Downtime, Project: The Darkening

Adric closed over the book he was reading and rubbed at his shadowed, tired eyes in frustration, resting his head in his hands a moment. He parted his fingers to glance over at his journal, laid open with all the notes he'd gathered in his research. Questions leading to analyses of texts, leading to the formation of hypotheses, which only leave more questions and few concrete answers. Adric sighed and shoved the book he'd been reading aside, dragging his journal over in its place to add further commentary.

In conclusion, while I know more than I did before, it's not nearly enough to answer all my questions. I now know that the Maw of the Void is an ancient Forgotten God that was split apart and lost in the Cataclysm, but I don't know what this entity represents or what purpose it serves. I also understand that the purpose of the Ritual of the Unrending of the Void is to make the Maw whole again; however, without further context regarding the Maw, I cannot even speculate why Erdrad would wish to perform it. Neither do I understand the role Erdrad intended for myself or Maya. He needs us for something, but I don't know precisely what.

There are other questions that remain unanswered as well. What became of the two First Prophets of the Maw who, according to my research, survived the Cataclysm and took the remaining parts of the Maw into themselves? The intent was for them to join their spirits with those fragments, allowing them to grow inside both Prophets. But what happened to those Prophets and the fragments they carried? What were the two ritual implements that were lost by the Cult of the Maw and has Erdrad recovered them somehow? I have questions still, and I have exhausted all avenues of research that are readily available to me. There are only a few routes I can think of that might lead to the truth I seek, none of which are safe to investigate. I might not be able to do this alone, as I have tried thus far to do. It might be time to ask the others for help.

He winced and set the pen down as he finished. He had hoped that involving the others would not be necessary, but that had been foolish of him. But he hadn't known if he could really trust them in the beginning, and he still had doubts. The matter of the Wraiths still haunted him. Was he just being naive, thinking they could have honestly tried to mend bridges with the Wraiths and forge an alliance instead of pitting them against the Billhooks and watching them slaughter one another?

The explosions and cries of dying men and women came back to him. The smell of smoke. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw Quellyn's staring back at him. Shocked and surprised. Betrayed? Frightened? At least one of those had to be true, and he couldn't blame her for either. Even though they'd been rivals as long as he'd known her, he hated himself for going along with the plan as soon as the others promised him they’d keep her safe.

And he was scared of himself too; the ideas that popped into his head, the methods he was willing to consider to protect those he cared about. He flicked through his journal, scanning the notes he'd made on developing his own version of spirit finish and a method for extracting the 'materials' needed for the process. By the Void Sea, he'd even used that word - materials - as if he were talking about some herbs or elements instead of a human soul. Other ideas were scrawled inside there, written in terms just as clinical, and seeming just as vile to him as he looked upon them anew. He slammed the book shut in disgust, before picking it up and throwing it against the far wall of the workshop. It hit the wall and landed on the floor with a thud as Adric cradled his face in his hands and held back the tears that threatened to burst forth. No matter what he was feeling, he couldn’t allow himself to cry, he had to be stronger than that...

-

Far above, in the skies over the lair's underground location, clouds swirled and roiled as if to mirror the stormy emotions running through young Adric's mind, and a bolt of lightning struck a weathervane atop the structure that was once known as Tremont Station.