"Stupid Diary"

Item · 50 gp · Weight 2

"Day 1 Captain Ling ordered me to keep these records. He told me that he's going to read them every night to make sure I'm not losing my marbles. It sounds like a load of rubbish to me, but I'm not going to argue with a paladin of Iomedae who's three times taller than me and twice as wide. Not a chance. No incidents today. Day 2 No incidents today. Day 3 Captain Ling told me that he won't tolerate my 'casual attitude' to the expedition anymore (!!!). These paladins are just bullies. They'll happily beat the living crap out of you — while explaining that it's all for the greater good, blah, blah, blah. But fine, I'll behave. I am Binaban Rizzel, a gnome, an explorer, and a pathfinder, assigned by the Grand Council of Absalom to help the paladins of Iomedae on their expedition into the Enigma. I wish I had never written that article about Areshkagal's secrets. If I had known all the trouble it would cause me, I would have never published it in the first place. Damn it, Ling, why am I writing all this? You know perfectly well who I am, and what I am doing here. I don't think that a few prompt killings of a bunch of lesser demons by a squad of well-armed blokes can qualify as incidents, so no incidents today either. Day 4 We've been walking in circles around this stone labyrinth for four days now. My legs are killing me, truth be told. Oddly enough, the food is good. I was expecting field rations — some nondescript gruel, but it turns out that Iomedae's paladins aren't opposed to a good dinner. The walls of the labyrinth are covered in strange writing. Some of the inscriptions are truly ancient. They date back to Earthfall times. Others have been made more recently. And then there are some that I don't recognize at all... and I'm a linguist, mind you! Whenever I fail to translate an inscription, Captain Ling frowns and turns away. But what am I supposed to do? We have found significant evidence that all kinds of creatures from different planes, and even different worlds, used to visit the Enigma. I have already spotted the unholy symbols of the demon lords Baphomet and Aldinach. While the presence of the latter is unsurprising — the sisters have been at each other's throats since birth — the appearance of Baphomet and his cultists is quite intriguing... What does Areshkagal, the Keeper of Secrets, have in common with the Lord of the Minotaurs? Except for their irrepressible fixation on these damned dark labyrinths, of course. Speaking of which, Ling. Don't you think that four days is a long enough time for a reconnaissance mission? I'm starting to get homesick. Day 5 You won't believe what happened today! While trudging through this damned labyrinth, we bumped into a group of Areshkagal's cultists — a bunch of ragamuffins wearing white masks. Ling hailed them, but when they produced some rusty knives and tried to fight, they were quickly killed for their foolishness. Serves those idiots right. That'll teach them to choose their cultish beliefs more carefully. But that's beside the point. What was strange about these cultists is that they weren't just dying — when they were cut down, they crumbled into dust, and vanished into nothing! Their bodies disappeared completely! It was unbelievable! All that remained of the cultists were their white masks. Of course, our brave paladins trampled them with their boots, but I managed to salvage one intact. Ha! So what are you gonna do to me now, Ling? Will you try to take it away from me? You wish! According to our contract, you agreed to let me collect non-life-threatening, non-magical archaeological artifacts. So, I hereby officially declare that this totally useless white mask is an archaeological artifact! I intend to wear it, walk around wearing it all day, and even go to sleep with it on! And you can do absolutely nothing about it!" The last entry is written in an uneven, shaky hand that bears little resemblance to the previous entries. "Day 6 All right, Binaban, focus. Pull yourself together, you spineless moron! So, I woke up a moment ago. I stretched. And then I started to wonder why I hadn't heard the paladins. They never allow me to get a good night's sleep! So I look around, and they're all lying on the ground — dead. Their fingers were curled up into fists, their hair was white... some of them had their hands clutched to their chests, and others had pissed their pants. It was as if they had all seen something horrible... something terrifying. But I know what they saw. Areshkagal's ugly mug, that's what! The legend says that anyone who takes a peek under her mask will either go crazy, or die where they stand. So, I was just over here, sleeping like a baby in my little mask, and they... Well, Areshkagal came to pay them a visit, and... So why the hell am I still writing in this stupid notebook? Ling is dead! Kicked the bucket, and all his fellow paladins with him! That's it, kaput! I have to get out of here! I need to pick a direction — it doesn't even matter which one — and try to find the exit! And I need to keep the mask on. I have no idea what it really is, but without it, I'd be lying next to Ling now, cold and dead."