The Notebook of Nellie Bly

A Journalist's Log
November 26th, 1889
I suppose it should come as no surprise that Mr. Quatermain, Victor, and myself are separated. After wandering through this desolate Realm, I enter a high wooden structure. Inside, ruination. It seems clearer each moment that those in Nightingale were wise to close the Transepts, yet there are signs of humanity everywhere I turn in the Realms. Mankind cannot simply be abandoned here.
I hear noise in the brush and retreat up a crumbling side staircase. I see the shadow of a man below and think to call out in relief. His movements stall me. He is hunched and lurching, at first it seems out of injury, then his head swings wildly, like a hound catching the scent of fox.
I have seen such creatures only once before, not even yet a true Explorer then. Quatermain called them the Bound, a rare and unsettling sight. The beast falls to all fours, running toward some unfortunate soul lost in darkness. I pray it is only an animal.
The night is spent sleeplessly, and I depart in the morning without delay. If 'The Watch', as Quatermain called it, is truly to be humanity's safe haven, I must reach it.
November 29th, 1889
It is not long before I come upon my first human hamlet. A group of some relation, seen plainly in their shared scowls and coarse dark hair.
"They have been near, in the night, more than I've ever seen. The Fae brood, that is," a young woman said plaintively. "But they leave us be so long as we keep the land about the house well lit." The family have boarded the farm windows with garden fencing I share their supper: broth and sour black bread.
"What do you know of them?"
"They're not men, nor even used to be. Don't even know they're Fae-made. Not for certain," an older woman said, with a sharp scowl to the younger. "They and beasts kill one another, but neither gets a meal from it."
One of the men spit three times. "To fend off the eye," he explained sourly.
"Have you seen other people? From the city?" I asked.
"You are the only one."
I came back to the hamlet days later. The people are gone, the buildings deserted. A Tiddalik's mocking laughter echoes from behind the splintered door...
November 30th, 1889
An old Fae Portal brings me to a new Realm, and I feel more a Redcrosse Knight than an Explorer, throwing myself to the mercy of wholly unknown magick.
Before I infiltrated the asylum, I read ghost stories to better feign insanity. Now, those improbable and impossible tales all come back on me, and wintery chills race up and down my spine. It has given me a headache, and, here, no bromo- caffeine to be had.
I had hoped that following the trail of Fae Portals may shield me from our man-made Network's collapse, but there seems to be no logic in their entrances or exits I find myself for the first time, wishing I had paid more attention to Aurelio's lessons into the Knight's archaic Realm Cards.
I must admit to a mounting anxiety in my chest. There is yet no trace of my companions, no way to know the state of Nightingale. I find my usual resourcefulness beginning to run dry. I am uncertain of what may come. Quatermain has tenfold my experience, and he surely sleeps soundly in his fabled sanctuary. Of how kindly Victor fares alone, I am less sure.
December 1st, 1889
Recalling what I can of Aurelio's dry lectures, I draw myself a simple card with the purest intentions. It seems accurate enough, bringing me to a nondescript forest and, in it, a small hovel. Outside, two Druids, husband and wife. They seem at once concerned and unsurprised at my appearance.
"We've made our home here for some 15 years," the wife tells me, "and we saw nary but two visitors all the while. In the last week, a dozen, rambling on of monsters and pale fog. We send them toward the Portal to town, where there's a doctor."
With heavy heart, I inform them of the Network's collapse and the fate of their trusted Portal.
"The townsfolk said the Portal was stabilized, or soon would be. In case we were in need of aid." The man looks about nervously, though it fills me with fresh inspiration.
"Have you a stabilizer on this side?"
"No..."
This Realm would not be my salvation, but any efforts to secure small Networks ensure there are machines elsewhere to be found. With the right combination of cards and a sturdy stabilizer, I may find myself in The Watch by week's end.
Category:Codex