The Search for Dr. Burro

The trial was a fiasco. I am stunned Darien was not able to testify, but considering all else that happened I should be thankful he was not smashed to the floor and carried off to be made into cat food. Likewise, I am also relieved I was not called as a witness. The very act of establishing my identity would have been difficult in and of itself, if not dangerous.

The Labs received a parcel from a Mr. Headburro Antfarm, Esq. It contains the journal of Dr. Headonious Burro, a learned associate of mine from Miskatonic University. The journal was recovered from the shore of Mr. Antfarm's property. It contains a desperate plea for my aid, gone for some twenty years unheard.*

My first trip must be to meet Mr. Antfarm, to find out what research he may have found.

In the meantime I have authorized for Darien's release from Tamrannoch Sanitorium. There seems to be more trouble brewing in this community.


*The Journal's last date is 1909, however the lack of a common calendar among Grid Nations (aside from the Absolute Linden Time which most island nations ignore out of community pride and general disdain for the policies of those reality-engineers) means we must use algorithm just to convert the Miskatonic Valley calendar dates to Steelhead dates.

Esau: Shallow Victory

I was willing to believe that Marcus was defeated, but for the fact that Sword of the Blood Wing Knight vanished along with his remains during the distraction is cause for alarm. What is most disturbing is that the exact nature of the sword's enchantments have been lost to history. Ash tells me that all records of the Blood Wing Knight (obviously a previous recipient of the Curse)were destroyed by the Founder himself. We do still possess the armor. Straight off we can tell it was not forged from metals native to this plane.

With most of the Mason family at hand to assist, we have transferred Darien's brain into what was left of his body, with some additional surplus. Regretfully, his mind has failed to adapt. He is convinced his delusions are real, and any who disbelieve them are in fact delusions themselves.

I am not surprised that he refuses to believe I am his father. By the time I decanted him and his brother, most of the man I was had drowned in that insidious compound. That realization does not lessen the anguish in any manner.

In this state he is still a danger to himself and others. We have no choice but to isolate him until he recovers. We have telegraphed Mr. Fourway. Tamrannoch Sanitorium will have a new Resident.