At last, you arrive at a stone bungalow within the deep forest. Tangled vegetation encases ancient blocks of granite and overflows onto the surrounding area in a dense wet thicket. Leafy tassels spill over the stout dome and drape the walls, dressing the worn stone and moss in algal flora and filling cracks in places formed of long disuse. In the dim light the clearing is perfectly tranquil, as if home to secrets undisturbed for centuries.
Your reach for your bag, then think better of it when your trembling fingers fail to open the lock. There is no need to consult your journal. This is it, it can only be this and no other. You reach toward the door - and nearly stumble as it swings wide open in your face.
"Ho!" a cry comes from within.
You jump back. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkened interior.
When they do, you are startled to see a slender young man in a t-shirt standing across the threshold. His dark eyes dart to and from your face, as if nervously expecting some greater surprise.
It takes a moment, but before you can form words he suddenly smooths his composure, and beams. "Hello! I am Я̷̺͋i̴̯͋ɔ̷͊ͅʜ̴̲̈́ɒ̷̡̂ɿ̵͙̀b̵̙͋, a student of mathematics studying at the University of W̵͓̍ɒ̶͖̈Ɉ̸̡̇ɘ̴̜̄ɿ̵̤̊l̷̥̊o̸̲͋o̵͚̚." he says, "Congratulations on finding my study. I didn't think anyone would come here!"
This... can't be right - the journal - the carvings - this must be some trick. You were promised wealth and power - the imbecile is blocking your way inside!
You push past him, into the darkness. The room within is the epitome of squalor. Dust coats every surface, pages lie scattered across the floor. A drip from a crack in the roof trickles steadily onto a soggy stack of papers. Even the furniture is broken - the table bowls inward, and a splinter dangles uselessly off a three-legged chair. But you ignore it all. There! A faint ray of light from the drawn window falls on a wooden chest over in the far corner. Faded, but unmistakably Blue. Like the robe cut from the tomb of the priest - the same color as the sash in your journal. Tekhelet blue, bearing the trace of divinity. You fall to your knees before it, and pry. With a cry of triumph you wrench it open.
A tattered scroll lies inside. Trembling, you unwind the sash and hold it up to the light. Within the worn and yellowed parchment, you behold the following strange and cryptic exhortations:
- This repository was founded in the twenty third year of the new millenium, assembled piecemeal by a traveller who befell of many misfortunes in a foreign land, was natheless impelled to seek and suffer, who betook to keep of certain reflections and souvenirs from his travails, shameful assays from which he hath no doubt derived a measure of perverse pride.
- There lies a thin line madness and death; walking it requires the total denial of this truth.
- W̴͇̏̈́ḧ̴̡̝́̚̕ĭ̵̧͔̋̈́l̸̼̼̬͝s̶̨̛͎̘͠t̴͔̝͈́̏ ̷̹͊̀ţ̵͙͉̅ḣ̶̹͎ę̷̯̿͒̒͜ ̵̖͌̑͝k̵̥̄̈́ḛ̸̐͒t̷̬̬̰̓ẗ̸͚̼́͑͛ĺ̴͈̈́͒e̵̘̠͙̍ ̷̘̩̳̾̽i̵̺̓̈́̂s̸̪͉͋ ̴͖͂b̷͎͇̭̒o̵̱͔̗͌̽̿i̷̺̊́̚l̸̯̀͘i̸̘̔̃ṋ̸͙̉̆ͅg̷̨̮̑̈̿,̴̦̕ ̸̘͂̔ṃ̷̹̂a̸̳̒͌̇k̴͎̦̊ē̴̫͜ ̵͔̫̋y̵̳̿̕ȯ̸̳̻̺̊̀ụ̷̲̒͛̐ṛ̶͉̐̓ş̷͕̱̓͐͊e̷̡̪͉̓͗̓ḻ̸͇̳̓̈́f̷̲̂ ̸̬̼̆͛ä̷͍͉͜t̷͈͍̎́ ̴͈̲͔̚h̸̺̠̀̀̓ͅȯ̶̯m̶̨͙̫̋ê̵̹̘̪̾͠.̷͐͠ͅ
- Every man is an island, entire unto himself. His shores are bulwarks against the ever-rising tide, and if one part shall break off, so should the shall before long, till at last he is reclaimed by the ever-rising tide. That he should persevere against its slow embrace is natural, there is as much beauty in the world as there is loneliness, and surrender gives up every possibility of the former without easing the latter.
- 1 large egg 3/4 cup packed light brown sugar 1 1/3 cups mashed ripe bananas 1/2 cup walnuts 1/3 cup vegetable oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 cups flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon salt.
- The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.
- Hail to Qtermxnztu, Lord of all Madness, Keeper of the Pit, Progenitor of demons, Unwatcher of the Deep!
- Pardon the mess! You may find my writings, mathematics, and miscellania stored over on the top shelf.