Skip navigation
Library

A Warning to Those Who Follow

Author: 
Gibberil
How do notes like these always start? In the adventure stories, the dying author begins by gravely stating their name and how they arrived at their deadly situation. ""You may call me Gibberil, and I arrived at my fate through the cruel winds blowing me to my doom,"" or some such nonsense.
 
I'll be honest. Even if I wrote down my name, it's not as though you'd recognize me. Or care. And since you're reading this, then you're stuck on this blasted island, too. So I can't expect you to take this note to my family. Which means who I am doesn't matter to either of us.
 
Here, then, is why I use my last scraps of paper to write you a warning. By now you've encountered those disgusting Hadolids. So did we. When we found the hatch that led down here, we believed it a safe place to regroup and plan. Atunayne began to poke her fingers into every crevice and Dwarven cog she could find. When she activated the construct, it tore off her legs so quickly she barely let out a yelp. Molynire lost a hand beating the thing into submission. And I suspect it broke my arm.
 
This is all to say, if you climbed down into this hole and found this note, whatever you do, avoid touching the Dwarven machinery. Especially avoid those cubes that display the stars. The cost of the curiosity is much too great.
 
We will continue to search the island for any means of escape. I hope we're long gone before you read this.