Essence Memory read. Post-hoc. Trace residuals. Read Date: 72 Standard Hours ago.
Date of Occurrence: Unknown; ~between 50 to 100 years prior hitherto. Soft Extraction: 12.72 seconds, 80.43% true exact; Estimated Loss: 18.6%; Information Distortion: 9.51% ± 3.333REPEAT.
Generated Advice: ≥95% true exact & ≤5% loss recommended minimum before reconstruction and transcription. Send venerian salvager for total recovery or ROOT-expand for direct assimilation.
Response to Automated Advice: Ignored.
Precipitating Event reconstruction accuracy: 94.2%, 0.8% below acceptable minimum. Inferential approximations applied for completion.
Translation(s) auto-applying; from-function: SOURCE(s); to-function: Polymathic. Context preservation: 98%; analogous stereotypes applied.
Keeping For Reference: Log and Notificate.
Transcription Begin.
“Hahaha!” The dwarf chuckled, observably jolly in stature and armored by appearance. His beard was sized respectably to cultural expectations. “We have a saying, you know? Never venture slower than the pace of your beard!” This was not a recorded saying in current documented ‘dwarven’-classified societies.
“Oooh!” The [emendation: ‘pixie’], small but not terribly small, made sounds similar to whining, [emendation: ‘her’] soft and fleshy cheeks puckering in a display of likely contention. “That doesn’t even make sense! And that has nothing to do with my fear!” [Her] insectoid-like wings buzzed with an observable glimmer, [her] visual sensory components, almost identical to human eyes, had a slight glow to their iris lenses.
Their environment was the interior space of a cavern system located underground. They had recently entered. It was dark. However, the dwarf’s helmet had a brightly glowing condensed core, essence synthesized most likely, attached to its front; a focusing lens concentrated the emanating light, allowing for limited illumination of the faced direction.
Considering the large—in proportion to body height—pickaxe in the dwarf’s hand, and the sizable four-limbed contraption—bronze and steel alloy composed and adorned with symbolic glyphs corresponding to dwarven runic arcane culture—which dragged a wheeled storage box, salvaging operations was the likely motivation for entry.
“This place’s giving me the creepsie creeps!” the [pixie] stated, disconcerted. “Out of all these months on the ocean, you did not tell me we were gonna be going underground! I hate the underground!”
“You never asked! Haha!” The dwarf did not appear concerned with the [pixie]’s dismay. “I am paying you to help me, little buggy. I just need your help for something. And you’ll be paid handsomely!” he supposedly reassured.
The little [pixie] continued to make sounds similar to whimpering groans. “But this is scary. We’re in Centralish lands—this place is full of horrible things…”
“Oh, they are. But also adventure and great treasure—remember, pixie.” the dwarf replied. “So much has changed in our ancestral homeland, but the myths were true! And we’ll be returning home rich. Trust me!”
“Your ancestral homeland… I remember the day you fatsos showed up in your dumb boats all those thousand of years ago! Ate all my friends!” The [pixie] was acting dramatic in display, perhaps to mitigate present fear factors.
“No you don’t.” The doubting dwarf looked at the [pixie] with an expression of bluntness. “You’re not ancient, pixie. Too greedy. Your foremothers were spiritual.” he commented. “You’re just squealing ‘cause you’re just terrified of being in a tight, dark spot. Aren’t ya?”
“Blehhh!” The [pixie] stuck out [her] tongue-like muscular component, releasing a drizzle of saliva-analogous fluids from rapid vibrations. A display of childish taunt or insult, perhaps. “Yes! I am a [pixie]! I frolic in the open!” [she] hissed, “Not dark, moisty, dumb…caves!”
“You’ll get double the doubloons. How’s that?” the dwarf said.
The [pixie]’s orientation flipped immediately. “Deal.” Greed would be an accurate personality descriptor, certainly. “So, where we going anyhow?”
“A dungeon.” the dwarf provided answer.
“A…d-d-dungeon?? Wha??” The [pixie] displayed confusion. “I change my mind! I change my mind! Aren’t those are FULL of horrible, terrible…things!”
“Oh, yes. They’ve been a plague spoken even by the ancestors before the Great Flee. But this one is old, be assured. Cleared out ages ago.” the dwarf explained.
“I wanna go home…” the [pixie] whined, “I am too delicate! One smack, and I am dead! I don’t wanna be dead! I like living!”
“Don’t worry, as I said. This one is old and cleared out. Nothing in there. I already checked.” the dwarf reiterated, confident.
“You’ve been here before?” The [pixie] very quickly inquired, [her] voice module shifting more mellow and inquisitive.
“Oh, yes! Ha-hah!” the dwarf chuckled, “I’ve been here for years! And even longer, since I set sail the day the Westerners brought back word…”
“Ooph. Old. You’re an old, old dwarf.” This [pixie] lacked filter—a common documented characteristic.
“Bah! Says the immortal mini!” The dwarf waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. “But, as I was telling, this dungeon is old and cleared out, now buried within this hill. But it could still be full of treasure!”
“…how do you know that?” the [pixie] asked, tilting [her] head in a cogitative indication.
“This dungeon was active before it suddenly closed, from what I heard. Trapping the adventurers within it. They never completely looted it. And our competition is long dead!” the dwarf explained.
“So it wasn’t cleared out?” The [pixie] crossed [her] arms, glaring at the dwarf. “And why hasn’t anyone else tried to loot it like you want to? You can’t be the first…”
“Because I am a dwarf, and we dwarfs are diggers.” The dwarf simply remarked, highly valuing himself and his people. “Haha! This cave, you see… I dug it.” He had dug paths into this tunnel network, in reality.
“Woah… You did?” The [pixie] was convinced, however.
“Yes. But I couldn’t dig into the dungeon.” the dwarf added, “It’s locked a very special way. Nothing could break into it—I’ve tried. But I know a key, because I’m a dwarf of the New-lands. And unlike the mans, we’ve known you.”
“…me?” The [pixie] tilted [her] head.
“Pixies, you have a special ability. You can unlock things that no other can. Access things none of us mortal-kinds can.”
“…we can?” The [pixie] remained with displays of confusion.
“Yes. That’s why I sailed back through the dangerous seas just to fetch ya, ha-hah! And came back here with ya… To open it. We’ll salvage the treasure, together; you’ll get your fair portion, as I promised.” the dwarf thus spoke.
“Fair?” However, the [pixie] provided a stare that indicated scheming cogitations. “I am the one opening it for you—I’m, like, the key, so…”
“Triple the doubloons. Fine. Once I sell the treasure.” The dwarf did not contest.
“Hehehehe…” the [pixie] generated sounds akin to a giggle-expression, salivating essentially. “Imma be the richest pixie ever, like ever…”
Cut mark.
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Skip.
Retroactive Modification: ambiguity increased for effect; Explainers deleted; Descriptors rephrased [].
“Woah…” The [pixie] appeared with resemblance of awe, [her] eyes gazing with observation at what was most likely an entrance to what they had called a ‘dungeon’.
Structural elements were exposed out from the mined rock of this cavern way, indicating a predominantly stone and brick construction, color composites blue and grey; signs of aging were evident, yet it appeared remarkably preserved in consideration to the expected age. It was evidently buried in thick layers of rock, nevertheless.
And as the dwarf had specified, it was sealed by a [strange and bizarre] door, one of clear [exotic] origins.
“This a door? What kind of…” The [pixie] lacked adequate descriptors.
“Some kind, at least… But it doesn’t budge.” The dwarf stepped forward and axed the entry point with his pickaxe. He repeated this until he had sufficiently demonstrated the presumed indestructibility. “See?” The dwarf turned to the hovering [pixie]. “I can’t even describe what this is made of… It’s unlike anything typical, that I’ve ever seen.”
“Hmm…” The [pixie] curled [her] lips, cogitation functions clearly occurring.
“And…” The dwarf axed at the stone structure of the entry point, demonstrating. “The stone is too thick… I’ve tried with everything I could. It can only be chipped. No way around.”
“So…how do I?” The [pixie] did not demonstrate an indication of knowing the means for entry.
The dwarf shrugged, looking to [her]. “Well, go ahead… Do your thing.”
“…what thing?” The [pixie] remained in this state of confusion.
“Open it?” The dwarf too was now displaying signs of confusion.
“Uhm…” The [pixie] hovered closer, retaining a fairly unaffected stare at the entrance. “Alright...” Perhaps out of [her] [instincts] or as a guess, [she] proceeded to touch this entry door, [her] eyes scanning for something inquisitively. “A thingy…” [she] murmured. “There’s supposed to be…a thingy…”
“A thingy?” The dwarf did not seem to know what that was supposed to mean.
“Yeah, a thingy… Find the thingy… I need the thingy!” The [pixie] turned to him, [her] eyes seeming brighter than usual. “It’s there!” [She] pointed, buzzing [herself] to a point of interest right next to this door. “Inside the rock. That’s it.”
“Uh…” The dwarf looked at the [pixie], confused. “And how do you fashion to know that—”
“J-just! Just dig, dwarf! Dig! I can’t bear this tingling!” The [pixie] was becoming frustrated it seemed, no doubt due to an evident [experience of a strange connection within to that which was being sought].
The dwarf used his pickaxe to break off the layer of the rock, requiring some time to do so. Eventually, this ‘thingy’ was revealed—a [bizarre glass that emitted a faint light of blue, etched upon which were flickering words unknown] was linked to that door for access function.
“What in the ancestor’s name is this thing? Fancy… A kind of mirror? No… It’s, it’s projecting… Strange words.” The dwarf was curious, owing to his engineering cultural roots. “A device? What kind?”
“Don’t touch it! Don’t break it!” The [pixie] quickly buzzed [herself] to it, shooing the dwarf away. “Go away. Go away. Shoo! Shoo!”
The dwarf acquiesced, and the [pixie] began to scan at the [strange device of dwarven fascination]. Finding a slot, [she] stuck [her] finger into it. A spark followed within [her] eye as [she] appeared to have received some kind of electrical impulse or shock.
“Ahh! So much better! I thought that feeling would never stop!” The [pixie] displayed signs of relief, however. As the [glowing display of light] shifted green. A similar light flashed from the top of that entry; the door proceeded to split in half as it slid open. “Oh, it opened…”
“Haha!” the dwarf chuckled, excited. “You did it! You did it, you little freakish flirt-heart!” He beckoned to the [pixie], “Treasure awaits! First ones to enter in centuries!”
“Maybe…we shouldn’t…” The [pixie], in a break of character, seemed hesitant to the idea. “It’s locked for a reason… You aren’t supposed to go in there.”
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“And now it’s unlocked! You unlocked it!” the dwarf, however, countered. “So, come on! Think of the doubloons!”
“…yeah, I like doubloons… I want the doubloons…” The [pixie] displayed a shift in expression. “Alright! Yeah! Treasure time! Hehehe!”
Skip mark.
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“Creepy…” The [pixie] observed, displaying discomforted affect in facial expression. “Silent… Empty… The skeletons won’t come alive, right?”
“No, no. Skeletons aren’t monsters. Just the dead.” the dwarf thus spoke, taking off a piece of old armor—ostensibly primitive, though owing to the documented records of local ‘adventuring’, it was evidently [exotic and magically imbued]. The dwarf was placing these post-mortem retrieved armors and other objects of presumed value into his contraption-dragged storage box.
“Not going to lie, this feels horribly wrong… This is looting the dead, not…scavenging treasure!” The [pixie] seemed to display moral reasoning.
“We’re several layers down and haven’t found anything besides these. Treasure is treasure. If they were freshly dead, I’d agree. But they are one with this tomb.” The dwarf remarked, however.
He moved on; the [pixie] followed.
This dungeon was layered and structured; full of paths and halls, chambers and rooms. It was difficult to navigate, and by design they were easy to get lost in. However, the [pixie]’s spatial memory was sophisticated; despite not trying, there were indications that [she] was capable of perfectly remembering their route since entry. The dwarf was presumably relying on this as they headed deeper.
“Don’t you think it’s a little weird how we’ve only seen man…” the [pixie] mused.
“What do you mean? Of course not! This is mans’ lands.”
“No, but, like… Skeletons…” the [pixie] clarified. “None of these ‘monsters’—skeletons, none of their skeletons or bones.”
“Maybe they’re like fish or sharks. Don’t leave bones that last… Ahah…” The dwarf spotted something shiny, becoming distracting as he retrieved it without much thought.
“Save room for the actual treasure, you know!” the [pixie] loudly protested the dwarf’s insistence of retrieving everything of presumed value. “This place is layered. The best stuff is always in the dangerous layers below!”
“…and I how do you reason you know that, little missy?” The dwarf gazed at [her]. “I already know that. But how do you know that…”
The [pixie] displayed confusion and observable discontent with [herself]. “I don’t know… Huh… Yeah, how do I know that?” [She] pondered. “Dunno. The deeper we go, I feel…connected to something. Hm… And it’s just hitting me with…knowing stuff…”
“Do ya now? I see, I see…” The dwarf peered into the [pixie] with emerging ideas. “You seemed strange with that door, didn’chya? That must mean…you’re sensing more…” He displayed a grin. “I reckon wherever you’re sensing, it’s filled with treasure. Has to be!”
“I am…not too sure about that… You’re not supposed to…”
“Ah! Quit your baby-mouthing! Doubloons! The things we can sell from this!” The dwarf was adamant.
“I like doubloons… Yeah, I really like…doubloons.” The [pixie] agreed to continue.
The dwarf proceeded to utilize the [pixie]’s seeming sensitivities as a makeshift treasure-detector from his point of assessment, convinced whatever [she] was sensing was an area of value.
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“Eat something…” The [pixie] displayed concern, looking at the dwarf.
“How much closer?” But the dwarf asked instead of providing reassurance.
“Not close, I’ve been telling you… It will probably be a day to even get there. It’s really…really deep.” The [pixie] explained. “Fifty-floors, we’re in floor twenty-four…”
“Twenty-four?!” the dwarf seemed unpleased… “Ten… Fifteen hours, and only that many floors?” He finally paused, respirating in a recovering fashion; he was clearly showing symptoms of exhaustion and prolonged hunger. “We can make it… Only half ways there, we speed faster…”
“We are not in a rush! We have no competition!” The [pixie] waved [her] raised fist. “Rest! You’re mortal! Not like me! I can buzz all around, but you need to eat, rest, and poop—go poop! When was the last time?!”
“Dah! Fine! You’re right…” The dwarf tumbled down, resting next to his autonomous contraption. “Patience will reward with treasure… Let the beard grow to full, haha! Let seek the runes…in the ruins…” Indications from his body language seemed to display impatience and excitement; although, he was likewise fatigued.
“You’re a strange dwarf… Silly guy. Silly lil’ midget. Why are you so girthy?” The [pixie] displayed a smile-type expression with [her] lips.
“Ha, ha, ha! This is all muscle! We dwarfs are bulky! Even our lasses!” The dwarf seemingly boasted.
“Your ladies are hairy, yeah. Manly ladies.” The [pixie] was seemingly teasing. “I heard hyenas are like that too—they have girl wieners, hehehe…”
“What?” The dwarf looked at the [pixie]. “Hyena? And now what’s that?”
The [pixie], however, displayed confusion. “Yeah… What the fuck is a hyena? They are…” [She] seemed to retreat into cogitations. “They are…located in the southern lands and… Not in…this continent or… No, no, they are here in Central…because it has bits of…every…”
“You’re losing me, mini-lassie…” The dwarf was blunt. “What’s with your eyes?”
“My what? They’re…fine?” The [pixie] remained confused.
“They’re glowing…? Kind of like that device, almost…” He observed.
“Oh, that’s because I’m retrieving.” The [pixie] was remarkably quick to say that.
“Retrieving? Retrieving what?”
“…I don’t… There’s a word, but it doesn’t… Like, mini-knowledge that…flows and gets… Hm…” The [pixie] needed to ponder. “Wow. This is, like, really weird…” [She] looked at the dwarf, displaying a sense of bafflement by [her] own self. “This has never happened to me before… I’m just… Like, if I want to know something, I can just…know it or… No, no, not really, because I have to… Hm…” [She] continued to fall into deeper confusion; [her] fingers operated as though [she] were actively doing something. “How am I even doing…any of this? It’s like I can see…words and… Oh! What’s this? Hm…”
“Hah-ah!” The dwarf stood up. “That’s it. It’s decided,” he began to declare, reinvigorated, “we’re continuing on. I’ve got it in me, and your senses must be getting to something.”
Skip mark.
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“…Five more…floors!” The dwarf was now visibly incapable of further activity. However, he stubbornly persisted.
“Stop! Stop! Stopp!” The [pixie] had been tugging at him for most of the proceeding thirty-minutes. “Stop already!”
“Sod your mouth shut, pixie! We are so close! This treasure will be worth it! We both know it!” Despite their traveling deeper within the dungeon’s understructure, his storage box remained remarkably empty with respect to his expectations. This seemed to have been increased his adamancy in making this venture worth it.
The [pixie] kept tugging and begging for the exhausted dwarf to stop. His continued refusal, however, caused [her] to eventually growl and wrinkle [her] facial features in a display of frustration. After which, there was [a spark to her eyes which flicked in a gleam, glowing as bands lighted across her neck and arms, before abruptly the dwarf received a zap.]
“Ah!” The dwarf finally stopped. “What was that?!” He stroked the afflicted area.
“What was what? What did I do?” The [pixie] demonstrated confusion. “W-what did I just do…”
“You pricked me!” The dwarf glared at [her].
But the [pixie] retained an innocent expression, before realizing as [she] looked at [her] finger… “Oh… Huh…” Indeed, [her] finger [seemed different… As if charged and capable of…] “I can shock people? Since when?”
It was evident this [pixie] was not with true comprehension of [her magical abilities], which would align with previous recordation of other, related specimens.
The dwarf calmed, the extent of his exhaustion now forcing him down once again. He was incapable of standing. Dehydrating, he drank most of his water-husk in a single sitting; he had extra filled husks, however.
“Goodness…” The [pixie] hovered closer to him. “Sorry… But, also, you really need to…” [She] let out a kind of annoyed exhale. “What good will treasure do you if you, like, drop dead because you over-sweated too much?”
“Hah… That’s a truth.” the dwarf acknowledged. “You can’t understand, though… My life isn’t infinite, and I spent nearly two, three, years…salvaging this site. And now I am in it, and I know it’s hiding something… Dungeons, I’ve heard the stories, but they’re always too dangerous… But this one? It’s safe! And there’s treasure awaiting…”
“Hm… Treasure, huh…” The [pixie]’s eye lenses shined more pronounced… “So… Right, I wanted to say this, but, you wouldn’t let me, but…”
“But?” The dwarf seemed concerned.
“What…I am feeling is… Uhm…” The [pixie] required a moment to figure out a sufficient description. “So, it’s not the last floor—the fiftieth… It’s way underneath it—this whole dungeon…”
“Ah!” The dwarf was relieved since to him that was not bad news. “Matters not! I’m a digger, remember! We dwarfs… I have enough food and spare water to last days—I will dig through and down, especially with your senses… I am sure of it!” He was confident.
“…I just don’t think we’ll find treasure, it’s not…”
“Treasure, lassie, is whatever can be sold for a high price! And I know that weird thing we saw at the top door! That’ll sell!” the dwarf remarked. “Platinum! I am telling you, in platinum! Not gold!”
“Hm… Yeah. Sure, yeah… Alright, yeah… Sure…” The [pixie] began to reply, yet [her brightening eyes] seemed distracted. “Sure… Yeah, yeah…”
“Who… What?” The dwarf was able to tell that the [pixie] seemed unfocused on him. “Who are you…talking to? Why are you looking…”
“You, of course?” The [pixie] looked at him. “Who else would I…be…talking with?”
“You’re only becoming stranger the deeper we go… I know that is a sign, ha-hah!” The dwarf chuckled, relaxing.
The [pixie] hovered to him, lowering [herself]. [She] just stared, to the dwarf’s bemusement. [Her] attention then turned to the way ahead. It appeared that [she] was thinking something in addition to feeling.
“Alright, how about this!” [She] looked at the dwarf, smiling. “You should sleep! Take a good nap! You need it.”
“What, but we are so—”
“Now, now!” The [pixie] wagged [her] finger as if in a nagging fashion. “You sleep, and I will buzz way down to floor fifty. I’ll use this weird…sense I…guess I have…and look around!” [She] seemed enthusiastic. “There is something underneath this dungeon, and…I want to know what it is. I’ll come back…once I know a way in and wake you up. I should be able to find it.”
“Hm.” The dwarf pondered this consideration. “Yeah… Lassie, that’s actually… That works way better, yeah! Ha-ha!” He was thrilled. “You scout ahead, I’ll take a shite and rest… Catch my strength… And then we’ll go fetch us the treasure! Find a way…”
With this exchange, the [pixie] waved in a fashion indicative of a goodbye before buzzing away, glimmer evident in a trail left behind.
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Retroactive Modification: ambiguity increased for effect; References redacted; Explainers deleted; Descriptors rephrased [].
The dwarf was deeply asleep. His consciousness inactive. However, certain enviromental information could still be parsed through [SECTION DELETED]
He was loudly snoring, owing to both the size and shape of his nose which partially obstructed airflow—a common characteristic of across dwarven populations. His present vivid dreaming of what were mountains of treasure atop which he was chuckling was an indication that he was most likely in desynchronized, or REM, sleep; this made him especially sensitive to awaking stimuli.
[SECTION DELETED]
“Bwahh!” The dwarf abruptly awoke, his respiration elevated; this abrupt shift in brain activity caused a sense of grogginess, corrected for by a surge in adrenaline from the fright. He could not immediately identify the source of this fright nor the cause for his awaking.
It was very dark. However, there was a pair of glowing eyes staring at him, to which he shined his helmet light.
“Oh! It’s you!” The dwarf realized, exhaling a breath of relief. “Pixie! You’re back!”
However, he was able to discern that something did not seem right with his [pixie] companion. The blue glow of [her] eyes was different, with evident [controlling strands of synthetic light imbued within her irises’] lenses. More strikingly, her facial expressions were devoid of affect.
“You alright, little lass? Tell me! Did you find—”
“You are not supposed to be here. Please, turn back.” The [pixie], however, spoke. [Her] voice lacked its prior emotion. [It was almost mechanical and monotone.]
The dwarf gawked. “What? Why? Don’t tell me you’ve pansied!” he refused. “Tell me, what did you find?”
“You are trespassing. You need to leave. You need to leave.” the [pixie] reiterated, [voice formal and empty].
The dwarf’s facial expression shifted to a scowl. “I see! I know it… You found it, didn’chya?!” His emotions indicated a sense of betrayal. “Ah-hah… Is that how it is, huh?! Trying to be a pig and hog it yourself, now, are we?! The treasure! Well, I ain’t budging!” Perhaps he wanted to convince himself that this was the truth; there was a semblance of doubt and concern within his internal affect.
The dwarf picked up his pickaxe and reactivated his contraption, whose engineering rune-core flashed on.
“I will not let a pixie deny me what is rightfully mine! After all the work I’ve done… By my ancestors names!” He glared at the [pixie]. “Join me, and that’s forgiven. But try to stop me, little lass, and that’s a grudge worth a smashing!” He proceeded to stomp off and forward.
“No. Stop. No.” the [pixie] began to say, “Do not move. Do not move. Stop. No. Stop. Do not proceed.” Over and over, [her hollow and monotone voice] repeated.
The dwarf stopped and turned around to look at that [pixie], experiencing a grave unsettlement from this. “Alright. What’s wrong you? Are ya going maddened or something?”
“Do not proceed. You are not allowed here. You must leave. Do not proceed.” the [pixie] repeated. “Hold…” There was a pause, [she] was [receiving something, it was as if]. “Please hold. Stay here. Do not move. Do not move.”
“Huh?” The dwarf gawked, confused. “Which is it, then, huh? Want me to leave or remain here?”
“Cooperate. Cooperate. Hold here.” the [pixie] repeated, over and over. “Cooperate. Hold here. Do not move. Cooperate.” Despite the flat affect, there were observable indications of internal struggle; [she] struggled to [turn and shake her head, as if it was locked in place; as if she had little control; as if she was trying to beg, pleading, him to listen].
The dwarf began to hear [clanking stomp after clanking stomp] originating from the direction ahead. He immediately stared down that way, attempting to evaluate. He could notice singular lights illuminating in the distance beyond the shine of his focused light, [as if glowing eyes of sensory light approaching]. “What… What’s those sounds?”
[The stomps clanked closer and closer, each loud step carrying bulky weight and heaviness, growing more menacing]. There was a tension in the dwarf’s breaths, amygdala activity demonstrating a growing fear response. It was not long until what was approaching him entered the illuminating field of his helmet’s light.
[His breaths sank]. “By the ancestors, what are those things?! Golems?!” He had misidentified what were [REFERENCE REDACTED].
“Do not resist. Do not resist. Cooperate. Cooperate. Do not move. Cooperate. Do not resist. Do not move. Hold. Cooperate.” the [pixie] repeated faster, almost as if displaying subtle indications of desperation.
“{Auto-Play: Attention participant, you are trespassing within an off-limits zone and have violated site closure adherence through forced entry. Stand by for detainment and escorted exit. Failure to comply will result in termination and or mandatory reassignment, as defined by this installation’s policies.}”
The dwarf was unable to understand these words.
“{Two: detain that: UNAUTHORIZED TRESPASSER.}”
“Do not resist. Do not resist. Cooperate.” the [pixie] continued to repeat.
However, the dwarf posture’s tightened in a fashion suggesting combative intentions, gripping his pickaxe’s handle firmly. “Ha! Ya golems! There’s only one reason ya’d be here… Guarding something, hah! And ya’ve done something to my pixie, haven’chya?!” His flight or fight response triggered, it was evident which he had picked. “By my ancestors name, I’ll either join them or have my treasure that is owed!” His pickaxe [began to radiate with energizing glow, seemingly being both a weapon and a digging tool]. “I’ll sell ya for scrap!” The dwarf charged with an expressive scream.
“No. No. No. No.” The [pixie] shifted [her] monotone repetition.
The dwarf was immediately grappled and slammed to wall by the [REFERENCE REDACTED]; its hand squeezed his neck and tightened his airways. [A single glowing lens glared into him as he was held up against the dungeon’s walls, choking and unable to communicate.]
“{All: await: orders from: INTENDENT.}”
“No. No. No. No. No.” The [pixie] was watching, locked in behavior and speech, [though there were clear signs that she was still there, somewhere.] However, [her] vocal repetition ceased as [she] hovered in position, stationary. “{Received. Returning to regular ecological survey and terrestrial monitoring functions.}” [Her] eye lenses reacting to a signal received, [she] buzzed away.
The dwarf was unable to witness his accompanying [pixie] abandon him as he was immediately dropped down. Gasping for air, he gripped his neck; he had no time to react or process.
“{Received. All: target that: RENEGADE PARTICIPANT.}”
The dwarf [was immediately torn ablaze by a fury of glow-tracing rounds], memory ceasing. His helping contraption was presumably destroyed as well; although, no remains of it were present at site, suggesting confiscation. The body, however, decomposed in death position and at location. Echo trauma minimal.
Further documentation pending recovery considerations.
Transcription End.