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Ash-Stained Journal

Side Content

This page concerns a piece of side content which is not a part of any mainline Drehmal map release. It does, however, come from the Drehmal dev team, and can likely be considered fully canon. The lore book may only make sense if you have beaten version 2.2, but it does not truly contain any real spoilers for the map.

The Ash-Stained Journal is a unique lore book found in the top of the Archived Memory teaser map, in an item frame within the burning observatory. It tells the story of two astronomers who lived in this tower in the North Heartwood from the late Av2 1400s to Av2 1531, just before the rise of the Avsohmic Empire.

Summary

In late Av2, an astronomer in the North Heartwood builds an observatory on top of the mountain northwest of modern-day Gozak, with the intention of answering his life's greatest question: What are the stars? At this point, prior to Avsohm's scientific discoveries, the answer to this question is truly unknown, and this astronomer makes it his life's work to study the stars in the night sky, cataloguing them one-by-one. He constructs a powerful telescope, but is unable to make out the stars in any greater detail, possibly representing the first Drehmari discovery of the Veil in the Second Avihm. Unable to discern their true nature, the astronomer instead creates detailed star charts, scientifically naming every single star in the night sky, and deducing that they do move incredibly slowly from their positions. He is also able to discover red-shifting and blue-shifting, visual representations of the Doppler effect, which show that almost all stars in the night sky are moving slightly towards Drehmal, with a few in the western sky moving away instead.

He takes on an apprentice in the Av2 1480s, and in Av2 1485, this apprentice makes an unsettling discovery: a small star by the name of Tsavorite-22 has completely disappeared from the sky. Writing it off as a strange, isolated event, the astronomer pair go about their lives until another star, Citrine-54, disappears 27 years later in Av2 1512. The astronomer grows old and ill, eventually dying in his sleep in Av2 1520 and leaving his work to the apprentice.

The apprentice then takes over writing in the journal, documenting the disappearance of a third star, Zircon-118, in that same year. While the first two stars were relatively obscure, Zircon-118 was a bright star in the night sky, carrying symbolic meaning for alchemists and used for navigation by sailors. Its absence will not go unnoticed, but the more concerning realization is that all of these stars were close together, and formed an approximately straight line. The apprentice uses this pattern to predict the next star to disappear, and is proven correct time and time again, also realizing that the disappearing stars are closer to Drehmal each time.

By Av2 1530, a total of eight stars have disappeared in a straight line approaching Drehmal, and the astronomer has become haunted by this knowledge. In Av2 1531, he sees it for the first time—a bright blue speck in the sky, hurtling towards Drehmal. In a panic, he decides to burn down the observatory.

Transcription

Through the ages, there are many things we've come to understand about Drehmal's firmament. The shapes, positions, and orbital periods of the three moons, the structure of the disc we call home, and the biological nature of the Torahn that provides us light and energy. But, there is one thing that eludes us still.

What are the stars?

These tiny points of light that dot the sky are in the thousands, and in ideal conditions can be seen in the tens of thousands! Yet, we do not have an inkling as to what they actually are. I have a few theories.

  1. The most logical, they are other Torahns. Much like how many fish swim in the ocean, perhaps our Torahn is one of many fish floating in the great expanse?

  2. They are more moons. Perhaps the Star-Rise Drake forged many more moons in the time before time, and those points of light are her discarded "first drafts".

  3. They are a new type of celestial object. Different from the moons, disc, and Torahn. It is understood that objects appear smaller the further away they are. Either these objects are more massive than we can comprehend and are very, very far away or they are very close and true to the size they appear.

Thankfully, I can test all three of these theories! By adding mirrors to a spyglass to amplify the image, we have been able to view the moons and Torahn up-close all the way from the surface of Drehmal.

Now, if I were to increase the size, alignment, and precision of these mirrors I should be able to view objects even further away and in much better detail.

Looks like it's time to get building!

Av2 1472
The observatory has finished construction. Tonight, as the Torahn sets, I will turn my gaze to the stars and hope to glean their true nature. My writing may not reflect it, but I am absolutely giddy! No astronomer before me has created a telescope of such power, and to be the one to uncover the truth of such a prevailing mystery will enshrine my name in the annals of history!

Av2 1474
It just doesn't make any sense. I tested it with Loruhn, and the rocky surface appears in immaculate detail. When I turn my gaze to Lo'Dahr, I can see strange, colorful ecosystems as if I were a bird flying above. I even nearly burnt out my retina this morning when I went to view the Torahn as it rose over the horizon! The telescope functions exactly as it should, and yet the stars refuse to reveal their secrets. Their images, while appearing larger in the view of my lens, gain no more significant detail. They remain fuzzy, blurred and out of focus. It's as if a pane of frosted glass sits between me and the stars.

What are the stars?

Av2 1475
Although I cannot observe them well, I figured I might as well make the most of this fixation. With the assistance of my apprentice, I've begun to catalogue the stars. Name them, count them, record their positions so they can be more easily viewed later. Their positions seem static in the sky, appearing in the same place night after night. Makes it easy to keep track of them. I wonder if that's by design?

Av2 1479
I was wrong! They DO move! Just... very, very, VERY slowly. So slowly that you would never be able to tell, if not for the power of this telescope. I suppose all that effort wasn't for naught. A discovery is a discovery, after all. I just can't tell if they're moving towards us or away from us.

Av2 1482
Another discovery! Perhaps the stars are more generous than they first appear. By passing the telescope's light through a prism, I've been able to determine that a red-tendency denotes movement away from the viewer, while a blue-tendency means it is moving toward the viewer. A minority of western stars have red-tendency, with a band of stars without tendency in an arc a bit less than forty degrees above the horizon. A majority of the stars have a strong blue-tendency. Are they all being pulled towards something? Are we?

Av2 1485
As I've begun to record the tendency of the stars, I've had my apprentice go to earlier points in the catalogue to add the tendency to their data. Tonight, he came to me mildly distressed. He told me that Tsavorite-22 was missing. That was one of the earliest stars I catalogued. I asked him, "Did you double-check the alignment? Are you sure you didn't misplace a decimal or a zero?" I already knew the answer. He'd already made these mistakes early into our cataloging, as had I. I recalibrated the telescope myself, and peculiarly enough Tsavorite-22 was nowhere to be found. The sky is filled with thousands of mysteries, answers unfound. Surely there is some logical explanation for such a phenomenon - we know next to nothing about the stars, after all. The logical part of my mind knows this, and yet the beast inside me is deeply unsettled and I do not know why.

Av2 1498
We've continued to catalogue the stars. We've made no new discoveries, but since the Tsavorite incident we have been going back in the catalogue every so often just to make sure every star is present and accounted for. So far, the disappearance of Tsavorite-22 remains an isolated incident. Sometimes I tune the telescope for what were once Tsavorite's celestial coordinates, just to see if it's somehow returned. Perhaps, by the will of the Star-Rise Drake, the star is there once again.

It never is.

Av2 1512
Citrine-54 has now disappeared as well. This star was in the same celestial neighborhood as Tsavorite, just to the celestial southwest. At this point we've gone back and checked nearly every star in the catalogue, and Tsavorite and Citrine are the only two anomalies. It has been quite some time since Tsavorite's disappearance as well, to where my apprentice and I thought it would be a purely isolated incident - a mystery forever unsolved. But now, with a second star vanishing, it must be some sort of rare phenomena.

I have two theories:

  1. Rihelma continues to toy with the firmament.

  2. If the stars are biological as I've postulated in the past, perhaps they are simply dying.

Neither of these I find satisfying.

Av2 1519
I have not written in this journal for some time. There has not been much more to say. The stars have been mysterious as ever, and yet we continue to catalogue them. I am old now, my antlers are grand and I fear my health is beginning to ail. My apprentice, who has been under my care since he was just a lad, will soon become the master. Once I enter the care of the Soul-Stealer, he has promised me he will continue my work. He will catalogue every star in the sky, and he will continue attempting to uncover their truths. I cannot lie, as my being enters its twilight I find myself deeply unsatisfied. So many years I've spent, and still I lack answers. Many nights I lie awake, thinking of Tsavorite and Citrine. I wrack my brain, trying to find some hypothesis I can test. If I could just view them better, I could understand them better. When I do sleep, I dream that I am a star. I dream that I am all of the possible things that a star could be. A Torahn, a ball of fire, a grand moon, another disc.

The dream always ends the same way.

I disappear. My existence is brought to a sudden, violent, and terrifying end. My star-form ceases to be. In a quiet cataclysm, I become nothing, and until I awaken, that is how I remain.

It makes me dread sleep.

It makes me dread death, if that is all that awaits beyond.

I do not wish to share the fates of Tsavorite and Citrine. I do not wish to disappear. I wish they would have granted me the answers I have spent my life searching for. It has been spent, and I have naught to show for it. I sought so many answers, I sought so much knowledge. And yet, I know nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I know, the only thing I know, the one thing I know for certain...


I do not know what the stars are.


Av 1520
Hello. This is the "apprentice".

My master passed in his sleep not long ago. I can't exactly call it a peaceful passing, though. I heard a wail in the middle of the night, and when I went to check on him he was already under the Soul-Stealer's care. I did not have any intention to write in this journal so soon, and it feels incredibly strange to be doing so. It's almost like wearing someone else's clothes! But, as I promised him, I will continue this journal as new mysteries arise and I make new discoveries. That way, perhaps his name will find its way into history as he always wanted. I will ensure his life will not have "been all for nothing" as he lamented to me a few times before his passing.

So, now for the topic of this entry. Another star is gone, and I am very glad my master is not here for this discovery. The disappearances of Tsavorite and Citrine, while only a curiosity at first, became a bit of a fixation in the later stages of his life. I fear that another star going "poof" would've drawn him into obsession. Especially this one.

Zircon-118, one of the brightest stars in our sky, now a hole in the firmament. Tsavorite and Citrine were part of clusters of similarly luminous stars, their disappearances hardly noticeable. Zircon, however, has historically been an important star for both sailors and alchemists, as it was always one of the easier stars to identify. I fear that while Tsavorite and Citrine's vanishings had gone unnoticed by all except us, people may begin to talk about Zircon. I'm a little reassured knowing that people, gossip as they might, will likely dismiss it as an unexplained strangeness, pick a new important star, and forget all about Zircon in a few years' time.

This reassurance does not go a very long way, though.

They cannot see what I see. What I can see, is the formation of a pattern.

Tsavorite-22, Citrine-54, and Zircon-118.

Three stars, all in relatively close proximity. The three of them, when their former coordinates are connected, form a straight line.

Of course, this could simply be coincidence, or some fact of the stars I do not yet understand. We still do not know what the stars are, and while this does not torment me as it did my master, I still find my curiosity endless. I do not believe that his life's question, "What are the stars?" is one that I can answer. My question now is, "What is happening to the stars?". If they truly are disappearing in a line, I know exactly where to look next. This journal will be updated if my theory is proven correct.

Av 1521
I was right.

Av2 1522
It has taken me some time to gather up the will to pen this update. I apologize for the brevity of the previous entry, as the discovery put me in a daze. As I had theorized, if the stars were vanishing in a line, the next one to go would be Spinel-888. The pattern is undeniable. The stars are vanishing in a straight line. Nowhere else in the night sky has this phenomenon been observed. I've documented every damn star in the entire firmament. I've checked all of them again. And again. And again. And again. My nights for years have consisted of viewing the same exact stars across the sky over and over and over, and always they are there. Except for the ones in this area.

The ones in this line.

That's not all. I had a thought, one I wish never came to me. Not only had we figured out how to tell which direction the stars were moving, we also figured out how to determine relatively how far away they are from us by measuring the intensity of their tendency. Tsavorite, Citrine, and Zircon - all red-tendent stars that are moving away from us. With each, the intensity is less and less.

Not only are the stars disappearing in a line... they're disappearing in a line that is getting progressively closer.

I know which one will go next. It is even closer.

Av2 1524
Gone.

Av2 1525
I awoke this morning and one of my antlers shed in the night. The local healer told me it's a common sign of immense stress, and that I should try to avoid whatever has been causing it.

I wish it were that easy. This knowledge is a curse.

Av2 1530
Yet another. Another. Another. Another. I always know which is next. I know which will go, and every night I sit and wait for it to cease. I sit and I stare. My eyes grow so very dry, it hurts so terribly and yet I do it anyway. I cannot look away. I wish I did not know.

Av2 1531
I saw it.

It's so small, so dim, so mundane. You'd think it was a smudge on one of the mirrors at first.

Without the immense power of my master's creation, you'd never, ever be able to see it.

Its tendency is blue.

Intensely.

The observatory must burn.

Extras

At 58 in-game pages, this would be the longest lore book in the map, and the only that exceeds 50 pages. By word count, it would also beat out A Retrospective as the longest book in the map, by about 70-80 words.

The physical effects of redshifting and blueshifting are examples of the Doppler Effect, a real scientific phenomenon in which wavelengths are perceived differently depending on whether they are moving away from or towards the listener/viewer. Redshifting and blueshifting are used by real-life astronomers to understand the relative motion of other galaxies and stars relative to Earth, helping to understand the expansion of the universe and supporting the Big Bang.

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