jan 1, 2002 - Martha Astor returns to Ittosiviik; she investigates Old Oakburn

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(Circa 2002)

"The land remained still, accursed by a tragic silence for over five years. Old Oakburn, a village hidden between barren mountains and white snow. In its heart, the depth of the lake. A single road connects the village to its neighbor town, Ittosiviik. After five years of neglect and decrepitude, it has become treacherous, overgrown with weeds and twigs, the path barely visible amidst the snow. I'm here now, I am home. Today, into those dark depths I must venture. And behold the secret, the very root of my curse. These waters go much deeper."

"For now, all the evidence collected from the 1997 phenomenon is abstract, frantic, ambigious, and reveals the arcane nature of the case. Manuscript findings, diaries, newspaper entries, and the cassette tape depicting the Magnum Opus... In some of these samples, one notices a strange constant. I believe to have found a promising clue, a line of investigation that will lead me to the truth, or perhaps condemn me to the most horrible perversity. A monolith, raised in the woods that surround the lake. On its surface, etched is the oft-mentioned sigil: The Sigil of Marvpyas. Crumbly, covered in moss and stained with moisture. The stone, however, reveals a more intriguing nature when analyzed in depth. I found it possible to deduce the monolith's true purpose; A tombstone. Before the monolith, we are likely to find the entrance to the tomb. I will be conducting a solo expedition. I here now ask the department to allow the investigation to be conducted by me and me alone. My roots are here, my marks share the same curse. His sepulchral depths are mine to explore. For those who may inadvertently stumble upon these discoveries, stay away. Here there are destinies greater than death."

"Upon prying open the tomb's entrance, it revealed a vertical descent of absolute darkness, a pit that reached the depths of the Earth. And from said pit, a horrible smell. A putrid, rotten miasma rushed to the surface. Despite the unbearable exhalations, I pressed forth and began the descent. Black moss covered the walls, forever damp. The smell of fish carcasses, putrid scales. Disappearing into the ossuary, a gentle walk to cursed ruins to meet what roamed the ancient grounds. Our sigils burned in proximity. The pungent abyss of the mortuary dragged me to secrets long forgotten, to disrupt the knowledge better left unseen. A terrible familiarity, repressed memories of times of wrath, afflicted me in short flashes. This terrible burden, this obsession being dragged to things occult. Ethan, was this how you left?"
-Martha Ludolf

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