The careful strokes of black ink forming the second entry are identical to the first with no noticeable changes – they’re just as confident and sure as they were on the first scroll.

Day 2

I asked Crispin just how he stayed so comfortable in the sweltering heat of the Earthen Furnace, but he only looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, “I’m just used to it after all these years exploring the dungeon.” Innate magic, perhaps? If not innate, then developed over time. There’s been plenty of anecdotes of coursers developing magic after spending enough time in the dungeon, or stumbling upon magical artifacts and objects, so I’m sure he has something like that protecting him.

He could tell I wasn’t quite satisfied with his answer, however, and changed the subject so tactfully and so well, I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even realize it until after. Crispin asked about my family, and whereabouts on the surface I came from, the line of scholars I’m descended from and our history – so of course that whisked my attention away from wondering about his own abilities quite effectively.

And, as I’ve never written down much of my family history, I suppose I should do so. It’s all recorded already, of course, but spread across hundreds of scrolls and tomes in the family archives – I don’t know that it’s written down succinctly in one place anywhere, so I might as well be the one to do so.

Perhaps I’ll simply write down my answer to Crispin this afternoon. As I mentioned in my previous entry yesterday, I come from a long line of scholars and researchers. We are adventurers in a more academic sense – we delve into the dungeon’s depths to discover lost knowledge, or to verify learned knowledge with our own eyes, and keep records of it in the family archives. A library of sorts, you could say we’ve lived in all these years.

I say ‘we’ but in reality, I’m the only one left. My parents were lost to the dungeon years ago, and my brother had no interest in the life of a scholar, so left to be an adventurer of more martial prowess than knowledge. I’m the last of my line, now. It can be a lonely life sometimes, but at least I have Simon to keep me company. He’s such a wonderful little rat – so clever and helpful, too. A lot of coursers don’t think much of rats, but they’re such intelligent creatures. I worry about him here in the dungeon, though I admit, I put off entering the dungeons myself for longer than I should’ve, but at least I’ve finally started my first expedition. Better late than never, eh? And I’m not worried about my safety much, not with a guide so knowledgeable and skilled as Crispin leading the way. Everything will be just fine, and we’ll discover a wealth of knowledge - or, at least, see it with our own eyes - and I’ll study as much as I can before I return to the surface with scrolls packed with data.

And then, perhaps, I’ll begin planning my next expedition. I’d better not get too ahead of myself, though, so I’ll focus on this one first.