Journal of Father's previous conduit

The journal of a desperate scholar who became Aboleth/Father's previous conduit 52 years ago after venturing into the forest of darkness to get inspiration for a thesis #relatable.
It depicts the writer's experience conspiring to remove The Plug, though the writer loses themselves to insanity and immobility before reaching that point.
Dalitar Amakiir rudely STOLE this journal from The Conservatory and faces exile should he ever return it. (Note from D.A. - Proposal to remove this information from the records)

tl;dr

USEFUL INFO FOR GROUP:

Diary mentioned silver weapons are good for abominations. At least some of them.

Lake Ysgard - we must have passed it

Tinctures of Gator’s Teeth and Foulain have proven extremely useful in minimising fatigue for our troupe, and this has positively contributed to our pace.

With summer comes new enemies: "The warmth of the sun and the beginnings of summer are a blessing and a curse. Less rain and snow is of course incredible, but there are small flying creatures that aggravate us in these swampy areas, perhaps making the mangroves their home. They bite and the afflicted have large welts and nausea. I’m attempting to create a deterrent for the critters, but so far they are immune to my efforts (Attorlaðe, Angelica, Grendar and Blarot have had minimal effect)."

Cinnamon works on the 'midges'

Lake, rather than an ocean. Fresh water. (I have a memory if it being salty though? Ah well)

Bloodwart - to breathe in water - is gatherable nearby.

Inflammation and black ichor in veins was cured by Attorlaðe and the lake's water.

"The great gates can be used more than you know" -- writer sent the journal back to Ypakar, presumably via portal. Vowed it will return and will ensure the goal's completion. (Note from D.A. - Heavy speculation here, unclear how journal reached Conservatory without consulting library records, and Great Gates when said by an insane person could mean anything.)

SIMILARITIES BETWEEN THIS SCHOLAR AND SIGRID'S EXPERIENCE:

• Came to the forest with ambition. Determination. Desperation.
• Dreamed of dead loved ones once in the forest. Faces blurred -- just a feeling to go on that it's them.
• Calming presence
• "There is something odd about this place - it has secrets hidden by secrets hidden by whispered sweet nothings."
• Meditation seems to help clarity
• Abundance of ideas and over-inflated confidence in them
• A feeling of freedom and fearlessness
• Sense of focus, not letting fear hold you back from barrelling forwards
• Inspiring dreams
• Feeling attached, looking forward to Father's guidance
• Conversations happen outside of sleep
• Appearing tired
• Learning about the great tree. Feeling of enlightenment.
• Mind is open beyond return. Senses not actually heightened, but a sense of clarity and understanding and connection and truth.
• "others" not understanding, being suspicious. Feeling of not being seen, understood, heard.
• Father speaks of a plug that needs to be cleared
• Obsession with Father's goals
• Conflicting feelings about Father. Need you, want you, hate you, see you, devour you. Salvation, end, doom, blessing, curse, favourite, completer of goal.
• Enlightened and connected to the universe. Feeling like a mere fragment of a larger pattern.
• Recognising own weaknesses and shortcomings: broken, wrong, weak
• A final feeling of protecting life. Mortal minds need space, time, to feel hope, joy, love. But this world brings chaos and death that steals their salvation.

NEW INFORMATION ABOUT ABBY'S WHOLE SHTICK:

• This world is a shallow puddle, a reflection of a greater world. An Ocean of infinities.
• writer as 'Conduit of ideas'
• Father wants more people -- is disappointed, angry, upset, emotive, sad, alone without group also devoting themselves to him
• If the plug isn't cleared, our world 'forever' locked away behind the stem/leaf. AKA connecting our world to the passage of the dead/ source of life, souls.
• The dead cannot leave if the water does not flow. If the stem is plugged, the leaf will rot.
• The ship of dead souls sails but does not find harbour
• Lack of humanity. Using others as a tool for their power/help/minds/energy
• Total obsession -- not able or willing to spend time on anything that isn't for Father
• Movement decreases
• "I am not strong enough. Father will not make this mistake again."
• "Careful steps do not break the fragile mind. Father knows this now". Father definitely came on less strongly than he did with this person.

The Journal Itself!

Black text inicates words written in Deep Speech.

13th Enlightening, 340

So begins my documentation I suppose. Mother always used to say that journals were an easy and reliable way to ensure one’s thoughts are clear, concise, and remembered. I intend this to be the forebear to my true legacy, the oracle who speaks of the wonders to come: the herald of my magnum opus.

…What that looks like is as yet unclear to me but I am sure it will come. The Conservatory graduates no fools, as they say, and so what I put my mind to shall be done. Half baked projects won’t get the eye of the Dean, and I truly need a grant next year so my project must be… appealing.

15th Enlightening, 340
Whilst the phrase “failing at the first hurdle” is irrelevant to this situation, I may have forgotten to journal yesterday… Mother needn’t know.

I discussed with illegible word: a NAME? if there would be room for another on her project. However demeaning, getting access to a short term paper on which I could have an influence could only aid my endeavours. However, she intimated that not only was there not space, “joining successful projects halfway through is a sign of moral shortcomings” and that I should do my own work. All very well and good, but resource in this area is scarce and we should share it as necessary.

Queen damn her, it doesn’t matter! I will work out my project and get funded and contribute back to our wonderful society.

I heard that illegible word: a NAME? is going on an expedition next month; leaving the safety of the Vale for Davokar. I wish him luck! Only insanity can be the cause of such a foolish errand, and I am not yet so desperate as to join him!

20th Enlightening, 340
I joined the expedition to Davokar. It will give me an opportunity to see the world, and develop my theories. I have decided I shall apply my talents to the specialism of alchemy, surely there will be new materials and reactions to be found in the Dark Forest.

I have read what I can of the Forest but there is little of repute. Expeditions are reasonably rare and survivors rarer. It is said that there are great treasures there, littered amongst the perils. I care little for them, but we have a group of mercenaries who have agreed to protect us in return for any such treasure we find. A most amenable fellow, a loxodon called illegible word: a NAME? leads them and he seems relatively competent.

This truly seems like my best chance at instigating truly novel research. The risk of harm is high, but with doughty guards such as we have, and my reverent fear of both failure and pretty much anything that breathes ought to see me well enough. This is the chance to be remembered forever, and it should not be squandered.

I should remember to purchase a lantern, and some extra blankets. Such things are likely valuable on trips into the unknown. I shall also request of illegible word: a NAME? that they impart all knowledge of how one is supposed to keep one’s wits sharp in the eternal gloom under the eaves.

9th Slaying, 340
Only the Goddess gives me light as I pen this entry, her yellow eye granting all that I need to record my thoughts.

…Which I have been terrible at doing insofar. Habit forming is so difficult! I read a paper once from illegible word: a NAME? that implied forming habitual behaviour takes up to forty repetitive cycles to ingrain, while breaking it requires only once. Absurd, and most inopportune. As I rest, it is late at night on our third day of travel from Ypakar. We are following the Queen’s River and traversed the Fell Marshes today, which are aptly named. illegible word: a NAME? lost his horse in the murk after the poor mare stepped wrong and tumbled down an embankment. We barely rescued him, poor chap, but a swift rope trick was enough. Thank the Queen that I was quick enough, and for the power to cast the spell.

I hate this travel. It already grates, and my legs are sore from simply riding. I shudder to think how I would feel were I to be walking. I have taken some of the marsh muck to study, but without all the specialist equipment at the Conservatory I am hesitant to make any experiments yet. It is absurd how little we actually brought - each day I think of new things that should have been on the list. I suppose there is still time to leave, but to cross almost 100 miles of barely inhabited Vale land is a proposition to baulk at.

Mother requested I send her letters regularly. I shall try writing one tomorrow, but the only reason I am scribing in this journal right now is as procrastination from informing her of the horrors of the road, so we shall see how that goes.

13th Slaying, 340
illegible word: a NAME? is dead. The camp is in more than a little shock, but the creature came from nowhere. It had several mouths, tearing free of a slick, oily black form. Limbs, such as they were, were more pseudopodia, tasting the air and entangling their prey, to be ripped apart by the needle like teeth in the distributed mouths. Sickening, but I managed to watch as the creature shredded her. It did not masticate, instead shredding her flesh from bone and leaving much viscera behind, almost as though it were hunting for sport not necessity.

Three of our mercenaries were wounded driving it away; they seemed to surprise it as it feasted. Torchlight was helpful: the barest crescents of the Queen and Saint were up but the Goddess had yet to fully rise. Its hide seemed to resist the cuts from their blades, but they mentioned silver afterwards. Apparently it is in old stories that it can affect creatures of the night more easily. One to study, and I shall. Once I can clear my mind of the image. I do not think I shall sleep tonight.

30th Slaying, 340
Winter’s last breath. Tomorrow, Spring will arrive, and with it the Cleansing of the land anew. How I wish I were still in Ypakar, Mother makes such marvelous seed cakes.

We can no longer see the glow of Lake Ysgard at night, so far are we beyond the boundaries of our home. Still, we enjoyed a muted celebration of sorts: illegible word: a NAME? sang a song and we enjoyed a cup of broth.

Perhaps the newness of the year will shed fresh light on things and give me inspiration and motivation once again.

5th Building, 341
I’m truly struggling to put words to my thoughts and feelings. Writing is not the simplest of tasks for me and so I have agreed with myself that I should not force words to be ripped onto the page, only to let them flow when they will. The last months have been arduous. True night came and went, and we lost two more mercenaries.

This trip is a test of the sunken cost fallacy. How long do we wait before returning to Ypakar? And how many more people will we lose before we do?

25th Ruling, 341
We see trees on the horizon to the north. Almost there it seems. illegible word: a NAME? believes that we have made good time and should be there in two weeks. Perhaps that is the only good from this journey.

No, that is patently untrue. I have improved my abilities in alchemy immeasurably already. Tinctures of Gator’s Teeth and Foulain have proven extremely useful in minimising fatigue for our troupe, and this has positively contributed to our pace. I am low on Foulain, however and will need to forage quite thoroughly for more upon reaching the forest.

Providing 14th, 341
Arrival. We followed a spine of mountains north towards the forest and found a large lake just within the eaves of the forest. Well, upon studying it I believe it to be a lake: it does have a wave pattern, however, which implies a large surface area incomparable to lakes at home.

The warmth of the sun and the beginnings of summer are a blessing and a curse. Less rain and snow is of course incredible, but there are small flying creatures that aggravate us in these swampy areas, perhaps making the mangroves their home. They bite and the afflicted have large welts and nausea. I’m attempting to create a deterrent for the critters, but so far they are immune to my efforts (Attorlaðe, Angelica, Grendar and Blarot have had minimal effect).

Our camp has been established, rudimentary though it is, and we have already sent scouts out into the woods. I am… Hopeful? Perhaps the sacrifice of our lost will not be in vain and we can make useful observations that can change the world, as I once thought.

I haven’t written to Mother in some time. We could not spare the bird. Surely she will forgive me. I dreamed of Father last night, Light rest. It was nice to see him, even if only as a phantom of my sleep.

Nourishing 3rd, 341
Perhaps writing it down has cemented it in my mind, but I have dreamed of Father each night since. His face is blurred, but I know it to be him. My memories of him are obviously fading and my mind is holding on to whatever it can. I find it calming and tell him all about our efforts. My efforts. I believe the first thing I wish to do here is deter and cure these accursed midges (as I have termed them). Father’s contribution last night was to try cinnamon. I say his contribution - I know it was my subconscious mind, but it helps me feel closer to him. We shall see how it helps.

Scouts have started returning: there is a strange city over the river; made all of stone and seemingly flooded. illegible word: a NAME? is going there tomorrow, hopefully she can glean some measure of history from it. There is something odd about this place - it has secrets hidden by secrets hidden by whispered sweet nothings.

Nourishing 20th, 341
Cinnamon worked! No bites reported in the last week, thank you Father!

The dreams have continued and Father tells me so much. He says how the ruins are a distraction, which is true. Of course it’s true, these are my innermost thoughts. Meditation has helped. I have become much more capable of listening to myself. And I have the best ideas! Truly I have never felt inspiration flow like this, the Forest is such a special place.

I studied the water a little more today, armed as I was against the midges. It is remarkable. Freshwater adding credulity that it is a lake, but with a rich ecosystem. I gathered some bloodwort and breathed deep of the air: here is a place to truly be free, and fearless of death or whatever fate awaits. Such fear can only hold people back. Such fear can only limit you, and such barriers must be smashed!

Nourishing 30th, 341
Inspiration flows from my dreams. I cured illegible word: a NAME? using only Attorlaðe and the power of the water in this lake. The creature he had fled had caused a mighty inflammation and his veins were coursing with black ichor, but I drove it out!

It is good to see Father each night as I sleep. How I had missed him. How had I gone so long without his wisdom? Sometimes our conversations happen in wakeful hours now, so I needn’t waste hours of the day waiting for learnings to cascade into my mind.

illegible word: a NAME? said I looked tired today, I laughed and responded that genius strikes when it will. She was troubled until I assured her all was well.

Absolving 15th, 341
There is a great tree and we are not alone on it. I see now what Father has eased me into; the world we know is but a shallow puddle that is a reflection of a great world, an ocean of infinities that allow every possibility, every event every eventuality evening ever evolving every evil every event every eventuality

Ideas flow THROUGH me into this world. I am a conduit. Not even a venal virile voluntary vernal veiny vivacious vessel. I cannot be stopped, my mind is open now. I see hear taste feel smell know.

The others look askance. They do not understand listen agree love. Their minds are closed to the truths of the world. Father is disappointed angry upset emotive sad alone They are alone without him.

HE says there is a stoppage plug hole gap silo focus sphincter that fails broke breaks will break has broken doesn't success needs clear We must help else our world will forever be locked away behind the looking glass mirror window eyes stem leaf.

A letter from Mother arrived. She is well. She is looking to remarry. She is in love. She is sick and I must help her. She should come here but there are no ravens for my letters I am told and that is distressing my mind does not enjoy this transgression my fingers do not like the blood that drips between them as the one who told me no is wrong is sick is dead is no longer with us but still here Father has said so they cannot leave while the water is not flowing the stem is plugged and the leaf will rot. The ship has sailed and it meanders the sea with no safe harbour to call home.
341 Absolving 26th

The others were useful at the last as a tool an experiment a way to commune a means to an end. That which Father needs is a task so far beyond me that I need their help their power their energy their minds.
Why do I record these words? How can I spend time on a work that is not for Father? You do not see? I need you want you hate you devour you see you You are salvation and end and doom and blessing and curse and favourite and will end the beginning and allow the work to continue to completion.

You are my raven now. You will return. I shall ensure your safety. The great gates can be used more than you know. Your safety will ensure your return ensure your death ensure my completion my Father my work my joy my freedom my mind is whole


I see so much and move so little and my world has never been larger yet so small a fractal in the pattern of the whole. I have been broken wrong empty blocked plugged by my weakness I am not strong enough and Father will not make this mistake again. Mortal minds need time need space not all of it not simultaneous worlds rushing and coursing through a virgin field of crops that drown in the water they so crave desire need hope dream but die death end comes from their salvation.


Careful steps do not break the fragile mind.

Father knows this now.

Notes made by Dalitar in his journal:

"Speaking to Sigrid, who has first hand experience of this Aboleth has shed new light on the journal I once picked up in the Library and translated as an exercise. The fixation on a Father figure that I put down to insanity and strained familial relationships was in fact an obsession with the creature itself - which, to be fair, no one in Ypakar could have guessed with the information we have there. This new knowledge has made it increasingly clear that the Aboleth is a valuable but dangerous source of information - it is important that we guard Sigrid's mind as much as we can, so that she remains a sane and reliable communicator (as well as a competant ranger). Speculation - has the Aboleth adopted the name Father because of this Journal writer projecting familial terms on him? Such a creature has no use for them otherwise."

Item type

Book / Document