Ijax’s Log; Day 409 addendum
I took the clever moron, what’s his name, the madman, down to the machine. Maybe he’ll be able to finish the damn thing. I gave him the basic information: what’s broken, what’s unbalanced. He says he can do it, but he’s got these ideas way above his station, something about poisoning the whole town. I dunno what to think about that. I made it clear that he isn’t allowed to leave until the field mice are burning beneath my feet. It might be that he’s a lucky find, and maybe he’ll serve us well.
(Below follows a crude sketch of the machine. It appears to be a giant black chariot, with flames shooting from the front,along with a row of spinning picks. On its side is an abstract drawing of a roden wearing an impressive helmet and wielding a vicious sword)
Or maybe he’ll burn to death trying to get the fire-thrower working and give us all something to watch. Wouldn’t be surprised. Men seem to catch on fire quick for creatures with so little hair. A bunch of my men have been burnt pretty badly from that thing, but as long as they’re still willing to test it I must be paying them enough. Perhaps.
I can’t trust any of them. I’m no idiot. I know that I’ll probably die with a dagger in my back, that someone will try to poison me or set a bomb in my machine. Maybe even that madman! He seems unpredictable, perhaps violent; he might know his way around explosives. But I must trust someone. The missus tells me so.
Darkness-in-Darkness’ Spirit Memory
I received orders from Sergeant-in-Arms Infondato to take The-Mountain-Spirit-Corpse-Eater alive. The pack will do this.
Infondato is a fool.
No no! Ijax is a bad one, this place is a bad one. First, and most important. Doc comes down here. Maybe the terrible machine made him terrible. Doc goes and yells at Krim to use the horrible, bad machine. I ran, I couldn’t do anything else.
Ijax’s Log; Day 409 add-addendum
And again! The guardsman shows up, guards and peasants at his back and made a whole show about getting the madman back. I expected a duel, some real violence, but the armored twit barely spoke to me! He is a lesser man than I expected, perhaps the above will be my children’s conquest.
Still, there is cause for worry. My new engineer told him to “return at dawn”, despite my orders. Worse still, he has the audacity to ask me to try the machine, as though it’s all finished. He is a bastard and a liar, it seems, and work must be done.