GMX00

Day 6.0 - The Vision > I returned to the couch and took the gem in my hand, settling into meditation. This should have been simple. Controlled. Enter, observe, return. That is how it has always worked. I focused, let everything else fall away and then there was no transition. No sense of drifting. One moment I was seated, the next I was standing in the dwarven mine. Not remembering it. Not watching it. Living it. The air hit me first; stale, dusty, thick with the scent of stone. The rock hole was exactly as I remembered it. The crane, the stairs, the scattered bones. Even my body felt the same. And it moved without hesitation. Each strike, each step, each shift of balance played out as if rehearsed. The skeletons fell easily, crushed beneath my blows, just as before. It was familiar. Controlled. Predictable. Then something changed. A deep, violent sound tore through the cave… too soon. Wrong. The boom booms! They went BOOM! Everything

Day 2.2: Blue is bad? > My boredom did not last. After some time, I began to hear them speaking behind me. At first it was low muttering, complaints about road dust, wages, and whose turn it was to “handle the blasting.” But then one of them, a dwarf who insists on calling himself Four Man, began giving what sounded like actual instructions. This immediately captured my attention. He spoke about the mine ahead. About unstable tunnels. About setting charges. About something he repeatedly referred to as “explosives.” I have heard of these. I have heard stories of their boom booms. Apparently one places them near rocks or walls, and then the rocks simply… stop being rocks. I am very interested in witnessing this process. Four Man also mentioned something else — a word I have never encountered before. “Drow.” The others reacted as though this word carried weight. I made a mental note to investigate its meaning. If it is something that

Day 2.3: Scratch and Sniff > Our wagon came to a sudden and rather dramatic stop. At the time, Four Man was still speaking about blasting, tunnel safety or something. I was attempting to imagine the exact moment a rock ceases to be a rock when the interruption occurred. The silence that followed felt heavy, like everyone had reached the same conclusion at once. Apparently something called “goblins” were in our path. Everyone began climbing out of the wagon with the tired determination of people who have done this far too many times. I followed, mostly because I did not wish to be left behind with the chewing dwarf. And then I saw them. Green. Little tiny green guys. They had assembled what can only be described as a ram-shackled structure along the roadside, crooked planks, sagging cloth, and signs written in letters that seemed to be arguing with one another. They proudly referred to this construction as a “shop.” They were selling

Day 2.4: The Rock Hole > We finally arrived at the mine. To my surprise, the mine was not a grand structure, nor an organized excavation site with banners and signage like the mercenary hall. It was simply… a hole. A hole in the rocks. I have never been inside a rock hole before. This realization filled me with unexpected excitement. Before I could investigate further, a figure suddenly burst out of the cave screaming. I recognized the deep blue skin immediately; a drow! I think. He did not get far. A pickaxe flew from the darkness behind him and buried itself into his back with a sound I do not wish to attempt to describe. Then the skeletons came. I had heard of undead before. Stories, warnings, strange philosophical debates about whether something can be both dead and moving at the same time. This was my first time seeing one in person. They were… very committed to the bit. Everyone else sprang into action instantly. Weapons were

Day 2.5: Skeleton Battle Two: Totally Boned > The rock hole was much larger on the inside than it first appeared. Also much darker. My torchlight barely reached the far edges of the rock hole, but I could make out what the others called a crane; a large wooden lifting device that was currently blocking the path down to a lower section of the mine. Beyond it, I could vaguely see injured dwarves pinned or bound against the stone walls. And skeletons. Many skeletons. The goat man moved first. With practiced ease he dispatched one of the creatures, reducing it to a scattered pile of clattering bones. Unfortunately, this seemed to encourage two more to climb up toward us. I decided this was my moment. I focused my ki, stepped forward, and drove my quarterstaff into the ribs of the nearest skeleton. The impact made a deeply satisfying cracking sound. Using the momentum, I spun and struck upward with the back of my fist, cleanly removing its