The first few weeks

I found the Journal I got in the other city.
 
I hate referring to it like that, but somehow naming it hurts. It's been less than a two weeks since we have arrived here and so much has happened.
 
We found ourselves pulled through the Font, which is what we have taken to calling our little plateau that sits n the bay, and promptly the thing we theorized had pulled us through turned into a Dragon shaped chunk of Obsidian. With no where to go, and shortly finding out that living shadows haunt the City at night, we pulled up the Seven bridges and have settled around the pool in the center of the Font, our tents placed next to the monuments and in the gardens.
 
During the day we have begun to go out into the city to look for food and check monuments. At night we try to figure out where we are. Victor has taken to studying Crystals with a new friend, a young woman named Mirage. They have determined they are magical, and bind to people, but other than that they haven't told me much more. Though they brought home a whole construct one night.
 
Speaking of Mirage, they are apparently from a world where Magic was not known until a couple of generations ago. She speaks a bit like someone created confetti out of a thesaurus and put in her mouth, but she seems to be telling the truth. And as frustrating as her self risking behavior is she seems to be good enough Youngling.
 
There are a lot of people like her who come from worlds that either have low or no magic, and even some people who I recognize but who seem to come from different timelines. Gabbro seems to think the other place succeeded, Bumble like me doesn't know, and Ambrose thinks they fell. The Iruxi seem to come from a completely different place and can barely believe we speak.
 
Ambrose of course no longer begin a sprite nor male. It is quite weird to call them that and look up at them. And their elf ears are cute. Most of the people I know have been drained, or out right changed, but most of us retain some memory of ourselves and our relationships.
 
We have gotten quiet a bit of scrap, and most of the group has been focused on creating a barricade so they are keeping busy in between getting food. Lately though a hurricane has swept to the north of us. During this we tried to collect wood, but we captured a Sprite, the first native creature that has sentence.
 
Krokkin promptly was rough with it. I may have gotten angry enough to strom off. I fear that with my weakening I may have