Draedon's Logs are five miscellaneous items that hold lore based around the location their Arsenal Labs reside in. When used, each log item brings up a custom menu that the player can click through and read. Almost every page has an accompanying illustration.
A freezing tundra, where only creatures entirely adapted to the subzero temperatures exist and thrive. It is a shocking transition from the forests of the purity and the sun baked desert. A climate like this should not exist naturally in this part of the world with ease. The weather patterns seem to shift unnaturally arounds the skies of these icy plains. There is likely a reason for this, which necessitates further research.
Intriguing. Though embedded deep into the caverns of ice and worn from centuries of frost and meltwater, I have uncovered several mechanisms which once filled the tunnels here. The ingenuity present is remarkable, and I have found parallels within my own work, as well as devices even I have something to learn from. From where do these come? Why machinery so complex in so sparse and dreary a habitat? Perhaps, they are related to the unnatural conditions.
I am not the only singular being to inhabit this biome. Once before, the Archmage who opposed the Lord resided here, cloaked by constant artificial blizzards of his own creation, which no longer fall. He likely chose this place as a conduit for research into his ice spells, and extended the period of time that this place remained frozen. Deep underground my research and materials lay well protected, but above in the natural storms there are traces of the prison of ice he resides in, still haunting its place of creation.
As I record this, it would not be a stretch to call the jungle the hub of this planet. All is centered around it, and none know not of it. It brings me no small amount of unease to see the uncomfortable, raw forms of the living beings who pass through on their journeys above. Fortunately these labs provide everything I need in my research and more. There is no need to ever visit the surface, save for summons on the Lord's orders.
A virus, capable of devouring and converting almost anything. And nanotechnology, constructed painstakingly for the sake of control. Development was swift, and every piece fell into place almost eerily, forming an abhorrent existence. I struggle to think of practical applications which would be friendly to common life forms. However, it is not a major concern. Many were hesitant to continue its creation, but I granted them leave if they desired. I would have no need for any who were not entirely as dedicated as my machines.
Mechanically augmented, the Queen Bee which I had prior experimented on was theoretically a perfect host for the plague virus. When the first sign of the technology bonding with the creature began however, the problems also showed immediately. The mind of the insect fought the control of the nanotechnology, nothing like the simpler creatures I had used as test subjects. It grew increasingly violent, and only once subdued did it receive simple orders. However, if we were to utilize it at all, there is no other way than to let it roam free entirely. I will consider this further.
Preserved for millennia, a paradise for the living beings who sought shelter in prehistoric seas. They remain untouched by evolution, save for their adaptations to the oxygen starved waters and dim crystals, continuing to thrive. One mystery which continues to escape my understanding however, is how large some of the creatures have become. There is a blatant lack of nutrition and oxygen in the caves, and yet...
The marine life in these caves do have eyes though they are barely functional, dulled by lack of use and milky white upon observation. On their tough, gnarled hides, crystals find an easy purchase, and grow in great numbers, providing the creatures protection. Perhaps another adaptation to the life they have adopted. The most striking wonder is within their bodies. In specimens dissected, I have noticed that the mineral is buried into their very digestive systems, and perhaps, through some chemical process, pass nutrients into their sluggish hosts. A peculiar yet entirely beneficial interaction.
A specimen which has developed a grand size, and inexplicably, impressive psychic abilities. What is most curious is its strong connection to its lesser kin. Without any noticeable communication, when it comes under threat, other mollusks rally to its aggressor and begin attacking. Is this perhaps the very first signs of a higher life form, the evolutionary link hidden away in the sunken sea? Or a self sacrificial fluke, which would lead to their destruction if they inhabited any area other than these pacified caverns.
Hung low in orbit, masses of ground and various parts of the world provide a secluded and distant point for research. Undeniably optimal for the science of astronomy and otherwise. In my labs here I grow many things, testing their limits against the cold and vacuum of the stratosphere. Though not many survive, the existence of certain creatures here, confirm the capabilities of life simply given more time.
I do not care much for the interstellar, or the cosmos. Though I have traversed it, there is still plenty in my own world to manage and discover at this time. Even if I once inhabited a different planet, the Lord's wishes that I provide him machinery were the only condition that I needed to leave it and settle elsewhere. Once I have discovered and dissected every part of this place, perhaps then, I could look up towards the macroscopic.
The bloated cosmic worm, though I understand why the Lord decides to employ it given he can control it, is a disgusting existence. However the idea of creating an armor suited to it in every way, was an offer I could not refuse. Forged from the cosmic steel of my own creation, it resists nearly any attack, yet allows the creature the same flexibility it would have without it, as well as augmenting its dimensional abilities. I remain pleased with the result.
The entire landscape is a constant source of geothermal energy, and heat for a forge. If it was not entirely uninhabitable save for demons and spirits, I would conduct much more of my research in the bowels of the earth. Where I have actively chosen not to settle however, is in the crags of the underworld. There, the magma is... uncooperative and far more corrosive than should be possible, as it is saturated with cursed, twisted souls, courtesy of that Witch.
What a terrible abomination and yet an enticing subject. Not unlike the fusion of spirits which haunts the dungeons, this entity is formed not of one, but a multitude of sinners. What holds different for it however, is that the limitations caused by the artificiality of the dungeon's existence do not apply to it. It is the laws of hell which brought them together into a single overlord of the underworld. And when an innocent life is sacrificed... Their hunger, which appears to be in tune with the afterlife, surges.
A blade completely inundated with my surroundings during the time of its creation. It was tempered by the fires which are fueled by spirits, and formed in the magma I draw into my laboratories. Its cutting edge, unparalleled, though its reach is limited making general usage questionable. I would consider it my very first foray into work for the sake of craftsmanship and art. If I was born synthetically, any creation which leads one to question whether I was, is a creation I may be proud of. It shows that I can after all, be graced by a muse.
This page was last edited on 8 October 2020, at 19:43.
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