Dungeoneering Journals - *I Need Your Help!*

[Tnt6200]

[spoiler=Mysterious Chronicle - Part 17]

 

[spoiler=Mysterious Chronicle - Part 20]

 

[Pinata]

[spoiler=Mysterious Chronicle - Part 17]

 

[spoiler=Mysterious Chronicle - Part 20]

 

 

If you need any just ask, and am I missing any besides marm & thok pt6?

 

Edit: didnt realize it goes to pt 20. lol

[Saradomin_Mage]

I've got the full set of M&T, including pt 5, if needed, and I think I have misc 16 and 17, which aren't associated with bosses but are just random drops.

If you want I can also post the dialogue for completing the M&T set.

[Michael]

I have them all minus M&T 3.

[All_Bogs]

The items database currently has chronicles 1 through 22, M&Thok 1 through 8 and notes for bosses up to but not including Yk'Lagor. Glorious credits await for anyone who can contribute screenshots of missing book texts ^_^

 

The dialogue for completion of the M&Thok series would also be appreciated.

[Saradomin_Mage]

Big Image : Dialogue for Letter Completion

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[All_Bogs]

Been a bit busy, completely forgot about this topic :-X sorry! I'll add the dialogue shortly.

 

Any screenshots of book's text we're stilling missing (see above post) would still be appreciated :)

[Pinata]

Chron 23-30 atm

 

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Chron23

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Chron24

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Chron25

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Chron26

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Chron27

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Chron28

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Chron29

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Chron30

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[Capt_Davy]

I don't have any screenied, but I do have all of them transcribed into a text file.

 

Since I don't have it hosted online somewhere where you can download, it, I'll just copy and past it here. Sorry for the excessive spacing, it works better in notepad, and I'm in a bit of a rush atm, so I don't have the time to edit it.

 

 

 

some quick things:

-current in-game date: Year 169 of the 5th Age

-the scrap of parchment from the portal notes is a piece of God letters Issue 19 - Guthix Embraces Change.

 

warning: this is very long. its a transcript of *all* the journals plus the secret Marmaros and Thok dialogue after.

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----------the Chronicles of Bilrach----------

Part 1

 

Year 1225 of the 4th Age:

 

Finally! After four long years of bringing in weak-minded fools to follow my cause unknowingly, today is the day - the day I begin the great descent. Today, my research pays off and the journey begins; today, I journey down towards ultimate victory.

 

My power is as true as the whispers calling.

Today, I begin.

 

Praise be to Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 2

 

Year 1241 of the 4th Age:

 

After years of evading detection, my research finally led me to the castle above. It seems similar to that of the dragonkin of old: protectors of the artefact, enders of the Great Wars. Of course, I should have suspected It to be hidden in a manner as straightforward as this! fools to abandon such a place; why would they move on? It must all me linked in somehow, but time does not allow for further investigation. My power now is to be used on one thing: forging through the very earth that separated me from my goal.

 

Praise be to Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 3

 

Year 1266 of the 4th age:

 

Many of the weak minded servants and slaves are moving with me as I go deeper. What curiosity or purpose drives them? I didn't even have to force many of them. I cannot dwell; as much as i hate to admit it, I need them for now. I must have the rearguards and the servants to dig the early sections out. I won’t be wasting any of my power doing this; I'll save myself for a challenge worthy of me taking a more frontal role. For now, I'll have to settle for the role of slavedriver.

 

Praise be to Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 4

 

Year 1285 of the 4th Age:

 

There has been acceptable progress since my last entry, but still I crave for more. I will have to work on re-awakening my lost power. While my mighty slumber restored a large amount of power, it was once again lost in my great search for this place. Evading detection required some interesting methods and many disguises, which has again left me drained. I have faith. In time, my full power will return once more and, when it does, I shall break through the world with such a fury as to make Him proud.

 

Praise be to Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 5

 

Year 1313 of the 4th Age:

 

Those fools! I pity the imbeciles of my kind. To think they looked down on me and doubted the extent of my power! Pathetic. Zemouregal, if he could only see me now, he would now be so quick to judge my abilities. I have no doubt that he'll be wasting his time on some lost cause for power that he'll never obtain. They'll see my true strength in due time; they'll see who will be sacrificed, they'll tremble at the mention of my name!

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 6

 

Year 1324 of the 4th Age:

 

The area I've broken into below is beginning to exude more heat. It might even be suitable for my minions to dwell here, to more efficiently serve my cause. Those who refuse to move here out of fear of my power, I will just force or kill. They dare not to question my rule. They dare not stand up to a Mahjarrat. They dare not question me, Bilrach, their master.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 7

 

Year 1337 of the 4th Age:

 

The soil I tunnel through is like no other. Someone or something has created this place as some sort of safeguard. Sometimes, when I use my magic to carve through, the areas behind collapse and reappear elsewhere. There is some magical force at play here that is hard to comprehend. Recently, many of my servants were cut off - they said the dungeon I'd forged had a different layout from when they left.

 

On the topic of servants, they are more frail than I feared. The giants last longer, but they can no longer fit into the small tunnels their human counterparts dig. I'll just slay them all and use their meat to feed the other slaves. Hah! How I do amuse myself so!

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

Part 8

 

Year 1403 of the 4th Age:

 

It turns out that I was right: the area above has begun to cool to freezing. My servants are moving deeper with me; it was pleasant to see them do it voluntarily for a change. Perhaps they believe themselves to be with me in this great descent? Ha! They'll last as long as their use permits, and they'll follow me deeper if they want to survive. As if I'd stop to maintain an area for them to live in!

 

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 9

 

Year 1424 of the 4th Age:

 

If memory serves, I've passed the two-century mark of tunnelling into this place. I feel the pull of the pour below. If I reach the bottom, great reward will be mine and the world will burst open as I dominate the kingdoms of this frail world. Enough, I must return to my work. I cannot guarantee that I am the only one seeking this, and must beat any who also seek it, as if they could stand up to me.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 10

 

Year 1446 of the 4th Age:

 

Yet more meatsacks have perished under these conditions. Why they insist on sleeping and eating once or twice a week irritates me to no end. They leave me no choice but to mate them up and breed new offspring to continue my journey.

 

The depth I have reached is of a different potency to the above. The rock and heat are suitable for simple beings to survive. Obviously a powerful being such as myself has no problem moving on, but this would probably be the best depth for my slaves to settle so they can serve me more effectively. For my purposes only, I will slow my progress to extend a hand in helping them set up. They'll make up for this later.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 11

 

Year 1464 of the 4th Age:

 

I'm as clear of mind as the day I started this descent. My methods and the nature of this place may seem random, but I've yet to use the more dangerous and unstable side of my power. My sanity is unwavering; hearing whispers from the earth below is not a sign of my mind breaking, it merely confirms I am getting closer and should continue down. Should I be concerned that the whispers try to guide me?

 

Zamorak guide me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 12

 

Year 1505 of the 4th Age:

 

Progress is frustratingly slow, as of late, but it is progress at least. I'm nearing the end with every day and I must retain my focus, my drive. I know what dwells at the bottom - there is only one thing powerful enough that can emanate power across planes of existence. I must be right.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 13

 

Year 1533 of the 4th Age:

 

Finally, those fools near the surface who refused to follow were forced by their need to survive! To think I didn't have to lift a hand in the end.

 

Today, I hear of a mass exodus, all moving down to this depth. I know this is a higher power's doing, bending the will of the world to my cause. I continue.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 14

 

Year 1573 of the 4th Age:

 

Forty years have passed since my last entry and finally, this area is completely self-sustaining. A working chain of production has been created amongst my slaves. The digging should be far more efficient and, more importantly, I have a solid rearguard if any choose to come after me. As if anyone would try to follow in my footsteps now! On the subject of slaves, i've had great success in my breeding program. I've taken the strength of the giants, the skin of the goblin and the size and basic intelligence of a human, and created a barely adequate but much-improved slave. Conditioning has sped up progress also. I've even bred them to believe pain is good for them! They'll literally work until they drop dead where they are!

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 15

 

Year 1641 of the 4th age:

 

Is it fate that significant progress is made on the anniversary of my start date? Four-hundred years of careful destruction and here I am, nearing the half-way mark! If I can make it half-way, I can make it all the way. I swear my power increases the deeper I go. It will not be long before I unleash on this earth. I will be closer to the end than the start. Soon, I will be at the Rift!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 16

 

Year 1645 of the 4th age:

 

Centuries have passed since I awoke, but, still, there has been no sign or word of the others. Pathetic. I see now why He chose me as his second in command. If the creation and summoning of the mighty Tsutsaroth demon for Him wasn't a sign that I am worthy of that title, what I am doing now will be. None of the others dare to do this; none of the others have power to do this; none of the others have the focus to do this.

 

They settle for scrabbling around with what is left and they will be punished for their lack of faith. Curious, I still feel the presence of K'ril in this realm...

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 17

 

Year 1693 of the 4th Age:

 

It turns out that I have been rewarded for my time creating the area above for my workers to inhabit, as it will serve as a powerful hub to the surface and help speed my progress. Even so, the fact that they fear the depth below is a concern. Thankfully, I can force a lot of the cowards, but I fear it won't be enough to make quick progress. The time may be coming for me to use some unstable methods.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 18

 

Year 1724 of the 4th Age:

 

A disgrace! I thought losing servants out of fear to the depth was bad, but now rebellion? I quashed this before it had a chance. Two treacherous fools dared attack me? History will mark this day: the day Astea Frostweb and Lexicus Runewright were enslaved by the mighty Bilrach and split for all eternity. They thought their combined magical ability could stand up to me? Small-minded fools! They will never be together again and will serve my purpose as guards of my great dungeon forever. There will be no further uprisings after that demonstration.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 19

 

Year 1730 of the 4th Age:

 

A new depth has been reached and it is weak to my magic. Using portal magic should be safe enough here. If the portal network is successful, I can not only dump our waste and effluence into another realm, but I can search for powerful creatures to enslave and defend my great work here.

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 20

 

Year 1824 of the 4th Age:

 

Nearly a century passes and I have been rewarded. Portal magic was the best move I could have made, and it has reinvigorated my enthusiasm for this project. Not only am I able to draw power from the portals as I once did, but I've manged to enslave ever-more powerful and destructive beasts. The stalkers, the lumbering behemoths and the curiously noble Kal'Gerions are all creatures of my will now, defending my great work as if it were their own. Those who search for me and follow my footsteps will have brutal obstacles to overcome. Now to find something even more powerful!

 

Zamorak be prasied!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 21

 

Year 1890 of the 4th Age:

 

I hazard to call it a disaster, but something grossly unwanted has happened. One of my portals malfunctioned and a race of troublesome creatures crept through without me noticing. They refer to themselves as the gorajo and they manoeuvred against me from the very start; their culture despises the reanimation of the dead and the summoning of demons, it seems. The backward fools. While my powers are great, they have a habit of keeping out of sight, so I fear this will be a long fight.

 

Zamorak guide me!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 22

 

Year 1911 of the 4th Age:

 

Curse the gorajo! The air here is turgid with magic, and no matter how many times I close the portal to their realm, another reopens. I've decided to forge on; those pathetic creatures will pay later. I will reach the Rift soon and come back to destroy them once and for all.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 23

 

Year 0 of the 5th Age:

 

I've heard that some are calling this the beginning of the Fifth Age; it would seem suitable if they weren't calling it The Age of Man. Bah! I rename it The Age of Reckoning! I will allow the humans three hours to celebrate, and then we work again. I will not allow them any longer than that: revelry leads to rebellion, and I cannot afford to massacre them as we get so close.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 24

 

Year 5 of the 5th Age:

 

This is it. The area below is weaker than the bedrock I have been forging through, and my magic carves through it like saw through flesh. This must be fate's reward for seeking the interplanar portal below, the portal that separates me from my Masters realm of banishment. To think He could have been banished and contained! Vile trickery...

 

I, Bilrach, will find this Rift, where the barrier between realms thins.

I, Bilrach, will re-open it and release my Master upon this world once more.

I, Bilrach, will release Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 25

 

Year 24 of the Fifth Age:

 

Curse the blasted gorajo! They've wasted more time and progress than I care to expend. Their elders and children will pay for their misdeeds. I vow, here and now, that I will sunder their world with the power I acquire at the bottom of this place. Blast them and their cowardly raids, their burning of the beams and structs, and their plundering of our resources.

 

Zamorak be praised,

Gorajo be damned!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 26

 

Year 45 of the Fifth age:

 

As promised, I'm recovering whatever time and depth we have lost to the gorajo. I have found methods too push faster and farther; my portals rip through floors like never before, and anything anything I leave behing is dumbed as waiste in the gorajo realm. let their families pay the price for their warriors slowing me down! I grin too think of the welcome they'll be given by their families when they return home.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 27

 

Year 79 of the Fifth Age:

I pulse with it now: the power that seeps from the interplaner rift. I cannot be far, and we progress with exhilarating speed. I question whether my proximity to my Master has meant that he lends his power to mine. Wait - if He has such influence on this world, could He not break through Himself? I must not sully my purpose with doubts: the end is to close.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 28

 

Year 118 of the Fifth Age:

 

While I destroy and carve through the land with a satisfying ease, the areas behind me are becoming alarmingly unstable. Just today, one collapsed and the interplanar shockwaves caused the earth about it to warp and corrupt. While this corruption is concerning, I refuse to be stopped. I move on and force the slaves who remain strong enough to come with me. I will not look back now, I leave my problems in my wake.

 

Zamorak be praised!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 29

 

Year 137 of the Fifth Age:

 

His whispers have turned to voices, and I am close to Him now. I am but a few years from the end; yet, I fear the progress will be slow. So much of my power is spent defensively, propping up the floors that threaten to crash down upon me. The floors above are warped, out of control and dangerously unstable. I have trouble containing them, so, instead, I have chose to protect just myself. That being said, what followers I left behind are now lost to corruption, and I fear that a foe will rise that even I could not deal with. Still, I move on alone; if I make it a little deeper, this area will serve as a challenge for anyone who tries to reach me.

 

Zamorak guide me!

 

 

 

 

 

Part 30

 

Year 165 of the Fifth Age:

 

The end cannot be far now, I feel the dark energy around me, draining me: shouldn't it be empowering me? The voice tells me to stop writing. Have I used up all my power getting this far, or is it ebbing through other means? The voice tells me to push onwards. I know my master will have the answers. I'm still myself. I must listen to the voices and push on.

 

Zamorak be free!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

----------Stalker Notes----------

Stalker Notes Part 1

 

4th Age, year 1832. Date unknown.

 

Of all the creatures our master has brought through from other realms, the stalkers are by far the greatest triumph. Their very form is weapon in itself, floating grotesqueries that are essentially giant eyeballs, or clusters of eyeballs with vicious maws in places none would expect. They also command great control over magic; even the rank and file stalkers and the smaller seekers have great resistance to the magicks of our world. The dark, twisted energies that are so rife in their home plane, coupled with the inherent magical nature of the beasts themselves, have allowed several unique and powerful stalkers to develop from chaotic evolution. One such unique example calls itself 'Plane-freezer Lakhrahnaz' in our tongue. I regret asking it to state its name in its own tongue, as the resultant combination of both audible and indaudible sound from its many lipless mouths gave me a huge headache and caused blood to cascade from my nose, which Lakhrahnaz then froze. This one has great power over temperature, and I believe the best place for it is to near the surface, where the environment is cold, barren, and most importantly - far away from me.

 

 

 

 

 

Stalker Notes Part 2

 

4th Age, year 1832. Date unknown.

 

The stalkers build nests formed of a combination of debris and biological matter that they produce and spit from their gaping maws. They mainly use their nests for resting and growing, but also to spawn in them. The creatures reproduce asexually, from what I have witnessed; a single eye with a snake-like optic nerve slid out of one of the creature's eye sockets, burrowing into the nest and out of sight, presumably to grow. I have such knowledge of stalker nests because a particularly powerful one calling itself 'Night-gazer Khighorahk' has set one up in what used to be my private chamber. I came back to find my enchanted torches extinguished, and an unnatural darkness. When I lit one of the torches, the creature shrieked and recoiled, lashing at me with its tentacles. I extinguished my light source, and the creature regained composure. It seems this creature is at home in darkness, and uses the cloak of shadows to its advantage. I have decided it is in my best interests to requisition new private quarters and leave the beast to its doings; we will soon be moving further down to rejoin the Master anyway, and this creature will act as a powerful guardian against any daring to follow us.

 

 

 

 

 

Stalker Notes Part 3

 

4th Age, year 1832. Date unknown.

 

The stalkers are intelligent creatures, and are capable of startlingly intellectual conversation in our tongue. The varying magicks that the different types of stalker use also shows that they are each capable of independent thought. The creatures also seem to react to others far away from them, indicating some kind of shared consciousness. The stalkers are a strange and powerful race, and I am glad they chose to ally with us, instead of rallying against us. Such powerful, intelligent creatures could have caused our Master serious hindrance. The stalker I saw today was, as usual, different from the rest by some degree. For a start, this creature cannot, or does not, fly. It drags its mass along the ground when it is forced to move; however it tends to suspend itself from whatever is available using long tentacles. The creature has positioned itself above the ladder shaft that leads from this floor of the dungeon to the next; a perfect position to guard the only point of access to the next floor from interlopers. This stalker calls itself 'Shadow Forger Ihlakhizan' and wields both light and darkness to attack its foes. I witnessed it disposing of a slave who tried to flee the dungeons. While the slave was fighting it, Ihlakhizan let out a brilliant flash of light, disorienting the fool. In a panic, he fled and took refuge in the shadows, which engulfed and devoured him, leaving no trace that he was ever there. This creature is by far the most unnerving and grotesque of the stalkers I have witnessed thus far. I will be glad when we abandon this floor tomorrow, and move on to the next one.

 

 

 

 

 

Stalker Notes Part 4

 

4th Age, year 1832. Date unknown.

 

Fourth Age, year 1832. Date unknown.

My studies into the stalkers have given me a reputation among the other mages, as if my findings are less worthwhile than their empty parlour tricks. They cannot see the magificence of the stalker, the repugnant wonder that fills you whenever you stare into their eyes. Just yesterday, I strumbled upon another reason to admire them. While I sat and sketched in a stalker nesting pool, a bovimastyx wandered in. Before I could shepherd it back out, a large single-eyed stalker rose from the pools and began circling it, its single pupil flashing with some form of luminescence. I sat back down and took notes, while the bovimastyx whinnied and looked understandably uncomfortable. Halting suddenly, the stalker flashed a red pupil and exploded with a thunderous crack, knocking the mastyx to the floor, bloody and stunned. I could only watch in fascination as smaller stalkers slipped from the larger stalker's carcass and began to devour both the body of the mastyx and what must have been their mother. A wondrous sight.

 

 

 

 

 

Stalker Notes Part 5

 

Fourth age, year 1845:

 

My journals are missing, I have horrible, terrible images of Bilrach pacing through the upper floors of Daemonheim, poring over and disrespectful entry and tearing it out - littering the floors with my prose. Indeed, everything written has gone missing from my offices: the requisition forms, the environmental notes, the written pieces I have collected on my travels. Nothing good can come of this. I fear a terrible cloud hangs over my in these weatherless depths.

 

There is nothing left to do: I must continue as if all is well, and merely hope. My next task is to research a creature newly come to this plane; BIlrach has asked me to write notes on Shklarhazh, a stalker that is remarkable because it is so unremarkable. It is neither aggressive of communicative. It shall be a curious case, and it could yield useful results in taming of the stalkers - but my dark cloud also has a voice, and that voice tells me that this stalker is by no means Benign. Bilrach, be merciful; let this not be a trap.

Grondaban.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

----------Kal'Gerion Notes----------

Kal'Gerion Notes Part 1

 

4th Age, year 1837. Date unknown.

 

The Kal'Gerion demons that our Master has brought to us through his experimentation with portals are powerful allies indeed. These demons were already an army when they were contacted by our Master. After a brief demonstration of his power, their leader, Kal'Ger the Warmonger pledged allegiance to our Master, and began ordering his armies as he instructed. The rank and file Kal'Gerion demons are essentially lesser and greater demons as the rest of the world knows them. The significant Kal'Gerions are the generals in the army. The one known as To'Kash has great magical powers, and can manipulate moisture and temperature levels in his environment. He has been stationed in the cold upper levels of the dungeons, where he can make most use of his powers - with the amount of cold moisture already in the air, he can encase anything in a large block of ice with a mere snap of his demonic fingers. His favourite party trick is to freeze something alive, and scatter it with a mighty blow of his fist, leaving a pile of fragmented ice, bone and blood in his wake.

 

 

 

 

 

Kal'Gerion Notes Part 2

 

4th Age, year 1837. Date unknown.

 

The Kal'Gerion army has a very simple military structure: Kal'Ger is the leader, his five generals immediately below him, and the lesser and greater demons make up the rank-and-file fodder. These order themselves by strength, constantly battling for supremacy, competing to rank the highest amongst the lowest. One general in the Kal'Gerion army is Har'Lakk, known as the Riftsplitter. This demon uses portals to other planes in a very interesting and unorthodox way. The one time I witnessed him fight, he opened a portal in the ground of this plane to the point above an erupting volcano in another, and the explosion of flames, ash and magma, incinerated his opponent effortlessly. This ingenious and unpredictable use of portal magic makes him a highly effective combatant. He can control his combat environment and create deadly hazards for his opponents at will, making the ground beneath them as much their enemy as Har'Lakk himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kal'Gerion Notes Part 3

 

4th Age, year 1837. Date unknown.

 

The Kal'Gerion demons hold power of all forms in high esteem. The generals brought before me, up to this point, have been users of various kinds of magic, and it is good to know that raw brute strength is recognised and held in high regard among the Kal'gerion. Bal'lak the Pummeller, the latest of the Kal'Gerion generals to be placed in my charge, is everything that epitomises a raging demon. He smashes things with his two huge hammers, as hard and as fast as he can. His blows are so powerful and the rage running through him so fierce, that his hammer blows carve cracks in the ground, out of which bubbling magma and noxious fumes rise. For this reason, I have decided to post him in the abondoned area of the dungeons just above our current habitation and ritual area. The potential for collateral damage should he get into a fight is large, and I would like to keep our current habitat, well, habitable.

 

 

 

 

 

Kal'Gerion Notes Part 4

 

4th Age, year 1837. Date unknown.

 

Bilrach was presented with face of a dead Kal'Gerion at banquet today, which intrigued me. It seems that, when in the presence of a superior, a Kal'Gerion will offer a gift from the body of a demon they bested in combat. The more powerful demons, meanwhile, know that they cannot be bested in one-on-one battle, so taunt and belittle the smaller demons, goading them into fighting each other. I think of one Kal'Gerion as I write this, Yk'Lagor the Thunderous, who thinned his ranks by forcing them to kill each other, and then demanded new troops to be brought in from the Kal'Gerion realm. Mages report to me that Yk'Lagor is still in occult floors of this dungeon, being bled of his power as a lesson to those greater demons who would question Bilrach. The display of power should mean that Bilrach receives more Kal'Gerion body parts in the future.

 

 

 

 

 

Kal'Gerion notes Part 5

 

There is a Volatile respect between Bilrach and Kal'ger, and it is easy to see how the unlikely alliance has persisted. Kal'ger, for all of his petulant rage and sulky retreats to the demon forge- has gained the utter respect of a nation. His demons have installed him as their leader and taken his name as their own. Bilrach, I suspect, dreams of that depth of respect; his charges meekly die or serve him out of fear or lack of choice. In Bilrach, Kal'ger sees an unfettered power and raw power is the currency of the demon nation. In Kal'ger, Bilrach sees the respect he expects to gain from finding our master. They are a dysfunctional family, but a potent and powerful one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

----------Behemoth Notes----------

Behemoth Notes Part 1

 

4th Age, year 1824. Date unknown.

 

Our master's experimentation with portals to the other realms has brought us many interesting creatures. One of the most significant races discovered are the ones we call behemoths. These vast creatures are physically powerful, and some even possess latent magical powers. Unfortunately, they are not evolved to the point of communication, and are capable only of following natural instinct, not instruction. A pity, but they still have their uses. We shall place them throughout the dungeons as guard dogs. There is a particular strain of behemoth that is well-suited to the frozen-over areas near the surface. It has a thick hide, and is entirely driven by a natural desire to feed. In these barren, frozen areas, food will be more scarce, and I believe this creature will fight all the fiercer for it.

 

 

 

 

 

Behemoth Notes Part 2

 

4th Age, year 1824. Date unknown.

 

The more I see of the behemoths, the more impressed I am with the diversity of the sub-strains within the same race. The analogy I gave of dogs is more appropriate than I had imagined; numerous creatures of various sizes and psychological characterics are all part of the same genome and share only a basic shape. The latest strain brought to my attention is one I have affectionately dubbed the 'bulwark beast' on account of its hard, rock-like outer shell, and the adorable shield-like mandibles it employs to protect itself from incoming attacks. These creatures are essentially invulnerable, so long as their shield remains intact, with only magic having even a modicum of effect on them before the shield is removed. These creatures make excellent guardians, so, I shall place them in areas of the dungeon that we no longer concern ourselves with inhabiting, in order to ensure that even the areas we have long forgotten pose a challenge to interlopers.

 

 

 

 

 

Behemoth Notes Part 3

 

4th Age, year 1824. Date unknown.

 

The plane the behemoths come from is a vast, open wasteland. It stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction, and different areas have wildly differing climates - permanent blizzards to scorching deserts to salt marshes devoid of all life. This has allowed for the astronomical difference in physical attributes the creatures display. Thier skeletal structure remains the same throughout strains, but the hardness of their hides, shape of their mandibles and claws, the bulk upon their bones and their size vary greatly. The specimen that I was brought before today is one extreme example of these creatures' diversity. I was brought before it and not the other way around, because only part of it could fit through the portal to our realm. What I stood before was a huge face with claw-like mandibles, angrily thrashing about and trying to force the rest of its ample frame through the portal. I was decided to leave it as it was; the portal it had come through was directly in front of a door we needed guarding, and, as long as we bait the portal daily, it will spend most of its time guarding it. I have instructed my underling mages to set up similar 'arrangements' with other specimens of similar size, all over the area we now inhabit. They will keep us well-protected from interlopers and cannot get deep enough into our realm to devour anyone of intelligence level that renders them worth keeping. In the event we need to get through any of the doors, all we need do is close the portal to be rid of the beast, in an admittingly horrifying, albeit amusing, manner.

 

 

 

 

 

Behemoth Notes Part 4

 

Fourth Age, year 1824. Date unknown.

 

The behemoths have never been a stable race, or particularly predictable. They may be useful, but their influences and actions have meant losing two years of digging through cave-ins and countless resources being spent on taming them, often with no luck. Our problems stem from them being near-impossible to kill or herd back through their portals should they become unruly. Once they are here, they are here permanently it seems. Runebinding is the elegant but expensive solution, whereby a behemoth is infused with rune magic and then controlled by magical pulses through a series of pillars. Lexicus came up with the system, before his mind wandered, and we haven't been able to improve on it since.

 

 

 

 

 

Behemoth Notes Part 5

 

Fourth Age, year 1824. Date unknown.

 

I try to spend as little time with the hope devourers as possible; indeed, the rooms about their pens are often empty and few handlers dare to venture close. This should make feeding them difficult, but the truth is far more interesting: when bovinmastyx are herded into a devourer pen, they file quietly towards the devourers and drop to the floor, accepting their fate. Some even nuzzle the devourer's maw, as if willing themselves into its mouth, and, naturally, the hope devourers oblige. This hopelessness is fascinating, and that fascination is obviously shared by Bilrach. He spends many hours with them, feeding off their energies as they feed off his. He returns invigorated, and they seem stronger for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

----------Miscellaneous Notes----------

Astea Frostweb's Journal

 

4th Age, year 1724. Date unknown.

 

Entry 1

 

It has been five years since Lexicus and I first signed up with Bill to assist in his work. It pains me to be away from my Lex. He is deeper beneath the ground, but I prefer the temperature up here as I am used to the cold climate. I shall visit my Lex later in his library; I have gone starved of his embrace for too long. Bill claims we are digging toward the biggest magical discovery in the history of RuneScape, and, with what I have witnessed here, deep beneath the surface of the world my love and I left behind, I become more convinced every day it is true. I can only postulate to what awaits us at the culmination of all our efforts.

 

Entry 2

 

I have been asked to perform some peculiar tasks today - troubling almost. Bill has asked Lexicus and I to create various magical traps and obstacles on the floors of the dungeons above us. The reasoning he has given is to ensure progress continues unhindered from uninvited guests, but the traps and mechanisms he is asking us to build seem just as capable of keeping people trapped inside the dungeons as they are keeping unwanted visitors at bay. I am beginning to grow suspicious of Bill's motives. I wil take my concerns to my beloved; perhaps, together, we can make sense of this.

 

Entry 3

 

Lexicus has uncovered a truth too horrible to comprehend. We must kill Bill. We go now to confront him, and put an end to this madness. May the gods protect us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lexicus Runewright's journal

 

4th Age, year 1724. Date unknown.

 

Entry 1

 

These past five years have elapsed so quickly that, were it not for the calendar hanging on my wall - each day marked off with a tally drawn by my own hand, or that of my beloved Astea, I would refuse to believe it had been five years at all. Silence and solitude have been available in ample amounts as I chronicle our descent towards what Bill believes will be the magical discovery of a thousand lifetimes, but their appeal wears thin. Later, I shall don my fur coat and brace the cold nearer the surface; I can bear the loneliness no longer, I must see my Astea.

 

Entry 2

 

I am growing suspicious of Bill's intent. I fear paranoia has addled his mind; he has tasked Astea and myself with sealing the way from the surface, to protect the discovery from those who would take it from him. He trusts me enough to task me with this - perhaps I can get him to confide in me further. I would feel much more at ease if I knew what it was we are digging towards, and why it is so important to prevent anyone else getting in, even at the cost of their lives. I will speak with him tomorrow, but for now, I go to Astea. She has been acting strangely since we were given this task. I think she shares my concern; perhaps we can find comfort in each other's words.

 

Entry 3

 

We stand at the precipice. Bill would cast us all over into the darkest of darkness, and bring ruin to us all. Astea and I must confront him. May the gods give us strength.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Divine Skinweaver's journal

 

Each day my shame gets harder to bear, like an ox dragging a mountain to which a pebble is added every day. Of the skinweavers, I alone was chosen to accompany the party that my brethren sent through to the Dark One's realm. My task was to keep them alive. I am all that remains. The failure of my task is as clear as mountain spring. I cannot return to the gorajo. I will not inflict my shame upon my people. I will remain in this world, and do what I can to aid those strong or foolhardy enough to challenge the Dark One. This area is full of unstable passages to other worlds that bring unspeakable beings into this one. I seek to stem the flow of evil, to protect the ones from this world from the fate that befell my brethren. Perhaps they can succeed where I could not, and I can take some semblance of comfort from knowing I helped the ones who may one day avenge my fallen brethren, and lift even a little of this mountain of shame from my shoulders.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Price of Betrayal

 

To all who read: beware. This is the cost of defying our Master's will. Give yourself to the Master, or he will take everything that makes you human, and, in unliving servitude, you shall spend the rest of time taking the lives of others to slow your decay to nothingness. If you refuse to work in life, you will work forever in undeath.

 

Hail Bilrach!

 

Hail Zamorak!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arch Nechlord Request

 

Dearest Father,

 

We bow to your power and understanding, but ask that healthier bodies are brought to us. The plague wastes the humans, and gnaws at the bones of the afflicted, making their reanimated bodies similarly weak; as skeletons, they topple and chatter their teeth in complaint. Although your purpose is great and the Ultimate Task is approaching, we ask, as on, that you send firmer flesh and sturdier bones for us to sculpt into and army for you. Praise be to Zamorak!

 

Arch Necrolord.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tombstone Transcription

 

I have transcribed the words written on Grave Creeper's tombstone: 'Here lieth Atlus Creeper, grave digger. His riches were bones, and he stole liberally. We ask that you steal his riches with the same abandon. May his grave be toiled, his body spoiled and the worms grow tired of being turned.' I believe that, by reading the gravestone, I have been gripped by a terrible curse, wasting my body. I can only hope that, by reading this transcription, the curse has been transferred to you. I apologise, reader, but my situation calls for desperate action. Please do not take it personally.

 

Radgund.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Resource Requisition Orders

 

Requisition Order #1445

Name: Rammernaut Hoskins

Position: Captain of the Rammernaut Guard(lower floors)

Requested: 20 Bovimastyx, 200 rotten bouldabass, 100 human carcasses, 10 salve sacks of bones

Fulfilled: No

Notes: Request was barely readable, the writing was childish, and requester failed to provide any reason for the request. No records exist for why these organic materials would be required in the lower floors. Sub-standard written skills are not accounted for in subject Hoskins' personal profile, nor is the strange jelly-like substance that covers the requisition form. Request forwarded to head of guard for further disciplinary action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gulega Missive

 

Good news, fellow sachem! Bilrach, like a cub playing with adders, has brought the gulega here! We, the gorajo, have adapted and evolved to fight the gulega for longer than our histories: we know where to stab and where to squueze. Yet, Bilrach ambles into our world and brings in the gulega like a mother cat with rabid kittens in its mouth. His handlers will fail to tame them, and his stormbringers will fail to kill them; so, the gulega will run amok, hurting Bilrach more than helping him. For once, in the long back-and-forth between the gorajo and the gulega, we are on the same side working against a common enemy. Our ancestors would marvel that this was ever possible. Bilrach, you have overreached yourself, and we sing praises to you for it.

 

Sachem Bloodrager

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Portal notes

 

Fourth Age, year 1840.

Date unknown.

 

Today I chanced upon a strange event, a singularity if you will within one of the many unstable portals of these floors. Such a spectacle I could scarcely believe, as I beheld the ruins on the distant surface above us...but in their former glory. No rubble, no icy peninsula, but a lush green plateau with a dark castle standing proud. After a time the vision shifted and returned to its familiar breeding glow, and I confess in my sadness I lowered my head. There at my feet I saw a lonely scrap of parchment, presumably swept through in the vortices of time. Its prophetic message fills me with unease, and I shall hide it within the folds of these pages and ponder on them when I can be sure of my solitude.

 

 

-Scrap of parchment-

 

I know for many mortals sleep doth exist only as periods of inactivity, but this is not true of myself.

Mayhap the word slumber was an inexactitude of mine; as thou may know of me, I find the language of mortals problematic, just as understanding the message of the wind, or the songs of sand wouldst be difficult for you. My slumber was the slumber of the caterpillar as it becomes the butterfly, or the slumber of acorns as they dream of oaks.

 

"It consumed my attention wholly, for I was gathering and focussing mine power in preparation. Mine rest was not a case of lack of consciousness, rather it was a focus of concentration so great as to exclude all other activity by myself."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

----------Marmaros and Thok letters----------

M. and Thok part 1

 

Little sister,

 

Cheating, blasted, cheap magic! I've said it before, but I mean it more then ever. Our paranoid seers have waved their magic wands across the dungeon entrance and made every item that crosses it, save our undercrackers and overclothes, too heavy to bear. Thok lasted a few steps, of course, but even he had to make his excuses and ditch the battleaxe.

 

Still, it's not only our seers who think we're at the source of the wave of power: Thok's shackles have raised too. Strike me if I don't believe 'em all: we're a few floors beneath an ancient castle in a dungeon that's soaked in magic and lively with beasts.

 

Got me thinking: if something is here, you can be sure that Thok'll find it first. I'm going to find a moment to break from the clan and go it alone with just Thok. Where there's power there's money, and I plan to carry away armfuls of the stuff.

 

Your older brothers,

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

Part 2

 

Little sister,

 

Hell, I miss you. I know that doesn't sound much like me, but I have good reason. Since we split from the rest of the clan we've been getting by with our plain clothes and fists, but there's been one close call too many. Time has come to arm us, dress us and feed us, and you do that better than any I know.

 

So I'm scribbling this on an anvil, having made a battleaxe, sword and a couple of platebodies. The workmanship is about the shoddiest I've ever seen, but I get a buzz from looking at them! It's the materials though Bryll; there's stuff here that you've never seen: Metals strong and completely alien, and strange plants that can be spun to make boots. Since you're what keeps us moving, we've named the boot material after you. I aint told Thok yet, but he's wearing Marmaros armour; couldn't resist giving my name to the metal.

 

Your older brothers,

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

M. and Thok part 3

 

Little sister,

 

Thok has gone berserk. The lughole won't wait for me now, and I'm following a trail or ash and creature bones. Only yesterday I'd been slipping out of Thok's shadow to carve into the bats, shades and warriors that would try to flank him, and he'd been spraying the walls with their innards. But today, we came upon something out of a hellishfairy tale. Hanging from the ceiling was an eyeball swaying from its stalk and dripping goo to the floor. Thok was on it from the start but the eye secreted some terrible spittle that kept me rooted. I would have retched if I could move and muscle in my body; instead, I could only watch as Thok wrested it from its stalk. Problem is, Thok reckons I'm in over my head, so he's blitzing a clear path for me to follow. Only thing that stops the sentimental thuggish fool is the keys, puzzles and locked doors; if they didn't slow him down, I'm sure he'd be at the bottom of this dungeon by now.

 

Your older brothers,

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

M. and Thok part 4

 

Little sister,

We met someone today. That's 'met' in the talking sense, rather then the stabbing crushing and gouging way that we've gotten used to over the the past week. (Has it really been a week? Damn, what a place this is.)

 

That someone was a she, and, in her own way, she was pretty. Said she wasn't new to seeing humans like us. We parted on good terms and she handed Thok some 'primal gloves', given to any gorajo who braves the 'warped pits'. Looks like fancy-pants gauntlets, but Thok's wearing them with a gormless smile on his face. The hairy fool is in love.

 

The good news is that I held my own. Thok had to rein in his huge swing, for fear of hitting 'his lass' with the battleaxe, so I was able to nip in and do most of the work.

 

Who knows, perhaps Thok is happier about fighting by my side now?

 

Your oldest Brothers,

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

Part 5

 

Little sister,

 

Honestly who would be crazy enough to use a book as a weapon? Mad Melzar maybe, but there's no telling if he's even alive anymore. Just our luck, then, that we stumble on a crazy libraromancer, or whatever you want to call him, who pelts us with books rather than, I don't know, rocks, weapons, or bones of the dead. This place must have a hell of a grip on the mind.

 

The books got me thinking about why I write these letters. There's the obvious reason: it takes my mind off this endless dungeon, but I think that's missing the point. Even with Thok, the human shield, I can't help but feel that we won't make it. These letters are little scraps of our story, and I naively hold onto a hope that you'll get them, or someone else will find them useful. With the rest of my illiterate clan above us (hell, they make a lot of noise) that hope seems misplaced, but you never can tell,

 

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

M. and Thok part 6

 

Littul sister,

 

Marm got stomped but not so bad that he dead. I protected him the best I could, so please dont get mad at me. The big stomp creature so strong and fast, faster then Thok, but not as strong. I mashed up eels for Marm as they made me upchuk anway. I hope Marm will leave and will write to you again. That always makes him feel better. I can't hear the noisy feet of my friends above us anymnore. Whoever at bottom of the dungeon is Thok's now.

Your older brother,

Thok

 

 

 

 

 

Part 7

 

Little Sister,

 

Guthix bless Thok! He's looked after me in the most random and unexpected way! I came back to consciousness with the body of a dead icefiend tethered to my leg. An icefiend! Which side of the line does that fall on: madness or genius? So, thanks to the wayward logic of my brother, my pain has numbed and I am up and about again. From Thok's broad smile, he has missed me. He looks thinner, having had no one to cook for him, and there is a deep gouge in his side from a fight that must have come close to besting him. I try not to think about how far upwards he must have travelled to get the icefiend for me. Thok may not have a brain, but his heart could beat for both of us.

 

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

M. and Thok part 8

 

Little sister,

Thok's wound is festering, be damned! I could have...should have... noticed and cleaned it earlier, but I got distracted by my own wounds: and so here we are, in dungeons that are fetid and rank with corruption; sores have welted on the side of the wound, and it's in a bad temper, giving off a

rotten aroma. It gets worse, little sister. The wound is like catnip to the undead on this occultish floor, and they

stagger after us in their hundreds. With Thok flagging and more enemies than ever coming for us - even as we sleep - I worry that we have reached our limit, as I've certainly reached mine. My concern is that Thok will not turn back until he has reached the end of this place, like a pebble

striking the bottom of a well. Is there glory to be found in that?

 

 

 

 

 

Part 9

 

Little sister,

I can't think or sleep for worries when'd I get like this, Bryll? Terrible visions of the future plague me: you, begging in the alleys of Varrock; Thok's wound, cankerous and rotten, opening to reveal a giant eye; and me, tongue rolled to the back of me throat, as I am prepared to be eaten by the warped creatures op this place. I... I can barely walk forward and more now Bryll, and Thok will not look at me any more. He says that I am not myself and won't walk to me until his Marm' comes back. Bless the brute - imagine being so empty of any concerns or doubts.

 

We are down one floor shy of sixty (I have notches on my primal sword hilt), and a huge hulking beast awaits us in the next room. That's nothing remarkable, but the thoughts of another battle seems to ebb all energy from me. it's like my hope and will-to-survive has been devoured. I...I think I just want to say goodbye,

 

Bryll.

M.

 

 

 

 

 

M. and Thok 10

 

Littul sister,

Thok never been as angry as I am now. I will explain to you, Bryll, but it will take more words than Thok ever written before.

 

Every floor that Thok and Marm go down in the dungeon, Thok wanted to break skulls, break the walls that hold up the dungeon, break leg off that holding Thok back. Then Thok get to bottom of dungeon, There, there was no evil wizard to kill, no big boss to tear in half, no dagger-moth throat to slit. Nothing. Nothing but a body, dead and wriggling with maggots.

 

So, Thok and Marm sat. Silent. We come so far and nothing wait for us, no death nor gold nor women.

 

It was at that point that words started speaking in Thok's had, saying horrible things and filling head with hate.

 

Same must have happen in Marm's head. Marm began to cry, tried to slit own throat with sword, but Thok broke Marms arms and draped him over shoulder. Marm passed out, which for the best.

 

Thok sat some more, try to think of what to do in the darkness. Then a man comes. Man looks Fremennik but smells clean. Man has white beard and say words that hurts Thok: 'You not chosen for this'. 'You die if you see what really is down there'. Bah! Man makes Thok so angry!

 

Bright man is more powerful than Thok - Thok can smell that much. Man heal Thok's leg and unbreak Marm's arms, but he say that Marm cannot continue, that Mark is close to going mad. He wants to take us to the surface, to take us away from this place, and will not take no as answer. Thok so angry, Bryll, but knows that man is right. Thok could not let Marm go mad. Marm is strong mind to Thok's strong blade. So, we return to surface after so long here.

 

Will anyone believe Thok? I leave letter in hope that someone can make it here. That mean someone must show strength of Thok. Thok fear that on-one will see this in Thok's lifetime. It sad thought.

 

M. and Thok

 

 

 

 

 

-----------Conversation with Marmaros and Thok-----------

-------after finding all 10 journal entries-------

 

[Player]: I managed to find all your letters.

 

[Thok, Master of Dungeoneering]: Marm! Marm, wake up. Thok was wrong, someone managed to find our letters!

 

[Marmaros, Rewards trader]: W... What - all of them? You... You know we made it to the bottom of that place?

 

[Player]: You must have done. The letters go all the way down to the lowest floors.

 

[Marmaros, Rewards trader]: I can't believe it! Do, you know what ha... happened to me? Why I have trouble thinking? Why I can't even sl... sleep for fear?

 

[Player]: Neither of you remember? Your letters aren't clear, but it was like someone pulled a plug and drained Marmaros of all hope and optimism. You became suicidal, and Thok had to stop you hurting yourself by breaking your arms.

 

[Thok, Master of Dungeoneering]: Not remember that at all, but it feel true. Thok and Marm, can't remember what happened at the bottom of the halls at all, [Player]. Memory a mess, like when Thok fell asleep in keg of stout.

 

[Player]: You wrote that somebody saved you and brought you back here: a man with a... white beard, I think you said. I guess he must have-

 

[Marmaros, Rewards trader]: A white beard? No, it couldn't be...

 

[Thok, Master of Dungeoneering]: Haha, look! Marm must be getting better: he using his head again!

 

[Player]: What is it?

 

[Marmaros, Rewards trader]: I.. I can't be sure, but I might have an idea of who this man with a white beard is. There's someone I need to talk to... someone who has a lot of explaining to do.

 

[Thok, Master of Dungeoneering]: But for now, Thok have work to do, and mustn't exhaust Marm from excitement. You have thanks, [Player]. Thok will sing your name at tonight's eveningtide.

 

[/hide]

[All_Bogs]

That should cover mostl of it then. Awesome, thank you very much! :)

 

Assassin5757, would you like to be credited by your forum name or by your in-game name?

[Michael]

Notes for all bosses Yk'Lagor and up. Also my Journals:

 

[hide=My Journals][/hide]

 

[hide=Yk'Lagor the Thunderous]

[/hide]

 

[hide=Blink]

[/hide]

 

[hide=Warped Gulega]

[/hide]

 

[hide=Dreadnaut]

[/hide]

 

[hide=Hope Devourer]

[/hide]

 

[hide=World-gorger Shukarhazh]

[/hide]

 

[hide=Kal'Ger the Warmonger]

[/hide]

[All_Bogs]

Thank you for posting those pictures Michael :)

 

There's 20 misc journals? We have 1 through 12 listed on the site. I would assume three of the remaining ones are the journal drops from the Gulega, Blink and Dreadnaut. What else is in there?

 

Also, in the itemsDB entries on the site, we typically include the number as which a misc journal entry is listed in game. Would you mind telling what numbers the gulega missive, blinks scribblings and resource requisition orders are listed as (as well as for the other misc journals if you don't mind posting those)?

[Saradomin_Mage]

Blink's scribblings - 13

Gulega missive - 14

Resource requisition orders - 15

Portal notes - 16

Scrap of parchment - 17

[Michael]

Blink's scribblings - 13

Gulega missive - 14

Resource requisition orders - 15

Portal notes - 16

Scrap of parchment - 17

 

All above correct.

 

[hide=Portal notes #16][/hide]

 

[hide=Scrap of Parchment #17][/hide]

 

[hide=Letter to an Acolyte #18][/hide]

 

[hide=Letter from Brundt #19][/hide]

 

[hide=Strange Token #20][/hide]

[Pinata]

You can credit off my forum name, and here is Marm & Thok pt 9/10

 

 

Pt9

[hide]

[/hide]

 

Pt10

[hide]

[/hide]

 

Tip.it should now have all the journals!

[Unknown_Warrior]

[hide=Strange Token #20][/hide]

 

Speaking of, why IS there a FOG token in deep dungeons?

[All_Bogs]

All of the journals should now be available in the items database. Cheers folks :)

[Michael]

[hide=Strange Token #20][/hide]

 

Speaking of, why IS there a FOG token in deep dungeons?

 

It's part of the storyline. Work it out.