Alas, she drinks too much. Then again, so do I.

Entry 4Edit

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"Pack light!" me brother-in-law advised before our trek. So all's I have on me is me journal, a quill pen (getting quite stabby with it, I am), a shiv (a far better weapon), a money clip with no money, and an extra pair of knickers (already soiled).

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I'd play with the pendant as a lad and do as the looking glass instructed ('Look closer') pressing me eye to the lens expecting to see all manner of strange unearthly things. But all I learned was that the closer you look, the cloudier things get.

Entry 5Edit

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Chanced upon a plonker with a screwy eye and Prince Valiant haircut. Pale as a toad's behind, he was, and easily as intelligent. Calls himself 'Odval'. "Odval?" I said. "That sounds about right."

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Entry 6 Edit

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I didn't bother to tell Odval (name still make me laugh) about the violent scene I witnessed two floors down, seeing as how his old man is missing and all. Mightn’t have been his dad. Why scare the halfwit senseless?

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She's called 'Procket' and she be slicker than boar guts on a javelin, and just as malodorous, but she has water, barley bread, and some candied ginger to share and seems right relieved for some company.

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Caught Pricket eyeing me pendant last night. "Bit girly innit?" she asked "So's are the ruffled shirts they make men wear nowadays," I replied. "But that dunna stop us. Look at me tights!"

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Entry 9Edit

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At the tavern on the eve of our journey, a screeching old harpy regaled the other neer-do-wells with the story of how the dragon got its name, 'Hell's Breath'. Not sure how it ended as I was busy arm wrestling a Bella Abzug lookalike for her floppy hat.

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Great puking hedgepigs! Rounded a corner and nearly gots me head separated from me body care of a rabid dwarf. Lucky Pricket is quick with a sleeper hold.

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Location: The Evershifting Maze (10 AP to enter)

While the dwarf was out cold, Pricket and I politely relieved him of his belongings: a mace, a piccolo, a wheel of cheese, and the glass eye that popped out of his head when Pricket pounced on him.

Entry 10Edit

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I don't know if I believe the legend 'bout the Great Dragon possessing the old wizard's body and running roughshod through the tower. I ain't seen no creepy wizard. Ill-tempered dwarves, sure, but no dragon-wizard. Sounds like codswallop to me!

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As kids, we was told the wizard can scare a man to death by locking onto to ‘em with a paralyzing blue gaze. Heck, me grandnanny does THAT each time ye try to sneak some candied horseradish into yer pockets!

Entry 11Edit

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Location: Contamination Pits (11 AP to enter)

That lad, Odval (still laughing), caught up to us a while back. Pricket sized him up right quick and put the thumbscrews to him. "Me dad says I be a genius, lass," he challenged. "Don't ye sass me." "That right, genius?" says Pricket. "Spell 'potato'."


Entry 12Edit

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Location: The Cackling Jailhouse (11 AP to enter)

Woke to find Pricket's up and vanished; where once her sweet and formidable figure reclined against the slick walls, the fog has seeped in and settled, dark and thick as blood. Where does it come from?


Entry 13Edit

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Location: Cutthroat Gambit (13 AP to enter)

I'm not gonna lie: it's getting ruddy lonely here, trapped in this infernal panopticon of doom, with only unstable dwarves and nuclear rats to keep me company. This ain't what the brochure promised!


Entry 14Edit

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Location: Ancient Dragon's Lair (12 AP to enter)

Blood is everywhere, thick and viscid, like the skin that forms on the surface of a neglected pot of soup when left to rot for a day or two. Smells 'bout as good, too.

Entry 15 Edit

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Location: Passage of Champions (15 AP to enter)

The whispering is getting louder. Last floor down was dark as night and I was blindly feeling my way along the corridors when I hears it again, right in me left ear. Could feel its breath, I could! And then me week looking glass pendant started glowing...